BirdNES 3: When Worlds Collide

Diamondeye said:

To: Sven Sture
From: King Hans, righteous ruler of Denmark, Sweden and Norway

We regret to inform you that We cannot accept your proposal. Surely, you have not been so blinded by the will for personal gain that you do not see the need of Scandinavia under a single crown?

Unless you accept and surrender your crown to Us, We must unfortunately take act against you.

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The Rubicon is yours to cross. We will embrace you in the manner of your crossing.

germanicus12 said:

To Pope Innocent VIII
From Ludovico Sforza of Milan, your most humble serveant.

We were grieved to hear the terrible news of your fall, we hope and pray for a rapid recovery. As a gift to our loving Lord and his Church, we have sent a caravan filled with 1,000 gold coins to Rome. We hope the Lord continues to look kindly upon our endeavors.

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To Ludovico Sforza of Milan
From His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII

We appreciate your kind words and kind gifts. Although our person has been slightly enfeebled by the accident, we praise God for opening our eyes and heart in revealing the true spiritual purpose of the Papacy as the shepherd of Christendom.

May the Lord put his blessings upon you as we do.

Charles Li said:

To His Holiness, Pope Innocent VIII
From Agostino Adorno of Genoa, your most humble serveant

Dear father,

I feel sorry for you, yet feel joy that you have seen a vision from heaven and have revived.
I have sent for 1000 pieces of gold to you to honor your name and the name of our lord. We hope that the Lord will continue to look kindly and with mercy upon our works to spread his name.

I have noted, dear father, of many unaligned Italian states. They work for no lord and are often molested by bandits and robbers. So many poor, small towns that can only aford a small church. I ask you blessing to annex some of the villages and help them work not only to survive but for the greater good. With the routes secured, a pilgrim can walk without fear from bandits from London to Rome.

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To Agostino Adorno of Genoa,
From His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII

My son, we appreciate the kindness in your words and gifts and will pray for you.

With regards to your desires to annex these unaligned Italian states, I believe you are quite mistaken as to their misalignment. Florence is home to one of the most thriving cities on our peninsula, as are the cities of Siena, Luca and Modena. These cities have not done anything wrong against yourselves or towards the persons of the Church.
Therefore, we beseech you to stay your hand from rash action.

May the Lord bless you as we do.

Diamondeye said:

From: Your loyal Son in Faith, Hans of Denmark
To: Pope Innocent VIII

Dear Father,

First of all, Our dearest apologies for not explaining the entirety of the project. The church in question will indeed be a new church and not interfere with the bishop seat of Copenhagen. It is merely to provide another place for the prayers of the faithful and to strengthen the Faith in these lands, so far north of the Holy Seat of Yourself. We hope that we have not confused Your Holiness. We take it that You do not have any protests against dedicating this church to Saint Eric the Holy, then. If this is not the case, We humbly ask of You to send word to Us, and We would be honored if His Holiness Yourself would pick out a patron saint to bless the church and watch over the faithful.

We have also heard of the tragic accident that has happened to Your Holiness, and We pray that it has no grave consequences to Your Person.

Your Son in Faith,
Hans of Denmark

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To: King Hans of the Denmark, Sweden and Norway, the Kalmar Union
From: His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII

The construction of this Church has our blessings, and may the project be blessed by the Lord as we bless it ourselves.

We hear rumours from the North of a rebel faction in your kingdom and we are saddened by this situation as it is another opportunity for bloodshed between Christian brothers. Pray allow one of our representatives to parley with this Sven Sture and show him his mistakes. With the blessing, we shan't see bloodshed between Christians.

Milarqui said:

From: King John II of Portugal
To: His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain

We wish for you, His Holiness, to arbitrate in the dispute for the lands discovered at the other side of the Atlantic Ocean between the Christian Nations of Spain and Portugal. We wish for, at least, equal ownership between both of our nations, half for Portugal and half for Spain, based on the fact that it was us the first to discover said new lands, but the Spanish kings wish for a surreal, unappropiate and unequal deliver of lands on no grounds, with three quarters going to Spain and only one quarter for Portugal. We wish for you to state that Portugal has as much or even more rights to the new lands than the Spanish, although we will accept your decision whether it might be against our wishes.

Signed,
King John II.

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To: King John II of Portugal, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain
From: His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII

We are more than willing to mediate in this dispute over the lands in the West. However, we wish to hear the cases from both sides before passing judgement. We propose the Monarchs of Portugal and Spain send representatives to Rome, where they shall be treated with all the respect due to representatives of Christian Monarchs in order to discuss the situation.
(OOC: Please send me PMs of what you guys want, and present your individual cases)


More OOC Stuff: There are some PMs I haven't replied to yet, I will do so hopefully by the end of tonight.

To: His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII
From: King Hans of Denmark, Sweden and Norway

Dearest Father,

We find your suggestion to the solution of the Swedish problems reassuring, and We hope that you can make this Sven Sture see that We have, by nobles and peoples of the three countries, as well as by the grace of God himself, been chosen to lead the northern peoples.

We pray to find a peaceful solution to this conflict, but We do not have much time until Sture's grip on Sweden will be too large to ignore.

To: Sven Sture
From: King Hans, righteous ruler of Denmark, Sweden and Norway

We bring news: His holiness, the Pope Himself, has offered to send a representative to parley between our factions. We hope that this can bring a peaceful solution to the conflict at hand, and that you will not do harm to this man of God.

It is not Our choice that this has come sofar; You chose to cross the Rubicon many years ago when the Swedes did not attend to Our "håndfæstning". You have been lucky that We are not as vile as Marcus Brutus, or civil war would surely be upon us already.

-King Hans, righteous ruler of Denmark, Sweden and Norway.

Diamondeye said:

To: His Holiness Il Papa Innocentus VIII
From: King Hans of Denmark, Sweden and Norway

Dearest Father,

We find your suggestion to the solution of the Swedish problems reassuring, and We hope that you can make this Sven Sture see that We have, by nobles and peoples of the three countries, as well as by the grace of God himself, been chosen to lead the northern peoples.

We pray to find a peaceful solution to this conflict, but We do not have much time until Sture's grip on Sweden will be too large to ignore.

To: Sven Sture
From: King Hans, righteous ruler of Denmark, Sweden and Norway

We bring news: His holiness, the Pope Himself, has offered to send a representative to parley between our factions. We hope that this can bring a peaceful solution to the conflict at hand, and that you will not do harm to this man of God.

It is not Our choice that this has come sofar; You chose to cross the Rubicon many years ago when the Swedes did not attend to Our "håndfæstning". You have been lucky that We are not as vile as Marcus Brutus, or civil war would surely be upon us already.

-King Hans, righteous ruler of Denmark, Sweden and Norway.

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The peace we all seek is simple: sovereignty for Sweden. With it comes the brotherhood of our nations and the prosperity of our people.

To our Brother in Faith, Mahmud Begada

The rumors of the greatness of your deeds in service to Allah and your attempts to honor His name have pleasantly fallen on our ears. Should you be in need of any assistance in the fire of jihad, do not hesitate to ask as Allah wills it.

Ismail I, Leader of the Safaviyyeh

As Martin Waldseemüller made his way back from Spain in early 1496 he had stopped in Augsburg to visit with his friend Nicholas Verner. Martin had given up his cartographical clerical position with the church in Lorraine for a position at the new university in Brandenburg. He had been in Iberia collecting information for his forth coming map of the new world and used his week-long stopover with Nicholas to discuss world events, as well as, his map. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year and they had much to catch up on. Martin was especially proud of his new role as the official cartographer for the Elector of Brandenburg and the exciting cultural and intellectual focus that was centered there. The Elector himself had wanted new maps not only of the new world, but of all Europe. Even to Nicholas he would not reveal how he had managed to gather his source maps, but he assured Verner that they were the most reliable.

But the maps were not all that Martin had revealed. Both Spain and Portugal had plans to further their explorations in ways not yet revealed. Whether Asia or not, these new lands would play a part in the future of Iberia and the House of Verner would be wise to pay attention. Nicholas on the other hand brought Martin up-to-date on the news of Germany and neighboring nations. Charles VIII of France was to marry Margaret of Austria and a grand wedding was planned. The date was still unknown, but preparations were underway none-the-less. Philip of Austria had been installed as Governor of the Dutch, Lord of The Hague and Duke of Burgundy by his father as the Hapsburg icon tried to soothe the Dutch rebelliousness. The Swedish situation was deteriorating and the Pope himself had taken a personal interest in seeing it resolved peacefully.

The news from the east was additionally troubling. The Turkish intrigues in the Holy Land had erupted into bloodshed and war between the Mameluks and Constantinople seemed inevitable. Nicholas was worried that such a war would cut off trade between Europe and the East as goods were held up in fear of pillaging armies. Venice and Genoa cold be hard hit if trade through Cairo or Constantinople were compromised. Over martin’s last supper in Augsburg, the topic turned to Muscovy and the politics of the Great Prince. Nicholas’s agents in Novgorod had sent word that Vasily Ivanovich had been named heir. Both men thought that this announcement would bring some stability to the Russian court and keep things calm in that region of the world. The next morning broke sunny and spring-like and the two friends vowed to see each other more often and stay in touch through the couriers of the House of Verner that regularly traveled north.

Waldseemüller's map:

Map Note--the two small red crosses indicate the approximate location of the first landfall by Columbus and Dias.

To All Nations Who Realize Aesthetic Comfort is the Will of God

Recently, a group of haughty vagabond adventurers stumbled upon an unknown land journeying west across the Atlantic. In their hubris they named that land after themselves, with no regard for the Lord or even their earthly king. Who are we to follow blindly in their wake and regale them with their unholy and contemptuous name? The name of the land will be ordained by God himself when the time is right, and I urge nations to use alternatives or refer to it as unnamed until that time comes.

The Raven

To the Most Excellent Emperor, Charles VIII, whose learning is only exceeded by his piety.

Your most humble servant, having met a certain Greek in the employ of your brother Andreas Palaeologos, Despot of Morea, while he resided in Paris, found amongst his library many valuable books. Of these, he allowed me to examine a great treatise of the ancients, Ptolemy’s Geographia. Seeing such a valuable work, hidden as a magnificent jewel shut up in the bowels of the Earth, I bought it from him. Knowing that my Lord seeks all manner of wisdom, surrounding himself with them as the earth is surrounded by the stars, I wished to translate this work for you.

I have also taken the liberty at drafting a map of the world based on Ptolemy’s work. I have even included the newly discovered lands, which goes by many names. I have heard some ignorants call it “Hyperborea,” thinking it the land which Pindar spoke of:

Never the Muse is absent
from their ways: lyres clash and flutes cry
and everywhere maiden choruses whirling.
Neither disease nor bitter old age is mixed
in their sacred blood; far from labor and battle they live.

But this cannot be, for “Hyperborea” is derived from the Greek, meaning “beyond Boreas” who was the North Wind. It is therefore clear in my study that Pindar had in mind the Northmen, and not this new land. It is clear to me that this is instead the land where Boreas’ brother Zephyrus flew, after abducting the nymph Chloris, just as Europe is where Zeus fled after abducting Europa. Thus, this new land is what the Greeks knew as “Chloris” or in the Latin, “Flora.” Much supports this, so that I could fill a book if needed with support. For Chloris was the goddess of spring, flowers, and new growth, so that the land where she was abducted is perpetual spring, filled with all manner of growing things, just, as we hear the new lands are. It is this land the Britons call “Avalon.” For as one of their historians writes, in Avalon “the fields there have no need of the ploughs of the farmers and all cultivation is lacking except what nature provides.” It is also known by many other names in many other tongues, both ancient and modern.

Therefore, earnestly hoping that you, O Wise Emperor, take note not only of the wisdom of the ancients, but the wisdom of those who currently surround you, we most heartily dedicate this translation to your Majestic Presence, hoping that this humble work may be esteemed just as your person is esteemed by all.


Your Humble Servant,
Guillaume Budé

To: Guillaume Budé
From: Martin Waldseemüller of Brandenburg

News of your most pious map of the new world beyond the western sea has reached us in the dead of winter and brought warmth to penetrating cold and damp of Germany. A student even brought a facimile of it for our study and we are all intrigued by the enormous continent you have disclosed. It is surely a land of great riches and full of souls for Christian saving. And certainly such a land should have a fitting name that promises a glorious future. "Ophir" perhaps, or a more distant "Opar"?

We will study your map and correspond with you over our findings.

Your Obediant Servant,

Martin

The Far East 1499
Wu Kuan hadn’t been home for nearly a decade. As a merchant in Ning-Po he had been unable to maintain a thriving business, so he had abandoned his family and friends and joined the pirates smuggling goods into and out of China. He had gained fortune if not fame and now had two ships under his command. Times were changing and he needed to plan his next moves carefully. The Emperor was loosening the trade restrictions that had made pirating so lucrative in spite of the opposition the Emperor encountered from the court. The Eunuchs did not like change or the loss of their control over the policies of the Emperor. But change was in the wind. East of Wu’s haven on the west coast of Japan, the Shogun Ashikaga Yoshizumi was slipping and the local warlords flexing their power. It appeared that another round of wars was coming to Japan. Risk and opportunity were at hand, but how much of each?
He had considered moving his ships to Ryukyu where the Wokou were punished less if they renounced their plundering ways. New harbors were being built and the islands might be a safer haven than Nippon. As appealing as Okinawa was, what really called out to Wu Kuan was Ning-Po. If the Emperor was successful in opening up trade between the coast and the overseas world, then perhaps he could return home. He had heard that new trade enclaves had been set up far to the south in the hot lands of Malacca and Borneo. In addition the Armies of the Emperor had campaigned far to west to revive control over the old Silk Road and encourage new caravans to carry goods beyond the Gobi.

Piracy though seemed to have passed its prime. An Imperial Admiralty had been established in Guangzhou and new recruits were being trained to sail and fight at sea. Their targets were clearly the Wokou. To keep his head intact on his shoulders a change would seem to a smart move. Perhaps he could sail south to Malacca and then return north as if he had been there all these many years. At 30 he was still young and strong enough for such a change. He would provision as for any voyage and depart without much fanfare or farewell. Let them think when he did not return, he had been lost at sea or his ships taken and he and his crews killed. At least it was a plan.

Two weeks later Wu Kuan caught a following wind and his two ships sped south. Two months of easy sailing and frequent stopovers brought his small flotilla to Cambodia and the delta of the great Mekong. At that point Wu Kuan became Li Po, third son of a merchant family in Annam, who had been in Ryukyu for the last two years making contact for his elder brothers. From there it was a week of sailing to the Chinese colony on Bangka Island southeast of the Malacca Straits. The small colony there was struggling to survive and certainly not an important trading center by any means. The other trade efforts to Bangkok and Kotta in Ceylon had failed. In Bangkok the traders had been robbed and jailed by the local officials who greeted them upon arrival. The ships that sailed west towards India had just disappeared. On Bangka the town was wrapped in a wooden palisade that separated it from the rice fields that stretched around it. After a week or so he saw the promise of this move south. The riches of the Spice Islands were just to east and the fabled lands of India lay to the west beyond Malacca. To the south was the growing Majapahit Sultanate on java and the southern tip of Sumatra. What was beyond Java? No one knew.

Sultan Mahmud Shah of Malacca, while friendly to the Chinese, had taken it upon himself to control the straits from one end to the other and had conquered the kingdom of Aech. The war had been short, but bloody and many Malaccan soldiers had died before the kingdom fell. With both Aech and Malacca under his control Mahmud Shah was in a powerful position to control the flow of spices to the west. China hoped to play the same role for the shipments north. Clearly though it would not be easy. A new Malaccan settlement had sprung up just a few days sail east on Borneo and it might well compete with the Bangka Island traders. It was all very interesting and suited Wu…uh, Li Po just fine, in spite of the beastly heat and endless rain.

India
Ratan Tata had led the Gujarat army for all 4 months of the campaign. As soon as, the monsoons had ended he led over 13,000 troops across Gujarat’s northern border into Rajput. At about the same time Malwa and Sind troops joined in the anti Hindu crusade of Mahmud Begada. The Rajputan defense was too thinly spread to be effective and steady progress had been made. Tata had strict orders to punish the Hindu population as they advanced. And he had done so. Many villages were burned and livestock slaughtered just for the sake of establishing Muslim domination. Within a couple of months much of Rajput had been swallowed by the holy soldiers of Islam and many Hindus rotted in the ditches and fields along with their sacred cows. Gujarat casualties had been light and he was pleased. Today Ratan Tata was resting his troops and resupplying them before the next push. He waited out the heat of the day under a neem tree and dozed off from time to time. It was the arrival of courier from the Sultan that aroused him to full alert. The courier brought unsettling news. There was trouble at home. The Hindu peasants had heard of his abuse of the Rajput Hindus and had risen up in fury. They were burning warehouses and government buildings; killing a few tax collectors and Muslim lords. Fear was growing that the violence would spread from town to town and a small rebellion would become a large one. With the army far to the north in Rajput the Sultan was nervous. Tata was to bring most of his army home to restore order and protect the Muslims of Gujarat.

Too bad, he thought; victory was close. As he feared, when he told his allies of his orders to return, their interest in the war waned and while they spoke of more attacks Tata knew they would stand their ground and be satisfied with what they had won. As Ratan Tata turned his army south he thought pleasantly about this new opportunity to kill Hindus—in the service of his lord, of course.

Ardabil, Spring 1496

Egypt
It had been a dangerous, but necessary move. Janeer Al-Sura Amir ul-Umara, “the Amir of Amirs” had been planning his coup ever since he had captured Aden. The dissolute Mameluk rule would fail, either to the Ottoman lords lurking at the door or to one who was bold enough to act and act decisively on behalf of Egypt. He was that man. The expected invasion of the Ottoman Tucks had been his signal. Al Ashraf quietly disappeared one night along with his most trusted loyalists. The Amirs had rallied to support Janeer and the invasion of the north fired up those who had not been bribed by gold. The Amirs of Syria split. Those in the pay of the Turk had gone over to the enemy; those loyal to Egypt fled south stripping the land of all usefulness to the invaders. The plan to hold Antioch collapsed quickly as many cannon rolled south behind the advancing Turkish army. The city would crumble under those guns and an army lost.

The first battle was just outside of Damascus and it had been a disaster. Janeer had expected to be outnumbered by the Turks, but had not foreseen the 2,500 Qizilbashi horsemen from Persia. His commanders had been impetuous and attacked the Ottoman wagon laager with terrible results. The long chain of wagons (tied together end to end) had been deployed across the battlefield and behind it were ranks of harquebus toting infantry. Cavalry guarded the flanks. The quick loss of hundreds of fine horsemen that charged the wagons was sobering and Janeer just as quickly ordered his army to fall back. As they did so, they striped the land of food, poisoned wells and scorched the earth of life and usefulness. He made his second stand at Gaza. Again the wagon laager deployment by the Tucks thwarted his attempts to drive the enemy back to Anatolia. The Turkish horsemen and red-turbaned Qizilbashi were formidable on the flanks and kept is attacks at bay. Egyptian losses were mounting and his troops dismayed. Janeer knew that if he did not stop the Turks soon his short-lived rise to power would end with his head upon a spike or him chained to the oars of an Ottoman galley. He did not relish the thought of either and put them out of his mind as took his army south once again.

As Sinan Pasha moved his army past the abandoned camp of the fleeing Egyptians, he gloated a bit. He was quite pleased with his troops and their success at driving their enemies of Allah before them; he anticipated more of the same as they entered Egypt proper. In a week what remained of the Mameluk Army was encamped before him. His spies reported that it ranks were swollen with untrained levies. Beyond them lay the Sinai and the vast wealth of the delta. For two days the armies glared across the desert at one another and made ready. Sinan Pasha turned away an Egyptian effort to make peace. The Amir of Amirs in turn refused to surrender himself to the will of the Sultan of Constantinople. At first light on the third day, Pasha ordered his lumbering wagons into line and then to move across where he had ordered his front line to be. As the wagons fell into place the infantry settled in behind them. His army would be ready by mid morning, as it appeared the enemy would also, given their sluggish level of camp activity. Breakfast would fill the time.

It was a breakfast he never finished. 8,000 Mameluk horsemen appeared from “nowhere” and swept through the still deploying wagons and into the surprised infantry who had no protection. Sinan Pasha arrived on a small hillock just in time to see the extent of the destruction: fleeing foot soldiers everywhere, many without their guns; wagons buring and their oxen dead or dying. His cavalry stabilized the situation and drove off the enemy, but there was little he could do to turn things around that day. The Egyptians returned to their camp. They would stand their ground this day. Sinan Pasha pondered his situation: He was far from home with a broken army, in a land that was barren and in hospitable. But he too would stand his ground. A ceasefire was agreed upon and the Turks returned to Gaza to recuperate.

Janeer Al-Sura, Amir of Amirs, breathed deeply and with relief. He would rule a little longer. Within the day the story of his great victory was on its way to Cairo. And as preparations for his journey back to Cairo were undertaken, Janeer sat quietly in his tent and pondered the harquebus he held. It was the first time he had ever actually held one. He was impressed. It was well made and innocent enough looking, unlike the keen edge of his sword. Many had been scavenged from the battlefield and they would be taken to Cairo for safekeeping. Would his future be tied to these new strange weapons of war? Would he even have a future when the Ottomans returned?

Far to the north young Ismail sat attentively and listened, month after month and year after year, to the news of his northern campaign. The Caucasus’s from the Caspian to the Black would be his. His army’s progress was slow, but Ismail was young and he knew it was Allah’s will that all Persia from the steppe lands to the north to the great Ocean to the south would one day be his to rule in glory.

The Southern Caucasus Mountains, 1500

Losses
Ottoman: 4000 troops, 17 cannon
Mameluks: 4500 troops, 5 cannon
Safavid: 220 troops

Ethiopia
Eskender of Ethiopia’s loss of Aden to the Mameluks had been a frustrating affair. It had been planned to unite the his mother’s supporters and those of his half brother Na’Od behind the King, but his failure only made Eskender look weak and encourage intrigue and deception among his family. When the promised gold from Spain did not arrive, things appeared even more dismal. None-the-less, he had to act. In the summer of 1498 Na’Od sojourned at an estate in the highlands for the hottest months as was his practice. Couriers kept him well apprised of news from the capital and carried his instructions back to his waiting allies.

The eager hands and sharp blades of Eskender’s assassins dispatched old Na’Od’s household and imprisoned the master in his own dungeon. Couriers continued to carry messages to the city, but the message was new and very clear: pledge allegiance to Eskender or die. Many died. Some fled, but they only put off their bloody end as they were hunted down one by one. As the bloodletting slowed its pace and the power shift was complete, Na’Od was trotted out of his cell a broken and somewhat deranged man.

Songhai
Sunni Ali was full of energy and charged with making change. The arrival of the Portuguese at his coastal fort fueled his efforts to reshape his nation. Gold poured from his treasury to support new schools and investigate new ways of growing more food. He bribed those who opposed him and they kept quiet and stayed out of the way. He sent wise men to the coast to study the Portuguese ships and figure out how they were built and moved across the waves, but it was very slow going without an actual boat to examine closely. The establishment of a Portuguese trading fort just up the coast, though, created a perfect opportunity. Songhalese were taken on as workers there and soon they had closer access to the caravels and carracks that stopped over to trade their goods for Songhai slaves and gold. As the first boats of Sunni Ali’s “great fleet” foundered in the waves a few yards off shore, the Portuguese laughed and shook their heads. But it was a beginning.

The coast of Pomerania, summer 1496
Antonio Cappilaria has been in the Pope’s household for almost 8 years and a secretary for the last three; he had taken care of the pontiff under many trying and difficult circumstances. The sudden trip to Sweden was another one. The Pope was too old to ride and the wagon journey was slow and rough. By late June, two months after leaving Rome the Papal party reached the Pomeranian lands of Brandenburg and were preparing to board a ship for Stockholm. Innocent the VIII had decided that he was the best person to resolve the crisis in Sweden. He would make a personal plea to Sven to recant his defiant stance and accept the overlordship of Hans of Denmark. Word had gone ahead that the Pope was coming and couriers had carried details of the Pope’s thoughts on the matter. Antonio prayed for the success of the mission. It was important that the Christian world remain in harmonious union.

As he packed his red-leather bound account of the journey so far he thought back to the more memorable stopovers. For two weeks they were hosted by Duke Albert IV of Bavaria. Albert was a pious man caught in a difficult situation. Like most of the larger Holy Roman states Albert was struggling to keep his little duchy together as his family and liege lords worked diligently to keep it fragmented and free of Albert’s heavy hand and reformist ideas. Mostly the Pope approved of Albert’s measures and blessed them; he was not entirely happy though about the relaxing of the laws against Jews. Foremost though on Albert’s mind was the unification of Bavaria to its pre partition state 75 years earlier. George the Rich of Bavaria-Landshut was heirless and Innocent had supported the Dukes efforts join those two holdings. Money was the key and George was open to accepting gold for his cooperation. The lesser nobles succumbed to gold and coercion and bit by bit Albert expected to rebuild his duchy without a bloody struggle.

From Munich they had traveled to Augsburg where a young Nicholas Verner had taken over the fine trading house of his father and provided for the papal party while they were there. The Pope had known Nicholas’s father well and was quite taken by the maturing new head of the House and his beautiful French bride, Helene. From Augsburg the road led to Brandenburg and the expanding rule of Joachim I Nestor, Elector of the Empire. The Pope’s mission was of interest to Joachim whose new holdings in Pomerania brought him much closer to any discord in Kalmar. He prayed for success and a peaceful end to the efforts. The Elector spent time bringing the Pope up-to-date on his plans to build a small navy and expand the new U. of Berlin’s theological studies. The Pope was most interested in seeing the maps of the new lands that Martin Waldseemüller had drawn and they talked at length about the potential for saving the heathen souls of those who lived there.
Nestor provided a military escort for the holy entourage all the way to Stralsund on the coast where ships waited to carry them to Stockholm. Three ships lay moored in the harbor. Now they would leave within the hour as the tide turned and in four days be in Stockholm. Antonio was much relieved. From the deck of the “Dolphin’s Splash” he could see the Pope struggle up the side of the “Holy Rose” and make his way into the cabin. A few days on his own would enable Antonio to catch up of his work without interruption.

On the second night stormy winds and rolling seas off Hammershus tossed and wrenched and drove the small flotilla east and off the course for Kalmar and the inside passage route to Stockholm. Sunrise brought calmer seas and the Dolphin’s Splash all alone in the morning light. The captain reassured Antonio that all was well and the other ships would make their way north and rendezvous either at Kalmar or off Gotland, depending upon how far east the storm had taken them. In spite of the reassurance, Antonio prayed for the well being of the Pope and the men on board the other ships. A week later the Dolphin’s Splash anchored off Arsta havsbad for the short overland trip to Stockholm. Antonio put himself up at an inn on the coast and waited a week. Nothing. No news. Then 18 days after the storm had separated the three ships, a small trading ship that ran goods to Gotland and back put in with news. The third ship of their group, the “Martha” had arrived at Gotland harbor 8 days ago. The news was bad, very bad. The Holy Rose had foundered in the storm and all hands lost. The Pope was dead and Antonio wept.

When the remnants of the papal embassy finally assembled in the court of Sven of Sweden, the mood was somber. The plea for peace was made, but with little spirit. To Antonio it almost seemed like Sven was pleased the Pope was not here. His refusal was easier to announce; there was no papal reprimand or forceful argument for reversal. Antonio and his colleagues just left the room and made preparations to sail to Copenhagen to carry the news to King Hans.

Far ahead of them, though, the news of the Pope’s death sped south like the wind. Fast horses and tired riders carried it across the Empire, west to France and then south to Spain, east to Warsaw and then to Buda and Vienna, to Augsburg, across the Alps to Italy and finally Rome itself. The suddenness and sadness of the news stunned the papal bureaucracy. Masses were said, but no funeral would be forth coming. And the election of a new Pope had to be organized.

Algiers 1496
Barkiyarug had planned his forays into the Mediterranean with care. There were ample targets for his corsairs, but he was particular and had obligations to fulfill. The sailing season was limited and he would need to take the cold months off to repair and refit his small fleet. The winter seas were too dangerous with their sudden storms and high waves. In the spring he raided Venetian Crete. His 25 ships sailed east along the south coast stopping to pillage and burn and terrorize the Christians. The Venetian navy of over 100 vessels was nowhere to be seen. Off Cape Lithinon, a spring morning brought the pirates upon six Venetian merchantmen from Alexandria struggling against a headwind and the rocky shoreline; they were bound for the Adriatic. In a panic the Venetians scattered and were easy prey for the more numerous Algerians who drove them shoreward if they failed to let themselves be boarded and seized. Only one escaped. In a small isolated cove the corsairs counted out the slaves and booty. It took two days and was estimated at over 20,000 gold ducats worth. Sadly, the Venetian navy had been following the marauders path of destruction and the two fleets met as the pirates departed the cove. The fast galleys were amongst the corsairs in no time. It was the Algerians turn to flee with their Ill-gotten treasure. The Venetian patrol was only 20 ships, but 16 scored a capture. Three weeks later 9 beleaguered ships anchored at Algiers glad to be home. Barkiyarug’s plans had been wrecked with his ships, but he smiled as he counted his plunder: 5,800 ducats would fill his coffers.

He abandoned his plans in the Eastern Mediterranean to keep his remaining ships closer to home. The season had been cut short for the year, but he would use the time to repair and refurbish his ships and replace his crews. Over the winter he would build new ships. In the meantime he counted his gold and listened to the stories told along the dockside. One was more interesting than the rest. In late September a convoy of German mercenaries had passed by Gibraltar heading for Italy. Was war afoot? Barkiyarug wondered. He inquired further. By mid October they were in Naples. He assumed they would winter there or disembark for a winter war in Italy. Few captains were foolish enough to sail further in the uncertain weather of that time of the year. Whole fleets had disappeared beneath the waves of winter.

Rome: summer 1496
The election of the new Pope took a week, but with the rising white smoke the city of Rome broke into celebration. Archbishop of Naples Alessandro Carafa was elected and he took the name of Gregorius XIII. He was more of a reformist than his predecessor. One of his first announcements was that he planned to rebuild the Holy City and make Rome the new center of the Christian world.

Naples late in 1496
During the month in Naples that the Dutch mercenaries prepared for the next leg of their trip, Captain von Schwartz became less and less sure of its success. It was another 750 miles by sea to their destination and little was known about the city or its defenses. The Neapolitans envisioned a surprise night attack. Von Schwartz was a bit unclear on how one accomplished such a feat. The weeks at sea would debilitate his little army further and they would not be in particularly good shape to land and assault a city in the dark. Especially one they had never seen in daylight. Could they even approach the city undetected with 40 ships? The cannon certainly could not be unloaded at night. And then there was the sailor talk and how the mistrals of winter could raise the waves to fearsome heights and sink them all in an instant. Ferdinand though seemed determined and was paying the bills; The Netherlands seemed awfully far away. On the last Thursday of November 1496 all 5,000 troops gave thanks to god and set sail for Africa. There were fifty ships in all now; a conglomeration of galleys, merchantmen, and other assorted vessels, none of which carried cannon nor was particularly suited to combat. There would be no escort.

Half way across the Tyrrhenian Sea the mistrals blew in from the northwest with gale force and scattered the fleet. Forty-two showed up at the rendezvous off Sardinia. The rest presumably lost or returned to Naples. They sailed on. Their next landfall was at the eastern end of the great bay of Algiers at El Marsa. Upon rounding the cape and entering the 14 mile sweeping curve of the bay, the white walls and buildings of the city shown clearly at the far end. There would be no surprise. The commotion among the corsairs was evident so all speed was used to unload men and supplies without delay. By the time the army was half unloaded, the few Algerian war galleys that were anchored had mobilized their crews and making themselves ready for battle. Von Schwartz readied 3 cannon on the beach to offer some support for unprotected transports. Those that had unloaded were already fleeing. Shot from the Dutch cannon kept the corsairs who did not give chase, at a distance. The captains knew that every minute they stayed put them at greater risk so once they were unloaded, en mass, they fled north. A few were captured, but most made good their escape. The Dutch looked at one another and knew that if they failed in their attack they would all be lost.

Vienna
Nicholas Verner was on his way to Kiev and had been in Vienna for a week or so meeting customers and associates and his agents from all over the region. He was glad he had come. What he learned would have been difficult to capture through simple correspondence. Janos Corvinos was clamping down in Hungary and the nobles there were either pledging loyalty or leaving with their retainers and what they could carry. Many were heading west in hopes of a land hand out from the Hapsburgs. Others moved north to Bohemia and into the quasi independent kingdom there. The Black Army was the enforcer for Janos and a growing power. It was feared by those who hated the young Hungarian king and embraced by his supporters. But the improved stability would help Nicholas’s trading ventures. As he saw it, once the nobles disenchanted with Janos either left or “disappeared” the king would have a strong and loyal base to support his ongoing leadership.

The Polish situation was a bit more troubling. Casimir IV, reckoning that the deteriorating situation in Prussia and Livonia was an opportunity, had plunged himself into a war with the Teutonic Knights. In the summer of 1496 7,000 men and 20 cannon marched towards Danzig and equally sized force towards Konigsberg. There plans were simple: surround the cities, demand surrender and if they didn’t level them with cannon fire until they could be taken by storm. The knights did not cooperate. As Danzig was besieged (and supplied by sea) the newly enlarged Teutonic army swept up behind the besiegers of Konigsberg and drove them back to Lithuania with heavy losses. They followed up with a forced march to Danzig to confront the Poles there. From his agents stories Nicholas could not tell whether it was just bad luck or bad leadership that cost the Poles the battle at Danzig, In any case it was either retreat or perish and the army withdrew. A third of the Polish army was lost in the short lived campaign, but miraculously, only 1 cannon. Casimir called off further efforts as he licked his wounds.

Neither Nicholas nor his Austrian colleagues could quite figure out the Hapsburgs, but they were intrigued. Maximillian was ruling firmly in Austria and the Empire. He had implemented significant land reforms. The crown had not given up its holdings or its power to control who worked the land, but changed the arrangement between king, lord and peasant. The peasants were able to keep more of their crops in return for steady rent payments. These reforms were put into place at the same time that the Emperor undertook improvements in roads, irrigation and other agricultural infrastructure. It seemed to be paying off.

The Netherlands was undergoing a different experiment. Phillip and his council lead the Austrian Netherlands in a manner that was largely independent of Vienna. Here the land control was loosened and true freeholds were created in some areas. The plan seemed to fit with the Dutch ideas on independence and self rule. Dutch dissatisfaction was lessening. In any case, the trade arrangements of the Verners had not been adversely affected. In his letter to Helene that he sent before heading further east, Nicholas filled her in on the news and inquired about the business in Augsburg. Helene had taken a greater role in managing things while he was traveling and was making smart decisions. Her last correspondence had brought him news of a London Bank that had financed a Neapolitan adventure in Africa that involved Dutch troops. She had no more details at the moment, but felt that keeping their eye on such a bank would be a smart thing to do. Nicholas concurred.

Copenhagen
King Hans heard the bad news about the Pope and then heard the worse news about Sven Sture. The death of the Pope sent the entire nation into mourning. Masses were held and prayers offered throughout the land. There was talk and some feared that Kalmar would be blamed because the Pope was traveling to solve the “Swedish problem”. Some tried to blame the Swedes and claimed that his ship had not foundered in a storm, but was sunk by Sture’s henchmen to make sure Sven stuck to the path of separatism. On the tails of the collapse of the papal embassy came the news that Sven was reading his troops for war and preparing to defend his territory from Hans or even the Muscovites should they become a threat. Hans’ agents estimated the Swedish army at a few thousand men at most. Perhaps, he thought, not all were loyal?

Augsburg 1498
Jean Claude Vauchamps, Helene’s brother, had been with the firm since Helene married Nicholas. He was smart and had a knack for trading and easing information from others even if they were reluctant to talk. He spoke English, Spanish and French so he spent most of his time with Verner business in those nations. While Nicholas was in the east he spent more time in Augsburg helping Helene manage the business and raise the children. Peter was born in 1492 and Mathilda four years later. Together they composed a long epistle to Nicholas about the events he had missed. England and Scotland were generally quiet, while Ireland grew a bit more unruly daily. The English king was focused on keeping his court controlled had had little time for the intrigues of Irish lords or the English lords there that constantly bickered among themselves. Jean Claude was pretty sure that Ireland would always be a sore spot no matter who was in charge. James of Scotland was encouraging the study arts and education among his subjects and currying the support of his nobles. The king was currently engaged in a “grand” tour of his nation (grand being quite relative in this case given that Scotland was not particularly large to begin with). As a campaign to woo his lords and ladies, it appeared to be working. So besides the expected unruliness of the Irish, the British Isles were quiet. He did note though that there was increased activity in the shipyards of Glasgow and Edinburgh. The king had commissioned those skilled in maritime occupations on the continent and brought them to Scotland. Something was afoot. He was sure of it. Helene laughed at this and suggested that maybe he was just trying to keep up with the Spanish and Portuguese.

Jean Claude’s recent trip to Lisbon and Madrid had been most thought provoking. The Spanish had established a small settlement in the newly discovered lands and called it Puerto de Cristo. With some audacity they called the whole of the lands mapped “New Spain”. Not only had Captain Columbus continued his explorations, but trips to the new settlement were happening with some regularity. Little was known about the people of New Spain, but he was sure that they were not rich traders from the Spice Islands. He caught a glimpse of several while in Madrid and thought them quite barbaric. They were dark skinned and roughly dressed. They bore pagan tattoos and spoke a gruff, foul language. There was no hope they were Christian. Strangest of all they breathed smoke and were surrounded by great clouds of it as they walked about. Clearly it was the work of the devil. In spite of all the talk of Puerto de Cristo, there was more going on in Spain. The fields were bounteous and the great cities busy and productive. Most of all, her shipyards were full as the king & Queen had commissioned many ships to be built.

Exploration fever was also present in Lisbon. Dias continued his exploration of what was called Diascia and had also established a small enclave there. Little was known about this place other than it was far away. The King of Portugal was ambitious. He had also sent Vasco de Gama south to the shores of the fabled kingdom of Songhai to establish trade and then Captain de Gama had sailed south for lands unknown. He had not heard any news of his return, but he had seen gold, ivory and slaves from Africa on the quay in Lisbon.

In Paris Charles VIII was spending lavishly. Most obviously it was on the marriage to Margaret of Austria in 1497, but few other groups of importance were left out of the king’s largesse. The wedding was far more than just the joining of two souls into one. The king worked hard to push a church reformist agenda among the guests; he even took the occasion to declare a Synod in Brouges.



The pressure to reform the church, or perhaps just the French church, came from both the King of France and the new Pope. Gregorius the XIII had not yet taken a firm stance on such matters, but most knew his reformist streak ran deep. The conservative backlash was quick and vocal.

In economic news France was stretching her wings; trade enclaves were set up in Novgorod, Candia (Crete) and Copenhagen. Helene immediately recognized the great circle of French influence and trade that was spreading.

Off Malta 1499
Captain von Schwartz rested his weary arms on his oar and put his head on them to catch a short rest while he could. The looting of the just captured Spanish merchant ship would occupy the corsairs for some time. It had almost been 3 years since Algiers and the total failure of the Neapolitan attack. It was his hatred of both the Italians and the Algerians kept him going. One day he would escape or finally be ransomed and he looked forward to that day with hope and a burning desire to go back to war in the service of any nation at war with either. Over the years he had rethought the attack on Algiers many times and as yet had not found any way he could have made it successful. Too many important things had been neglected from the start. Most of those he blamed on the Italians. He cursed them regularly even when one was assigned to pull the same oar. All of them were idiots.

Two days after their landing, the army had marched on the city of Algiers itself. Cannon were set up to bring down the walls and preparations for the assault made. Their camp had been fortified as best they could given their circumstances, but neither he nor the Italian general really expected an Arab rabble to actually attack an armed camp of Europeans. The attack came in the middle of the night and was oddly uncoordinated. Weak assaults came all along the perimeter and as the newly awakened troops were ready, he had sent them all around to reinforce the camp boundaries. The morning though told the tale. In the confusion of repulsing the perimeter attacks, the beach had been neglected. Apparently small infiltrator groups had come ashore from the undefended sea and pillaged their supplies. The guards lay about with their throats cut. Water casks were broken, foodstuffs dumped into the ocean, gunpowder spilled and mixed with the sand. Not all was destroyed, but enough to make a bad situation approach being dire. With their transports racing back to Naples, there was no hope of resupply.

So they attacked. Three great bastions and numerous towers protected the eastern wall of the city. Cannon protruded from the embrasures. The wall was breached in two places and the Dutch attacked one and the Italians the other. There was no going back. There was nothing to go back to. Their harquebus were mostly useless once the walls were reached and the hand to hand combat began. Swords, daggers and even stones and pieces of wood all became weapons of choice as troops piled into the rubble that had been the wall. Within an hour of the attack, he had known they had failed. Too many men had died and all momentum had been lost as the bodies piled higher and higher. Of the roughly 4,000 men who had made the assault, 2,200 surrendered into slavery. To the best of his knowledge, none had been ransomed. Damned Italians. Von Schwartz perked up at the sounds of screams. It seems the cargo had been organized and it was the captured crew’s turn. The old or infirm were being tossed overboard, the young being buggered and the unruly, but strong, being beaten into submission. Like him, they too had been abandoned by god.

Kiev
The Russian church and Princes cared little for the death of the Pope, but expressed their condolences in a polite manner anyway. Their support for Hans of Denmark was unwavering. He was sent 500 gold as a present as were Philip of Hapsburg, Henry of England and Charles of France in varying amounts. By the time Nicholas arrived in Kiev and caught up on the news, lots had happened. Ivan III had been hard at work on many fronts. He had been aggressive in his war against the Swedish rebellion. He had ordered Hanse merchant ships seized and converted them, as best as possible, into ships of war. His army had gone to war in Finland to stamp out any rebellion as he coerced the locals to pledge allegiance to Muscovy as much as Denmark. The newly created navy raided up and down the Gulfs of Bothnia and Finland. Vyborg and Abo both fell under the Russian attacks. Emboldened by their success General Daniil Schenya set out on a daring raid to pillage Uppsala, just north of Stockholm as a way to terrorize the Swedish separatists. His inexperience as a naval captain and the dangerous and complicated channels of the eastern Swedish coastlands proved his undoing. The winds and tides of the region were unfamiliar to him and as ships went aground, and others were isolated and captured by the Swedes, his attack collapsed in confusion. All his ships were lost and close to 2,000 men killed. None the less the war was going well overall. Sven took little notice of the Finnish situation and kept his army poised for an invasion from Denmark. He let the local Finns fend for themselves. When it became clear that the Swedes were assuming a defensive posture and not aggressively going after the Russian invaders, Ivan sent an embassy to Copenhagen, London, and Brugge with a special envoy sent on to Paris. Diplomatic and trade ties were firmly established along the way. Marriage proposals were discussed: Princess Feodosiya Ivanova to either Prince Arthur or Prince Henry of England; Princess Elena Ivanova to Philip Hapsburg of Austria; and Princess Evdoksiya Ivanova to Prince Christian of Denmark. Upon hearing of all these marriage negotiations, Victoria Smith, third consort to Henry of England, was heard to remark: “Just who does this barbarian Prince think he is, marrying his whole damn family into all the royal families of Europe? What if they have a disease or a chin like that Austrian fellow?” She was greeted with light chuckles.

The political intrigues and courtly maneuvering of the Russians was extensive and it all seemed to lead to more power for the Prince and less for everyone else. Sophia and Vasily succumbed and were exiled to Nizhny-Novgorod and Dimtriy named heir. But Ivan could not control every event. His illness in 1498 left him impaired and he had to rush negotiations with Hans of Denmark to arrange Dimitriy’s marriage to Elizabeth. In 1499 Ioann relapsed and slowly died. Dimitriy was crowned ruler despite his young age. A caretaker council was formed to manage state affairs until he came of age. In a last flutter of Ivan’s power the Prince of Ryazan died and according to his will which was written under the “guidance” of Ivan, his Principality fell to the Prince of Muscovy: Dimitriy.

Italy 1500
Lucrezia de' Medici was quite at home in her Florentine villa surrounded by her many children. Her husband, Jacopo Salviati, was a notable figure on the political scene and she enjoyed his stories of the princes and cardinals of Italy. In their most recent conversations it seemed that things were quite confused. The new Pope was a wondrous and energetic man who was rebuilding the Holy City to unknown standards of grandeur.

Construction of the largest and most prestigious University was underway on the western banks of the Tiber; renovation, restoration and refurbishment of the churches and Roman buildings, including the Church of St John of Lateran and St Peter's Basilica was scheduled; the Via Salvatio, that linked Lateran and Vatican through the centre of Rome (where the Coliseum and Forum were), the Tiber Island and university grounds was being reconstructed to be a grand route. Lucrezia could hardly wait to see it all completed.

But elsewhere things were not so tidy. The Pope had taken to bringing the barons of his Papal lands in Italy to heel and be more compliant to Papal demands. New Cardinal Legates for Bologna and the Marche were appointed and with money and browbeating one by one the barons were brought under control. The hand of the French king seemed to leave prints all over the peninsula. Both Genoa and Milan showed signs of turmoil and instability. Venice and Savoy seemed in a bit of limbo and lacking direction. Ferdinand of Naples had squandered his army on some ill fated venture in Africa and was now vulnerable in her husband’s eyes.

New Spain 1500
Father Elmo glanced about as he made his way from his small cottage up the hill to the new church that had been finished the year before. It wasn’t much, nothing like the great stone cathedrals of Spain, but it was his charge and his parish carved from the great wooded wilderness that was New Spain. Puerto de Cristo was struggling, but it was a battle they were winning. They were at peace with the natives and learning from them daily. New crops were being grown and the settlers were adapting to a whole new way of living. Many men had taken on the native habit of smoking a local plant they called “tobacco”. Even Father Elmo had tried it on occasion and had found it most relaxing. His job of providing for the spiritual well being of the community was going well and he even had some converts form the natives. Slowly as language barriers were broken they came by the church to inquire about the great god of the Spanish king.

Recently Captain Columbus had returned from his explorations to the north. Of his five ships, only two remained. The voyage up the coast had been mostly uneventful as they sailed and mapped the coast. The broadleaf forests and sandy beaches slowly grew dense with tall evergreens and rocky shores as the weather turned cooler and less certain. Small bays and estuaries were frequent. As they sailed the northern latitudes the sea showed itself to be rich with fish and oysters, just as the forests were filled with deer and other game that was new to them. The native peoples were similar to those of the south, but spoke differently and were at time hostile. The whole journey was put in peril when a storm drove three of the ships against the rocky shore and forced Columbus to retrace his steps south with only two ships. Winds pushed the ships east, off the coast and a small archipelago was discovered. Two islands of size were mapped and their rich grasslands and a proliferation of wild grapes noted in the log.

Portugal, the Court of King John 1500
Both Vasco de Gama and Captain Diaz were in attendance today and the court secretary was writing as fast as he could. They were providing the king with the latest on their explorations. Diaz had sailed successively to Diascia and mapped another thousand miles of horrid, wet, and impossible to penetrate coastline looking for some place to establish a Portuguese foothold in the new world. The dense wet jungle was not fit for civilized men to live so he kept sailing. He first sailed southeast along his original route and then southwest as the land folded itself in a wholly different direction. Weeks of sailing revealed only more of the terrible jungled coast without end. He sailed for almost 1,400 miles. Replenishing was easy; the coast had many sources of water, fresh meat and fish. They saw few people and those refused to make contact. As despair of ever finding anything more took hold the coast turned once again this time to the north. The change soon became apparent. The air was drier and the jungle thinner, and it grew thinner by the day. Several hundred miles up the coast they anchored in a small bay that was surrounded by subtropical scrubland. It was a place they could actually explore. They gave thanks to God and prayed for a safe return to Portugal. In two weeks of recuperation and reading their ships the discovered that they were at the northern edge of the tropical jungle and dry grassland stretched along the coast to the north and inland as far as they could see. Here they could settle. Fifty souls volunteered to stay and await the return of Diaz as soon as he could. The rest would return to Portugal.

De Gama’s tale was filled with woe. Seven ships had sailed from the Cape Verde islands three years ago. Only two returned to see Lisbon again. Captain de Gama himself had been wrecked and saved along a god forsaken African coast. His voyage began auspiciously with strong winds that scooted the small flotilla across the Gulf of Guinea to a dry and mild coast far south of the Congo and their previous exploration. The climate and sparse coast reminded them of home. Their stops for water and fresh meat brought them into contact with small groups of black people who seemed to live further inland and only frequented the coast from time to time. When they came upon a passage east they took it. It was a channel right through the land. Their return voyage revealed that the land to the south was an island of no great size. The open ocean returned in a few days and they sailed east along the coast. Strong currents and gusty winds stirred the ocean and soon a maze of land crossed their bow causing fear among the crew. Tragedy struck first here. A sudden gale caught two ships in a narrow passage they were wrecked on a rocky cape as they struggled to keep up. Five survivors were rescued as the remaining ships searched the area once the storm had passed. They were sailing north west now and all had high hopes that the worst was behind them. But the treacherous currents and broken land continued for more miles. Black people called Bantu were populous along the northern coast, but none were seen to the south. De Gama did not want to stop in this place so they sailed on in haste. When at last they broke free to open ocean they were hit by a roiling storm from the east that sank two more ships and drove the Captains vessel on to the shore. The ship was lost, but most of the crew survived.

Once they had recovered what they could and repaired the last two ships they followed the coast once again. This time it was northerly. Three days later De Gama anchored off a small community populated by Bantus and a single family of Muslim traders! His Arabic speaking second mate confirmed that they had indeed rounded Africa and were now sailing the great ocean of India. The traders were amazed that they had come from the south and were from Portugal. To the north lay all the riches of the Indies.

Map 1500

Columbus's voyage noted, as well as, the Portuguese route around Africa.

To Dimitriy, newly crowned Grand Prince of all of Rus,
From King Hans of Denmark, Sweden and Norway

The news of Your Father's death saddens Us greatly; know that He was an honest man, and a good ruler. We have high hopes that You will walk in His footsteps, and Yourself emerge as a grand ruler, with Our daughter by Your side in marriage.

We wish to inform You and Your mentors that, due to the most unfortunate events concerning the visit of The Holy Father Himself, not even the emissaries of God Himself has been able to talk the rebel, Sven Sture, into giving up his throne. It is Our wish that Your armies will assist Ours as Your Father wished it; We march upon the Swedish rebels in the spring of The year 1502. May God lead Us to victory!

Your Friend and King of the Kalmar,
Hans of Denmark.

To: Sven Sture
From:
His Holiness Il Papa Gregorius XIII,
Episcopus Romanus et Vicarius Christi, Successor Principis Apostolorum, Summus Pontifex Ecclesiae Universalis, Patriarcha Occidentis, Primas Italiae.

I am grieved to hear that you did not respect the wishes of my esteemed predecessor who had strived to foster peace between Christian brothers and martyred himself for that cause. It is on your head that Innocentus VIII died. It is on your head that this potential war between the rightful King of the Kalmar Union and yourself, a mere regent will break out causing bloodshed between Christian and Christian.

Pray tell how one could potentially reconcile this?

Should you not see reason and go to the table with King Hans, the rightful King of the Kalmar Union, I will have to ensure that you and anyone who fights on your side are not considered Christian - to satisfy the conscience of the Church, and in respect of the memory of the previous Pope who was martyred for the sake of peace. It is my belief that you shall do the right thing.

The Pope is dead. Long live the Pope.

From: King John II of Portugal, Madeira, Cape Verde, Ceuta and Diascia
To: His Holiness Il Papa Gregorius XIII

We send our condolences for the death of your predecessor, Pope Innocentius VIII, in his travel towards the cold north, to prevent what could be a massacre, and congratulate you for your newly gained position as the head of Christendom.

We implore to you that you decide over a matter that your predecessor left in the air and that it is becoming more important as time goes on.

As you might remember, it was a Portuguese fleet, led by a Portuguese sailor, that discovered the new lands at the west of the Atlantic Ocean, and thus Portugal rightly claimed those lands for we were the first to set foot in them, save for the natives that live there. Then a Spanish fleet, led by a Genoese sailor, arrived to a point much farther to the north from where the Portuguese landed, and also claimed those lands for themselves.

During negotiations over ownership of the new lands, the Spanish made an insulting and surreal claim over three quarters of the new lands, when even they knew that it was us that discovered the lands first, and thus deserved equal or more than them. We brought this matter to Pope Innocentius VIII through our ambassador to the Papal States, but the Pope wasn't able to choose a side due to the lack of a message from Spain and his untimely death.

Thus, we come to you, the representant of Our Lord in Earth, so that you can decide who has more rights for the new lands.

Yours faithfully,
King John II of Portugal, Madeira, Cape Verde and Diascia

OOC:

Neverwonagame3 said:

Quitting as might have been expected.

Click to expand...

Reformulated for greater accuracy. Seriously though, this has got to be a new record. Your situation is not remotely desperate yet.

Anyway, in the interests of full disclosure, the Muscovite stories.

IC:

---1496---

The church bells were ringing all over the capital, and people in the streets cheered loudly as the best warriors in the Great Prince's army lined along the Trade Square[1], and the captured mirzas in their bright and luxurious robes kneeled and prostrated themselves before the Great Prince, who had emerged from the palace. At the Great Prince's left hand was a young boy - the princeling Vasily, who was but a few weeks ago confirmed as heir and granted the principality of Tver and nearby cities. At the Great Prince's right hand was a powerfully-built armour-clad man with a large, healthy face that still was as full of vigour as it was decades ago, in spite of the man's greying hair. The man's right hand was resting on his scabbard, which hid a curved Tatar saber. This was Prince Daniil Schenya Patrikeyev, and he was the hero of the day, having returned with his retainers and hosts from the southern campaign. The Prince brought back many tropheys, many of which he had already distributed among his retainers and the people of Moscow; the rest he gave over to the Great Prince; and together with those tropheys came he thirty-four captured mirzas of the Big Horde who were now begging the Great Prince for mercy or swearing allegiance to him. It was hard to tell and the difference was insignificant because the Great Prince was not going to kill them and not going to let them rule on as before either. The Great Prince Ioann would probably not let them go back; he had grown quite used to keeping all the nobles he had conquered somewhere nearby and having his dyaks rule their lands for them. This was called "gathering the Russian lands", and now it was apparently extended to the Tatar lands as well.

The sun was shining, the bells were ringing, the people were smiling and shouting, the conquering warriors, Schenya's retainers, looked on impassively, the mirzas were kneeling and eloquently glorifying the deeds and character of the Great Prince, the Great Prince was smiling, Schenya was smiling, and the princeling Vasily was trying to smile too, though he knew not why. Everyone was very happy with themselves and with each other and with the whole situation; everyone in the city but for one man who was even now standing behind the Great Prince with several other court officials and frowning; he did not like seeing the princeling Vasily and Daniil Schenya standing so closely; but for the most part the dyak Feodor Kuritsyn was simply reminiscing. The Trade Square - the Fire Square - and the cheering people, and the impassive guardians, brought back bad and recent memories. He was still alive; he was still close to the Great Prince; but things were so much more difficult, so much worse than they used to be.

It was a year ago, give or take a few days, that envoys from Novgorod passed through this square and arrived at the Kremlin, bringing with themselves the heretics that the Archbishop Gennadiy arrested n Novgorod and a letter to the Great Prince. After that letter the Great Prince withdrew to his inner chamber and paced back and forth, occasionally attacking servants in rage. Finally, he settled down and gave his consent; the Archbishop's men then arrested the protopopes Alexius and Dionysius. Zachariah the Jew evaded them for some time, hiding away at the house of Elena the Wallachian; but eventually they burst in and seized him too. When Elena told about this to Feodor as he came back from the meeting with Prince Ivan Patrikeyev, he hurried to the palace, advising Elena that it will end badly if she were to try and seek an audience with the Great Prince by herself, even if she were to be admitted into his presence in the first place.

The Great Prince did admit his old and faithful servant, and did not arrest or attack him. They talked for a long time, and the conversation was polite and friendly, but both were deeply unhappy. Finally, Feodor asked for the protopopes to be released; the Great Prince refused. They talked for some more, and despite Gennadiy's orders neither Feodor nor his brother Ivan Volk nor Elena the Wallachian were arrested on that day or in the subsequent months; they were not even exiled; and the Great Prince reaffirmed that they were under his protection. But everyone else was sent out into the square and burned at the stake as per Phragian custom to the rejoicing of the usually insular crowd. And despite the fact that he was still alive and still apparently close to the Great Prince, Feodor Kuritsyn could not help but feel that something went horribly wrong and that his lucky star had waned. It was not as though Feodor Kuritsyn the powerful courtier cared much about those heretics; it was not as though Feodor Kuritsyn the philosopher even agreed with their beliefs; and even as an ordinary human being he never liked their sanctimonious and prideful ways, for they annoyed him dearly. But the facts remained facts: the people who came to him and to Elena for protection have now been publically executed. That meant he had failed. That meant he had truly and fully eclipsed, and the subsequent confirmation of Vasily the son of Sofiya as Great Prince Ioann's heir merely confirmed it; and since then he had never been able to meet with Prince Ivan Patrikeyev again, though they had planned to, for the elder Patrikeyev was too smart a prince to associate with his setting sun.

Therefore Feodor Kuritsyn was unhappy with the proceedings, even though he himself had done much to make this latest victory possible. Nonetheless, there was a lot of work to do, and so as soon as the mock-ceremony in the Trade Square had ended he sent a servant to arrange a meeting at the Dormition Cathedral - this location was convenient because the courtiers, led by the Great Prince himself and the tired elderly Metropolitan Zosima, now headed there followed by the most trusted of the best of Schenya's retainers.

Somehow, Zosima managed to gather himself despite visibly trembling on the way to the cathedral. He delivered an eloquent sermon on the glory of the Great Prince, whom he called the Caesar, and the divine ordainment of his victory over the godless foreigners, and conducted a special service on this occassion to thank the Lord for the victory and ask him for continued success and the safety of Russian warriors. After all was done, the courtiers began to disperse, and Feodor approached Prince Daniil Schenya.

"I regret having failed to talk with you earlier, Prince," - started Feodor - "Nevertheless, I trust that all went well with the Tatars?"

"Certainly," - shrugged Schenya indifferently - "There is no need to fear; there were no quarrels, neither with the Crimeans nor with those Cossacks, runaways though they may be. The Nogaians have not attacked yet either, to my knowledge, so there is time to prepare the defenses as soon as I return..."

"Ah. You have not heard, then? It does not seem as though you will return soon; the Danish King has called for help against rebels in his land, and the Great Prince has expressed a desire to put you in charge of the campaign."

"The Danish King is a brother of my Sovereign," - emphatically declared the Prince, raising his head in pride - "If my Sovereign sees fit to send me after the Daish King's enemies, then I shall be his faithful bloodhound. But... I trust that the southern fortresses will be handed over to the worthy?"

"I have spoken with the Great Prince; he recognises the right of your kin to commanding the hosts that remain there."

"Well, that's all good then!"

"Certainly. I fear things are not as well here, though," - said Kuritsyn somewhat hurriedly, as he saw another man approach in the corner of his eye - "You have heard that young Vasily has now become the heir; I fear that he might be under the ill influence of foreigners and shameless people such as that villain Gusev..."

"Yes, I do not like them either, but if it is the will of the Sovereign..."

"I ask you merely to pass on my concerns and yours to your kinsman, Ivan the son of Yuri."

"Then I shall do that when I next see him. But now I see the Great Prince." - added Daniil and walked towards Ioann, who had reentered the Cathedral after most everyone else had left and was now standing expectantly. Feodor followed him.

"Ah, Prince Daniil, Feodor." - said the Great Prince, beaming - "Feodor, We take it you have explained to Our most trusted warlord the predicament of Our brother the Danish King?"

"Indeed, and I am willing to do whatever You require of me," - said the Prince.

"We knew it could not be otherwise. The Danish envoy had left not long before you have returned, but We shall write to Our brother so that he could frighten the rebel Shven Shturin with word of your coming. There are some other matters you could help with while in the Novgorodian land, though; it is all very important to Us personally, so We Ourselves and Our most trusted dyak, who is well-versed in the matters of foreigners and embassies both, should discuss all of this with you as soon as possible..."

It was at this moment that Zosima, having come down from the pulpit, approached the three. He was clearly tired and also nervous for some reason; he was shaking again.

"Dear Father, are you well?" - asked Daniil Schenya, who noticed the old man first.

"Alas, no," - said Zosima, and looked at Ioann - "Great Prince, please pardon me for interrupting Your speech, but truly my soul can wait no longer."

"I am old, ill and tired in spirit and body; I can no longer bear the responsibility of the chair," - continued Zosima after the Great Prince nodded encouragingly and with sudden concern on his face, either real or well-faked - "I have tried to persist for as long as I could, knowing that the Greek Patriarch could not yet find a replacement even though many are both capable and willing here, but I grow more feeble with every day. I beg you to release me from the chair and to allow me to return to my old monastery where I could find peace."

"Think nothing of it; I shall not force you to bear more than you could, and I know you have had to endure much," - said the touched Great Prince sympathetically and magnaminiously, amid the awe of all other churchmen and remaining courtiers that had gathered around them by this moment due to their vain curiosity - "If you retire to the monastery, I will not impede you."

Zosima thanked the Great Prince profusely and bowed and kissed his ring. The three then walked out of the Cathedral, heading towards the palace, followed by five of Schenya's warriors.

"So, then, Our dear Feodor," - said the Great Prince in a vaguely amused tone that dispelled any doubts that a less experienced man than Kuritsyn might have had about his foreknowledge if not involvement in Zosima's plan for retirement, and also hinted at other plans within the plans - "this is another matter. There is indeed no obvious replacement for the Metropolitian and his placeholder will only do for so long. The Patriarch of Constantinople is in a conundrum; truth be told, the difficulty is not the sparseness of the willing, but rather in their multitude; he has written to Us for advice on this matter, but We too are confused. Mayhaps you can suggest something?" Ioann smiled slightly at the end.

"Mayhaps I do," - replied Feodor Kuritsyn, noting to himself that all of this evidently went over Prince Daniil's head.

---1497---

"...And then I promised the Great Prince to persuade you to meet with him and to accept the Metropolitan's chair; the Great Prince entrusted this to me first and foremost because we do have common enemies. Gennadiy Gonzov and Iosif have accused both of us of heresy for different reasons, but I assure you that those allegations are as true about me as they are about you. Contrary to what you have written to me, I do not ask of this merely for myself, though I confess that I too will benefit from you repairing the Church and reining in those who are loyal to it in words and betray the faith in deed - as will all men of reason and conscience in Moscow. This is a matter of importance for all the Russian lands, and for the entirety of Christendom. I beg of you to accept, and I pledge to assist you in every way I can if you do; I know the Great Prince will do the same, for he too has grown tired of the worldly wealth and intrigues that surround the Church in its current regretful state. Surely you can see that this is a Godly cause."

The monastic cell was small and seemed cramped, though it was nearly empty but for a rough wooden "bed", a primitive stool and a table that served as a writing desk; that last one was impressive and well-equipped, for its owner allegedly spent almost all of his time writing, copying and translating manuscripts. It followed that he did not spend nearly enough time with correspondence, but that was contradicted by the dyak's own experience. Feodor Kuritsyn did not at all frequent monasteries, but he was sure that the monastic cells anywhere else in Russia would probably seem downright luxurious as compared with those of Nil Sorskiy's skete[2]. Although... it remained an open question: which one of those, Iosif Volotsky or Nil Sorskiy, kept himself and his followers in hardier conditions. And which one will end up hounding him, Feodor Kuritsyn, worse.

"I have already written back to you, and also to the Great Prince, dyak. I might yet meet him if he truly desires my advice, but I have everything my mind requires here, and I would rather not mire myself in Moscow and in high rank - for what is the Metropolitan now if not a Court rank, and an infamous one at that?"

"Indeed; but you can change that, and the Great Prince could not trust it to anyone else."

"And the Patriarch of Constantinople?" - asked Nil grimly, never looking up from the desk. Kuritsyn became confident that the damnable elder was mocking him.

"The Patriarch of Constantinople asks the Great Prince for his advice."

"The power of the Great Prince is awesome and granted by God, but surely the Patriarch should be advising him on matters of the Church and not the other way around. Yet as it is, the Great Prince appoints his Metropolitan as he appoints his Stablemaster; and in this he does not follow the will of God. I cannot abide by that, if you still have not understood."

"So you refuse, then? Despite all..."

"Yes, indeed I do," - the elder interrupted - "I will not be your saviour at the Court, and I will not be your puppet at the Chair. Leave me be to my studies, and tell the Great Prince to come here himself or else provide for me to come to him, but not to expect me to do what you and he want."

"But then our common enemies..."

"You mindless fool, do you still not..." - said Nil firmly, exasperated, and then stopped himself as if in annoyance at his weaknesses - "I have no enemies. I have no enemies but my own sinful nature, and the Devil, who is the mischief-maker and in whose service you happen to be, for better or not. You were wrong to come here, dyak, unless you wish to join my humble skete in an attempt to at least partly remedy your sins, which are as immeasurable as those of your declared enemies if not more so. Join or leave; and in any case, forget about your ridiculous and pride-fueled plan, or better yet forget about all of your intrigues and other plans because they are all doomed to fail in the end."

Feodor Kuritsyn stood up, hit his head, clenched his teeth, bowed and went away. His servants were waiting outside at a respectful distance from the small skete. The dyak sighed. This outcome was not entirely unexpected, but was disapponting anyway. The old man of the wasteland was impossible to work with anyway; he was too... whatever he was: pious, or sanctimonious, or ascetic, or farsighted, or principled... Regardless, perhaps this was for the best: had Nil agred to stoop to becoming the supreme leader of Russian Orthodoxality, he would have been impossible to rein in. He and his ascetic followers had preached abolishing monasterial lands; the Great Prince (but really, not just the Great Prince) was very interested in them for that reason and because they were at odds with the all too independent archbishop of Novgorod; but in truth, after abolishing monasterial landownership, who knows where Nil would stop? Perhaps he will finish off the so-called heretics; unlike Gennadiy Gonzov, who was at least capable of patience and temporary compromises with reality if not with his enemies, Nil would be impossible to haze until either Feodor or Nil is destroyed, if not physically then in the eyes of the Sovereign. Or maybe he will try and abolish nobility or at least noble landownership, as he had allegedly preached; that would go really well once the boyars figure it out, both for the no-longer-to-be-Metropolitan and for everyone connected with him. No, perhaps Feodor was better off not helping Nil into power, and Nil was better off being allowed to stay here where he annoyed everyone but threatened none.

In any case, all was not so bad at the Court now. Elena and Dmitriy were not sent away from Moscow after all, despite some rumours to the effect; the Great Prince allowed them to remain in their current terem[3] at the Kremlin. Ivan Volk was sent away, but Feodor knew that this was not that bad an exile; his brother was going to lead a great embassy to Denmark and the Phragian countries further west, and this meant he was both safe from intrigues and was likely to come into favour upon his return. Anyway, back in Moscow the Princes Patrikeyevy, Ryapolovskiye and Obolenskiye once again began to visit Elena to pay their regards and restate their support, and Feodor knew from his own ears that it was this support in the Duma that thwarted the efforts of the dyak Vladimir Gusev, a close ally of Sofiya the Despotess who still tried to expel Dmitriy. Although Vasily's position as heir seemed unchallengeable, the Great Prince himself was growing wary of his son's advisors and their constnt intrigues, to say nothing of Gusev and his bickering with Muscovite boyars that scared away many of Sofiya's old supporters - and replaced them with uppity boyar children eager to get into the princeling's favour. Sure, Vasily received Tver, and the new city founded in the south was named after him, but in the months that followed, many things had changed, and Feodor had helped change them. But... it would have been so convenient, to make the worst and most bitter enemy of Gennadiy Gonzov the new Metropolitan. And yet none of Feodor's efforts could make this bold plan work; not even personally travelling to the well-hidden forest skete.

Ah well. There was, after all, another option.

---1498---

Those people gathered as previously agreed upon at the house of Vladimir Gusev: Muscovite and Tverian boyar children, lesser princelings and dyaks, a largely poor but nevertheless proud and therefore well-dressed company. As they were seated at the table, they could not help but whisper among themselves about the cause of this meeting and the recent rumours about this and that: the Great Princess' correspondence with the French king, the quarrel between Koshkin and Schenya in the Sumian land[4] and the sudden resignation of Gennadiy Gonzov from the archbishopric of Novgorod. Many, having only now heard of it, saw the hand of the hated Feodor Kuritsyn in this; for were he and Gennadiy not mortal enemies? And did Kuritsyn not return into the Great Prince's favour? And did he not send his brother there? And some even claimed to have seen Kuritsyn talking with Schenya before the latter departed for Novgorod, though that was long ago and scarcely relevant. Others gave no credence to that rumour, though.

Most of the people gathered here - and there were near thirty - knew each other, but all of them had never gathered together in one place before. They were all united by their allegiance to their host and their plans for the Great Prince's heir, and they recognised even those they never saw or heard of before in their lives as the comrades of their cause, and even if they did not know them themselves they still assumed that one of the other guests probably did.

Finally, as the servants gave out food, Vladimir Gusev took his place at the front of the table and bid the feast begin. It was modest by the standards of the Great Prince and luxurious by the standards of the boyar children. The host seemed vexed somehow, and worried, but few paid attention to his face. He sat and ate with the rest, but not naerly as much as they did. That said, he seemed healthy, and not even particularly aged, some new grey hair and wrinkles aside.

Eventually as the guests had sated their hunger somewhat the atmosphere of unease was restored, and more and more eyes turned towards the host. He acknowledged this with a nod, stood up and began his speech.

"Brothers, our Sovereign Ioann whom we all loyally serve has fallen ill."

Gasps followed.

"There is scarcely any need to fear for his life just yet, and the prayers of the entire Russian land are with him," - Gusev was quick to reassure them - "But the Sovereign's enemies whom I need not name, the asps that hide at his Court, think differently. They think that he will die, or will not recover quickly; and if it is not so they shall try to make it so. They think so: 'now is the time for us to strike, to rule over the Court in the Sovereign's name and against the Sovereign's will, and to cause whatever mischief we want: to remove all the loyal, the pious and the just, and to send the Princeling and the Great Princess away, and to make the bastard Dmitriy the new heir, for he is but our puppet.' This is what they think! This is what they are planning even now!"

"But what are we to do?" - asked a young red-haired man at the far end of the table.

"Cut them up!" - shouted Prince Ivan Ivanovich Khrul Paletsky, standing up in excitement and reaching for his sword; he was by far the youngest of those present and eager to prove himself.

"Kill the chicken[5]!" - seconded Poyarok, a much older boyar son whose brother Ivan Runo was once one of the Great Prince's closest retainers but since then was disgraced and exiled - probably not without the involvement of Feodor Kuritsyn, who was then on the rise.

"Calmness! Calmness!" - yelled Gusev, overshouting the rest of them and forcing even the impetuous prince to sit back down and sheathe the sword - "Has the Devil possessed you? This is exactly what they expect us to do, thinking us dumb because we are honourable and faithful. Instead, let us act wisely. We must all go quickly to the Great Prince himself. We will gather our servants and allies, all that we could find on such short notice, and arm them; that should be enough to ward off any traitors that would keep us away from our beloved Sovereign when he is ill. Then we shall ask him to declare the Princeling Vasily his co-regnant; doubtless he will not refuse, for Vasily has come of age and will now be required to take reins of power anyway so that the Great Prince is not overtly burdened. Then we shall go to the Princeling..."

And he continued to speak for some time amidst awed silence, describing how Vasily will listen to their wise and faithful advice and clean the Court of all heretics, sycophants and chrysophilites, and will execute them all and distribute his lands among the local servants gathered here today, and throughout this long-planned speech Gusev could not help but think the same dark thought that harried him since last evening, when he had first learned of the Great Prince's illness. Something was about to go wrong. Any moment now... and if not now, then when? And so he kept talking more and more loudly and bravely to quiet out the fear.

Most listened and looked on with a respectful sort of awe; but others seemed taken aback and listened with their mouths open. As Gusev's speech was getting to an end, one of them finally recovered and asked: "But is this not treason?"

"What?! What do you mean?" - asked Gusev.

"Are we not planning to march an armed crowd into the palace?" - quickly inquired the red-haired man from before - "Shall we not kill all that might try to stop us from seizing the Kremlin as traitors?" - he continued more and more boldly, standing up and looking into Gusev's eyes - "Is that not rebellion, you damned goose?! If not, then what is it exactly that you are trying to trick us into doing?"

But the others did not appreciate his wit.

"Seize him!" - shouted Poyarok; the Prince Khrul Palatsky and some others made towards the upstart, grabbing his hands.

"If I mean to rise up against anything then it is only against treason, lies and injustice," - declared Gusev - "But who the Devil are you?!"

And it was then that everyone realised that nobody here at all knew this man.

"A spy!" - shouted Prince Khrul Palatsky and hit the spy in the guts. The red-haired man cringed but persevered. The others begun either to glare menacingly approach the captive or to shudder and discretely, distrustingly look at each other. Who else has snuck in here?..

"Who sent you?" - asked Gusev abruptly, making towards the spy.

Suddenly, everyone heard the noise of running boots against the roughly-cut stones and hoarse shouts outside.

One of the voices drew near; it was giving orders to the men. The loud deep voice mockingly inquired: "Dear master Gusev, are you there?" Gusev cursed and drew his own well-hidden sabre, putting it to the red-haired man's throat

"The city watch!" - gasped one of the men inside. A panic spread. Two of the men holding the spy saw fit to try and run instead, trying to find some place to hide; the spy stopped squirming, took out his knife and stabbed Prince Khrul Palatsky in the arm, causing the Prince, shocked as much with this man's rudeness as with the blow and the sudden turn of events, to let go of him. Gusev rushed after the escaping spy, and swung his sabre cutting through the man's kaftan and leaving a scar on his back, but at this point the wooden door shattered into pieces under the blows of an axe and watchmen with halberds began to run in.

Gusev cursed again, much more loudly, turned around leaving the spy be and said: "We have been betrayed. Let us die with honour instead of dying on the Trade Square before the jeering scum!"

Some heeded him, but most either dropped their weapons or tried to escape through the servant entrances - only to find that the watchmen had covered them as well. Gusev hacked wildly, as none could have expected of a scribe, and cut down two halberdiers; but the third chopped his right hand clean off and before long he was taken. His last thoughts before fainting were about Feodor Kuritsyn, and how the old man outlasted him and their rivalry; but, indeed, just how did he do it; who betrayed them; why... And then all was black.

The commander of the watchmen, who had received special orders and a truly incredible advance payment from Feodor Kuritsyn, stayed behind with a few trusted men while the others led the arrested conspirators and some of their host's shinier possessions away. They swept through the large house and grabbed every piece of paper they found, averting their eyes from them since Feodor Kuritsyn was a wizard and would have eventually punished them had they looked.

Meanwhile, the red-haired man made his way towards an inn, and a few hours later snuck into the Kremlin, to the terem of Feodor Kuritsyn. He delivered his report, was richly paid and promised a good rank if he continues to prove himself in the future. His name was Demyan Ryzhiy.

---

A few days later, the Great Prince, who had recovered slightly, was visited at his bed by Feodor Kuritsyn, Prince Ivan Patrikeyev and Gennadiy Gonzov, the former archbishop of Novgorod who, as all at the court had already heard by then, was to become the new Metropolitan within the month. There were many rumours as to how and why, and also about the sudden brutal attack and arrest of Vladimir Gusev and two dozens of other poorer nobles; a lot of things became apparent when Gennadiy accompanied his archenemy Feodor Kuritsyn, and they seemed as friends who had not seen each other for long, politely chating about various philosophical matters which many thought was code. Anyway, somehow they had become allies; and now everyone wanted to figure out whether Gennadiy betrayed Sofiya or Feodor betrayed Elena so that they themselves would know whom they ought to call the rightful heir.

"Gusev remains silent," - said Feodor to the Great Prince.

"Fair enough. Has Sofiya..."

"She has done nothing; she is hiding in her house and so is Your son."

"Good! You have opened my eyes. I... We shall have them and their followers exiled to the Lower Novgorod. Their intrigues and connivance have become impossible to tolerate or ignore..." - Ioann had a coughing fit, then resumed talking again, with some difficulty - "To think that Vasily would try and overthrow me, and would use such scum for it too... He is as a mad horse! Unfit to inherit Our patrimony."

Feodor nodded reservedly.

"Indeed, Our son's son should reign instead; the Princeling Dmitriy, ably advised by his mother and, ofcourse, by yourself," - Ioann smiled bitterly, breathing heavily - "And by the Metropolitan Gennadius, your good old friend, and your... mutual... allies. Clearly, Dimka has no one else to turn to! And neither do I!" - he began coughing again - "Between the two of you you have driven away or killed everyone else..."

"Did they not deserve it, Great Prince?" - quietly inquired the Prince Patrikeyev.

"Ofcourse they did! That is why I ordered it all, as soon as I heard of it! But is it not wonderful," - Ioann continued between coughs - "How... you and Gennadiy... have settled your differences... for the good of..."

Then he coughed some more and fell silent. The three stood before the Great Prince's bed; they were immobile and expectant.

"What are you waiting for?" - suddenly asked Ioann, opening his eyes and no longer sounding so sick or so senile - "Feodor, you are a dyak. A scribe. Start writing the edicts. My grandson must inherit if I am finally to die; all that would oppose him should be exiled or killed before I die myself, and you three and the Duma princes shall then help him reign. My brothers... must be finished off first, ofcourse. The whole of the patrimony must go to the seed... of my seed... Why are you still here? Go away! Let me rest in peace, you know what to do now anyway!"

The three solemnly stated their assent, bowed and complied.

---1500---

Once upon a time in the great Russian land there lived the Great Prince Ioann; it so happened that he fell ill and his grandson Dmitriy became his co-regnant, but as he was still but a young lad, five of the greatest boyars and advisors of the Great Prince saw fit to become his caretakers for the duration of his minority, and formed the Council of Caretakers: they were Feodor Kuritsyn the dyak, Gennadiy the Metropolitan of Kiev and the Entire Rus, the Prince Ivan Yuryevich Patrikeyev-Gvozd, the Prince Aleksandr Vasilyevich Obolenskiy and the boyar Yuri Zakharyevich Koshkin-Zakharyin who was governor in Novgorod, and they ruled in the name of the Sovereign without gathering the rest of the Duma, saying that there is no need for a dozen when five will do and that they are all guided by their common faith in God and loyalty to the Great Prince and his heir's best interests. Therefore the first thing they did was torture and execute Gusev and all those seized with him, the second was to exile Sofiya Fominichna and all of the Great Prince's surviving sons to Nizhniy Novgorod under close guard, and the third was to call all the boyars and princes to swear allegiance to Dmitriy the Grandson. Andrey of Uglich came with his sons and Boris of Volotsk came with his sons, and they all swore allegiance and were immediately accused of conspiring with Gusev, overwhelmed and seized by the palace guards and thrown in the dungeon.

Evil tongues among the rabble claimed that the Council of Caretakers was merely an alliance of the highest and greediest boyars who sought to rule by themselves without listening to the Great Prince or the Duma, and to destroy all their enemies between them for the best interests of Dmitriy the Grandson, whom some said was dumb and hideously malformed and some said was an impostor or a bastard of Feodor Kuritsyn, who had been frequenting the house of Elena the Wallachian for a long while now. To be fair, evil tongues amongst the boyars were more refined but equally slanderous and acrimonious. They also added that the Council of Caretakers was not even that united, which was the only reason many of its enemies had so far avoided being destroyed. They claimed that Feodor Kuritsyn still quarreled with the Metropolitan Gennadius, and that Yuri Zakharyevich Koshkin-Zakharyin was still on bad terms with all the Princes Patrikeyevy. But surely this was slander: Feodor and Gennadius met often and their meetings were followed by new edicts against heretics and the non-possessors, and Yuri Zakharyevich had eagerly left Novgorod to the distinguished Prince Daniil Schenya Patrikeyev after asking the Princeling to do so.

But who knows? Perhaps they did quarrel; perhaps they did constantly seethe and make plans against each other. But in public they and their many allies - practically the entire Court rushed to declare themselves their allies, especially those who suspected that they might accidentaly have been their enemies - were unity itself.

For Moscow was being studied by greedy eyes from abroad, the Latin Pope and the Lithuanian Prince, the Livonian Grandmaster and the Swedish Thief, and khans all over the steppe. They were waiting for an opportunity to strike.

For Sofiya Fominichna and her sons and her Greeks and her remaining courtiers were bitterly seething in Nizhniy Novgorod, and would not forgive their betrayal by Gennadius, and were only waiting for an opening, some dispute among the five men who now reigned over the Russian lnd.

For throughout this Russian land there were disgruntled noble Rurikid governors who did not wish to obey dyaks and Gediminid princes, and who perhaps lost distant relatives or at least close acquintances when Gusev was punished; and there were also the boyars of the Court of Tver, or the Court of Volotsk, or the Court of Uglich, who had lost their princes and their courts and everything, and now could not recover because a Court career could not be made without the consent of the Caretaker Council; and there were impoverished, nearly landless princes, boyars and boyar children who have for years been waiting for their patron in Moscow to bestow upon them plentiful and profitable lands, and now were disappointed and desperate and took to raiding villages and small towns and gathering into larger and larger bands; and the peasants they ruined and forced into fleeing also became bandits, and some left to join the Cossacks but most preffered to try their luck on Muscovite land.

And so people wandered, raided, listened, looked and seethed, and all they were waiting for was a sign from above.

And therefore the Caretakers could not afford to quarrel if they were to survive, to say nothing of saving the country from thieves, foreigners and heretics, and reforging it anew to clean it of injustice, bitterness and division, as Feodor Kuritsyn had urged the men who eventually agreed to ally with him after he had failed to destroy Gennadiy Gonzov, who, truth be told, ofcourse was and remained his bitter enemy, but happened to have more bitter enemies still, as well as his own plans for saving and remaking the Church, which were better executed from the Metropolitan's Chair. And so it was with the others.

In the later months of the year seven thousand and eight, it so happened that the Great Prince Ioann arose from his bed, almost as though healthy, and retook power, though the Caretaker Council was not disbanded. He gathered the Duma and planned many new great things with them, and the entire Russian land anticipated his new decrees with baited breath.

And then it so happened a week later that the Great Prince Ioann rapidly fell ill again and died, and now truly no man at the Court or elsewhere knew what would happen.

---

[1] OMD Red Square.

[2] An isolated backwoods (often literally) monastic cloister.

[3] Large ordinarily wooden dwelling.

[4] Finland.

[5] Kuritsa is Russian for "chicken". Gus is "goose", by the way.

From: Ashikaga Yoshizumi-shougun of Japan
To: The Ming Emperor, glorious Emperor of all China; Shou Shin of the Kingdom of Ryuukyuu

We share His Majesty the Ming Emperor's view of and concerns about the wokou, and fully wish to cooperate with both China and Ryuukyuu in supressing them. Unfortunately, the current situation in Japan is less than stellar, and there is not much the Japanese Bakufu can do at this time. Thus, Japan is seeking external assistance in dealing with the wokou, and by extension, the daimyou that consider themselves not held accountable to any higher authority for their actions. The Bakufu is willing to allow any degree of foreign aid, including Chinese troops sent as a peacekeeping force - provided that the Chinese government has no intention of taking or holding any territory in the Japanese islands on a long-term basis. In return, Japan wishes to become a strong trading partner of both China and Ryuukyuu as soon as this crisis is over.
The Bakufu understands that the His Majesty the Ming Emperor likely has many other pressing problems of higher priority than helping stabilize a neighbor, but petitions His Majesty to consider our request.

IC:

The House of Lee states that an army of 2000 German Landsknecht and 5 cannons are available to any prospective renters, price upon request.

Briefly rejoining as Naples...

IC:
The Kingdom of Naples reminds the House of Lee that the agreement was to help us take Algiers- as we have not given up yet, you are still obliged to serve.