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**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 08:05

Interlude:

For weeks following the stunning war between Lorraine and Spain, the Royal Court of Paris was all abuzz. What had prompted such bold and unexpected action from Lorraine? How had the tiny nation accomplished such a stunning victory? Suddenly, King Rene was something of a celebrity and very much in demand in Paris. He was invited personally by the King of France to a dinner held in his honor, but given the fragile (nay, broken would be the better word) condition of his now greatly expanded realm, he politely declined the invitation, sending me in his stead so he could personally attend to the needs of his People.

That’s just the sort of man he was. (Politely) turning down the greatest King in our alliance to spend time looking after the peasants in his realm. Soothing their fears (and with all the troubling talk about the national treasury having been utterly depleted to pull off our astonishing victory over the Spaniards, there were a great many fears to be soothed).

I went of course, and explained all to the King of France, who could not very well have looked down upon the man who, despite impossible odds, bested the Spaniards on the field of battle and came away with two prize provinces as spoils of war, and so the King of Lorraine was given a certain amount of latitude at Court, and easily forgiven for declining the dinner invitation.

It was just as well that he didn’t attend, actually. The word most commonly used to describe our nation now suddenly thrust into the spotlight was “plucky,” as in:

“…those plucky men of Lorraine certainly handed the Spaniards their collective arses!”
and,
“….who would have thought that the plucky little Kingdom of Lorraine would have been up to the task.”

Of course, I didn’t mention that particular word to the King upon my return to Lorraine. I merely passed along the collective word from our allies that they were grateful to Lorraine for her service to the alliance, and immeasurably proud of the way in which we acquitted ourselves in the war with Spain.

The problem with our first success was that everyone in the alliance (including our French masters) essentially regarded it as a fluke. Something we’d be hard pressed to do again, and although the dinner conversation was unfailingly polite, I detected a somewhat disturbing undercurrent.

Privately, people were saying that Lorraine could never hope to hold her new lands against the Spaniards. The loss of Flandres was not something they’d simply take lying down, and that peace was offered in order to give the Spanish time to recover from the surprise, regroup and recruit. Once they did, the thinking went, they’d simply seize the territory lost and crush all of Lorraine’s aspirations for greatness.

That angered me, for unbeknownst to all present, I had been the one who orchestrated the whole affair, and it spoke ill of my abilities.

It hadn’t been a fluke, and if the need arose, we really COULD do it again.

Couldn’t we?

So long as our alliance with France remained firm, could not the same basic strategy be used again to further our hold on the low country, and further diminish Spanish presence in the region?

Or perhaps I was just deluding myself.

Nonetheless, I danced the delicate dance of politics at the Court of France, graciously accepted the praise for our performance in the war with Spain, and drank the French King’s wine, all the while trying my best to keep the swirl of unsettling thoughts which swam through my head from showing on my face, lest any of our Peers of the Realm read that as a sign that their privately-made comments might be well-founded.

Hindsight.

A marvelous thing, really.

And looking back on that evening at Court, it strikes me as almost funny, for no one present that evening could ever have guessed that the winds of war would blow again soon….much sooner than any expected, in fact. And when they did, the tiny nation of Lorraine would be called upon to not only defend her new holdings, but to repeat her earlier stunning victories against Spain. And where our early battles had been won with the element of surprise firmly on our side, the next war would bring us face to face with an enemy who knew us and our tactics well. An enemy with vengeance in her heart, and bloodshed on her mind.

In short, although we did not know it that evening at Court, Lorraine would soon be all alone in the low country. Alone, and facing the full weight of Spanish fury and military might. It would not be a war fought on our terms and with the intent of increasing our lands, but a war for the very survival of our tiny nation, and it would tax the nation’s courage and resolve like nothing that had come before it, and, save for one other event in Lorraine’s history, like nothing since.

All alone in the crowded Court Chamber of Paris, I drank, and thought.

And worried.

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 08:08

Something wicked this way comes....

On the way back from the Court of Paris, still half drunk on French wine, I had the good fortune to meet up with Prince Antoine II, eldest son of the King, who was in between school terms in Paris, on leave for a month, and bound for Lorraine to visit his father and perhaps take part in a hunt or three.

Quite a charming young man, actually, despite his stoic countenance, square jaw, and deep set, penetrating eyes (which, as I understand it, a number of the Ladies of Paris are quite taken with). He’ll make a good King someday, but let me be quick to say that I hope his time is quite some years off. His father is a good man, and good men are in short supply. I wish him nothing but a long and happy life, and a peaceful reign.

But I digress.

Riding through the countryside with the young Prince, laughing and hearing tales of his (numerous) exploits in Paris….those were the last happy memories I was to have for quite some time….

OoO

Despite having begun in victory, the Year of our Lord 1494 was a bad, troubling year for Lorraine. Besides the aforementioned Peace (which really WAS stunning), not much good came of the year. In fact, we spent much of the time fighting to keep our hard-won gains from falling into rebel hands. The talk at the Court of Paris may have been mostly upbeat amazement, but the sad truth of the matter was that Lorraine paid a steep price indeed for her victory over the cursed Spaniards. The treasury empty, the peasants unhappy, and the army exhausted. That the Army of Lorraine found itself constantly embroiled in skirmishes with rebellious peasants only added to that exhaustion.

After the peace, it was determined that the entire Army of Lorraine would remain in Flandres, under the command of the hero of our war with the Spaniards, Colonel Jaeger (who was promoted to General shortly after the peace with Spain was signed). It fell to me then, to fashion a new army for us to defend Lux and Lorraine, so I went back to the moneylenders, who were none too pleased to see me again, secured financing, and recruited 4000/2000/20, with a plan to move them to Lux when they were trained.

In March, 12,000 peasants revolted in Lux and laid siege to the city. The troops (assigned to General Huber—who was also promoted for his performance against the army of Pfalz), and the good general was dispatched to deal with the peasant uprising.

The battle lasted the better part of April, and ended in victory for Huber, but his men performed their duties in lackluster fashion, and he wound up losing almost half his new army, so more were recruited, and additional loans were secured to increase the fortifications of all our territories. Fearing eventual Spanish retribution, that seemed a wise enough course.

Of course, it also meant that we were heading for another financial disaster, as we could not pay for the massive loans we had taken out.

I only hoped that my membership in the Order, and the sight of my sigil ring would be sufficient to persuade the moneylenders to continue to work with me, despite my/Lorraine’s poor repayment history. After all, we were fashioning an Empire. That took money and time. We had the time….they had the money. It was a perfect marriage (from my perspective, at any rate).

In June, Jaeger’s army came under attack by some 34,000 unruly peasants. He beat them off, and he did it more quickly than Huber had been able to, but the losses were staggering. The problem was that we were forced into a position of having to stand and fight toe to toe….something we had been able to mostly avoid with the Spanish.

But we were victorious, and we endured, hoping for an extended period of peace, so we could build and grow strong.

Ahhh, and I nearly forgot! Also in June, our engineers (both of them!), came to me and announced that they had studied some French-made transports, and could duplicate their construction (Naval Tech 1). Since we now had a port, that was actually quite relevant, and they were wholeheartedly congratulated (though, in looking back on it, had things not worked out as they did…had we ended the war with Spain and NOT had a port available to us, I suspect that the poor engineers would have been flogged in public for wasting our scarce money researching shipbuilding techniques).

In July, we received a report from the Court of Paris that the mighty nation of Poland had declared against the brave Knights of the Teutonic Order. We prayed for them, because we knew well the situation they were in….a tiny nation standing against a vast one.

And then we said prayers for ourselves, as yet more peasants rose up in Lux (July 1), forcing Huber to fight another protracted battle. Again, he was victorious, but again….a costly fight. After having witnessed our Army’s splendid performance against the cursed Spaniards, seeing these half-hearted “Battle-Sloths” in action filled me with equal measures of scorn and heartache, but then, it was my own policies that had brought us to this, and I was shamed.

I had reduced the Army of Lorraine to little more than the peasant rabble they fought.

A disturbing thought indeed, and I vowed to rebuild it into the sort of fighting force I knew it could be.

I retraced all my steps. Went over every aspect of the plan in my mind.

There was nothing. Nothing at all I would have, or COULD have done differently. Lorraine was on the verge of greatness because of the plans set in motion by the King and I, and if the Army suffered a bit in the short run….well, we’d just have to make the gains worthwhile, that was all.

And I took a measure of comfort in that.

Not much, mind you…but some.

Still, the fact remained that many more “victories” like the ones we suffered through in 1494 and we’d be hard pressed to field an army at all.

August 15th, 1494
Our mighty allies the French declare war on England. We momentarily fear that honoring this alliance will bring us back into the fight with Spain much before we are ready, but then we learn from the French diplomat that England could not stomach being in the same alliance with their long-standing enemies the Scots, and so left the Spanish fold, and were now alone in Europe. I admired France’s timing, and we supported the war, in spirit if not in body.

September 6th, 1494
France lays siege to Calais with an army numbering some 17,000 men, and, in an upset victory that surely shocked the arrogant English, a fleet of 6 French warships succeeded in driving off 21 English ships. We watched from the sidelines and quietly cheered. Good news was good news. We just found ourselves wishing that we had more in Lorraine.

And then, the worst happened.

A Courier arrived in Lorraine bearing official dispatches and a summons, ordering me to attend Court in Paris in the name of the Alliance.

Apparently, a crisis was brewing.

With storm clouds gathering in the sky above us (somehow adding both weight and urgency to whatever crisis awaited my attention in Paris), I said goodbye to the King, and with great reluctance, made for Paris.

OoO

September 30, 1494
Tensions were running high in the Council Chamber of Paris, where delegates from the French Alliance met with the surly Highlander and a Spanish representative.

The Scot spit on the table, and in the general direction of The Pope’s emissary at the proceedings.

“Satan, I say! Our Clan-Lord has received a vision from God himself! The Pope is but a great pretender! Satan in disguise, and we have been charged with ridding the world of this vermin! Charged by divine revelation!” He unsheathed his massive claymore and with a growl ferocious enough to make a grown man wet himself, the Highlander split the Council table in half.

The French delegate remained uncannily calm. “That then, is your final word on the matter? War between Scotland and the Papal States?”

The Highlander looked at his Spanish counterpart in disgust. “How can you stand to be near these people?” He asked, casting withering glances at us all. “Pah! Yes, you have our answer, the Highlanders will burn Rome to the ground!”

The Papal delegate looked around the room at us, representatives of the allied nations. Waiting expectantly as the tension in the room grew so thick that it was difficult to breathe.

The Frenchman spoke first, as was his right. “Of course, His Holiness may rely on France. We honor the alliance.” He took out his ceremonial dagger as if to thrust it into the tabletop, signifying France’s willingness to go to war, and then, realizing that the table had been dismantled by the massive Highlander, sheathed his dagger in flush-faced silence.

“Si….the men of Savoy likewise honor the alliance. We will fight the heathen Scots.”

“Aye…You may inform His eminence that the men of Brittany stand ready to assist.”

Now all eyes turned to me, and I could not help but notice the bloodthirsty gaze of the Spanish delegate.

What to do?

I sincerely doubted that any Scottish Clan Lord had visions of the Pope-as-the-Agent-of-Satan. The whole affair had a rather contrived smell to it, and my reckoning of the matter was that any such visions had no doubt been bought and paid for with the promise of Spanish gold. Such an outlandish claim that it was almost unbelievable.

And yet, there it was.

Trap. My mind told me. It has to be. And if that were true, then the trap was meant for Lorraine. A convenient excuse to draw her into another war with Spain.

Revenge.

A simple, sweet, time-tested motive.

And, it was a war we were ill-prepared to fight, what with our nation still reeling from the strains of the last war, and the morale of our troops still suffering from continuing rumors that the national treasury had run dry.

What to do indeed?

I met the gaze of my allies one by one (taking a small measure of comfort in the fact that the look on the Frenchman’s face told me that if Lorraine declined this war, we would surely be forgiven and promptly invited back into the alliance), and finally, met the awful gaze of the Spanish delegate. Without breaking eye contact with the Spaniard, and speaking very slowly…clearly, so that there could be no mistaking my words or intent, I said: “Tell His Holiness that he can rely on the men of Lorraine to carry the fight to his enemies. ALL of his enemies.”

The silence that followed was extreme, and I could feel my heart threatening to beat its way out of my chest.

The die was again cast, and Lorraine now faced an angry, prepared Spain, and she faced that enemy with troops who had not the heart for battle.

The meeting was adjourned, and the delegates filed out of the room.

Just as I was leaving, the Spaniard caught my arm and spun me part way around, his hateful eyes boring into mine. I think he might have cut my throat then and there if he hadn’t spied my sigil ring and understood the seal that it bore. Instead he leered and shoved me roughly away from him. “Illuminatus….tell your King that Lorraine will burn and that we’ll use his broken body for pike practice.”

Spanish bravado. I tried telling myself, but I knew better. Spain had the power to make good on that threat. And although bravado had never been my strong suit, I tried gamely just the same, flashing him the most confident smile I could muster. “Aye….I’ll pass the word, and you tell your King not to waste any more of his gold building summer castles in the low country….unless of course he enjoys providing the King of Lorraine with luxury accommodations.”

Okay, okay, so it was less than a stellar comeback, but I already said that bravado was not my strong suit.

The Spaniard chuffed, sneered, and left the room.

I hoped he couldn’t tell or didn’t notice how much I was trembling.

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 08:34

Tooth and nail....

It is important at this point to pause, so that you have some understanding of the disposition of forces we had available to us at the outset of this war. Having that understanding is crucial to understanding what happened during the COURSE of the war, so here’s a quick rundown.

General Jaeger, stationed in Flandres with:
7353/6635/78

General Huber, stationed in Lux with:
3106/858/20

And that’s it. The entire “Army” of Lorraine (after having fought numerous engagements against those tenacious rebels).

With a weak army and a full-blown crisis on our hands, I once more went to the Swiss moneylenders, only to be turned away on sight. It seems that their patience with me had run out, and no amount of flashing my sigil ring before them would bring them ‘round.

Desperate for an alternate source of funding, I sent a dispatch to my home in Bavaria, and arranged a loan from my father, begging him to get in touch with the head of the Order there to arrange a permanent line of credit. I promised to send a full outline of my plans (required, if I wanted the Order to finance my work in Lorraine) as soon as our current crisis had passed.

And, once I had a letter of credit from my father, I proceeded to order the following conscriptions:
Lorraine: 40 Siege Guns/8,000 Cavalry
Lux: 4,000 Infantry
Flandres: 4,000 Infantry

I hoped it would be enough, but my gut told me otherwise.

On October 1st, my spies brought a report that Spain had used the lull between our first war and this one to create a powerful Northern Army for themselves, and that it numbered some 23,000 troops. Based in Artois, word held that it was marching south, apparently heading for Lorraine.

General Jaeger marches immediately for Zeeland, hoping to quickly take the Spanish stronghold there, and then turn his attention southward to Artois. Meanwhile, General Huber marches his command to Brussels and begins laying siege there. Both keep a close eye on the massive Spanish army moving from Artois, and both stand ready to flee, the moment the army appears interested in them.

November 2nd, 1494
Jaeger puts Zeeland under the gun, hoping for a quick victory and siege there.

November 4th, 1492
Huber lays siege to Brussels

November 22nd, 1492
Jaeger spots a second large (19,000+/-) man Spanish army that had apparently been quietly recruited in Friesen. The army is marching straight for Zeeland. In an uncharacteristic panic, Jaeger relinquishes the siege of Zeeland and flees toward Artois, hoping to take up a siege there. In Flandres, the new recruits make for Artois to meet their commander there, and the Lux recruits go to reinforce Huber. The presence of this powerful new army in the region radically changes the equation, and the hope now is that we can simply end our sieges quickly and opt out of the war before any serious damage is done, but if needs be, tentative plans are drawn up which involving combining our forces, and adding Lorraine’s new recruits (if they are ever finished….damn but those siege guns take forever!) and then have enough manpower to fight a stand-up battle with one or the other of the Spanish armies. If we could drive one of the two forces off, maybe…..

November 26th, 1494
Lorraine is besieged by 22,000-odd Spaniards, who, this time, have brought the goods needed to do the job (48 cannon). And, sensing the weakened morale of our defenders, the massive army immediately launches an assault of the castle gate, hoping to take the capitol quickly in a humbling defeat.

December 6th, 1494
Our second war with Spain is about to come to a disastrous end. Neither of our sieges have gained much ground, and the defenders in the castle in Lorraine are panicking. The mighty Spanish force seems unstoppable. The King releases his personal guard, ordering them to help man the walls in a last ditch effort to keep the Spaniards at bay for a little while longer. Lorraine’s ambitions are about to be ground into dust….

The Miracle Victory of Lorraine

Dust covered everything and the walls shook as Spanish artillery brutally and relentlessly assaulted Lorraine’s once lovely castle. The shock wave of this latest barrage was enough to knock me off my feet.

I coughed, stood shakily, and then tried to wave enough of the dust away so that I could see well enough to find my way out of the room.

“Rene….do you live?”

“I do….for the moment.” Came the rumbling reply from the corner. “Though I’d say my chances are not looking so good for tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Aye….and I’d not place my own chances at seeing another sunrise much higher than yours.” We came together in the dust-filled room and I clapped his shoulder fondly. Standing together, we helped each other pick our way around overturned furniture and finally made our way into the main hall.

“Well…you promised me an adventure, My Lord Verje…and we’ve certainly had one….too short, but it was a beautiful thing to see Lorraine’s banner flying over the entrance of Flandres, if only for a while.”

“Any word from Huber or Jaeger? Any chance that they might be able to fight their way back here?”

The King scoffed. “You saw Huber’s twin “victories” in Lux….I don’t think he could fight his way through a flock of Ravens, much less an army of angry Spaniards…and sadly, no word from Jaeger at all. The last report was that some 5,000 Spanish Cavalry was moving toward him from Zeeland, and with no hope of out running them, he determined to hold his ground.”

“Good man.” I said sadly, fearing the worst.

“Aye….and I hope he died a good death, giving those damnable Spaniards the full measure of his courage.”

We were quiet for a moment, and oddly, so were the Spanish guns. A momentary tribute to the hero of our first war.

Jaeger missing and probably dead.

Huber mired in a siege that would not be concluded anytime soon.

Much as I hated it, we were done for.

No hope.

Beaten.

A clanging noise sounded in the main hall just then, and I stepped in front in the King and drew my dagger to protect him from the Spaniards who had apparently breeched the walls, and were intent on carrying out the promise made to me by the Spanish Delegate in the Council Chamber of Paris.

Instead of marauding Spaniards though, it was a dashing, impeccably dressed young Lord, wearing the colors of Lorraine.

“Who in God’s name are….” I began.

“Captain Tandler, reporting for duty sir….where do you want my men deployed?”

“Your…Men?”

“Yes Milord….some months ago, you conscripted and ordered trained 8,000 cavalry along with 40 siege guns. My apologies it took so long, but we had a problem getting enough iron for the….”

I waved him into silence. “You have your force here? Now?”

He nodded, as if to say that leading thousands of men and and almost a hundred bulky siege guns through a Spanish picket line was as easy as picking daises. “Yes milord, they’re admittedly still wet behind the ears, but eager enough to serve.”

“Have you read our Doctrines of War yet, young man?” I asked him (knowing full well that what I was about to ask of him and his men violated pretty much everything IN those now venerable doctrines).

“Not yet milord, but I shall do so at once.”

I shook my head. “No time for that now lad….and….you lead these men?”

“I do milord.”

“Very well, then take your command and report to the main gate. Tell the Captain of the watch to fling the gates wide, and when he does, I want you and yours to pour out of the castle like Satan himself was close at your heels.” I gripped his shoulder and turned him to face me. “Make no mistake about this lad…Lorraine is about to fall. Your attack must succeed….do you understand?”

Young Captain Tandler met my gaze for a lingering moment, looked then to the King, and finally back to me.

“Yes milord, I understand.”

And with that….I sent him to an almost certain death….

OoO

Game notes: I really had forgotten about the troops I had recruited in Lorraine, and in an absolutely STUNNING coincidence in timing, the recruits arrived on the field right in the middle of the Spanish assault on the fortress. Their morale was “breaking,” and mine in the garrison was “panicked.” Of course, when the new recruits arrived, their morale was “breaking” as well, but in spite of that, they actually carried the day! Couldn’t arrange that to happen again in a million years!

OoO

It took me several long moments to fully comprehend the words.

“We…what?” I said dumbly.

“We won!” The Captain of the watch shouted again, clapping me solidly on the shoulders in his glee. “The damnable Spanish are in full retreat! I don’t know who the Lord who leads him….that youngish lad with the plumed hat, but he certainly put the fear in them!”

We won.

Incredible.

The King and I looked at each other in absolute awe and wonder, smiles creeping across our faces.

Oh, we were not deluded. The Spanish force may have been driven off, but they had suffered almost no casualties and they WOULD be returning, but for the second time now, we managed to hand the Spaniards a surprise which cost them time and initiative. At least for the moment, with Lorraine temporarily safe, we had the upper hand, and a measure of breathing room.

I went to find Captain Tandler.

OoO

“….hereby promote you to the title of Lord-General.” King Rene said to the shocked young Lord Tandler, kneeling as the King’s ceremonial sword was passed over him in the sign of the cross. “Arise, Lord Tandler.”

And the young man did.

I went to him, and extended a hand in congratulations. “And now, My Lord Tandler, your next mission.”

He beamed. “The men and I stand ready to serve!”

“Excellent….have you heard of one called General Jaeger?”

“Of course sir! Tales of his exploits and my hopes of topping them are the reasons I joined the army! He’s….”

“Missing.” I finished for him, and watched as the wind was taken from the young man’s sails.

“Missing?”

“And feared dead.”

Now young Tandler looked grim-faced indeed.

“I need you….Lorraine needs you to take your men north to Artois, where Jaeger was last known to be, and discover what has befallen the hero of Lorraine….if the opportunity to avenge his death presents itself, by all means take it, but do not unduly risk your men.”

Tandler nodded, and looked to the ground for a long moment. Then seemed to gather his wits back about him, strode to his horse and called his lieutenants to his side, efficiently preparing to move out….

OoO

December 24th, 1494
Spain’s second Northern army puts Flandres under the gun with an eye toward bringing that province back into the Spanish fold (walls –1).

January 18th, 1495
The Spanish Army that had been caught by surprise, courtesy of young Tandler, recovers its wits and morale, and marches back toward Lorraine. It is caught by a smaller (17k) French army recruited from France’s northern territories and bound for…well, somewhere besides the low country.

The French army has relatively weak morale, and the battle is a short one, but the Spaniards DO take some losses. This cheers us greatly!

January 20th, 1495
Flandres falls to the angry Spanish, who relentlessly assault the defense works there. This bodes ill indeed, as we have still not concluded either of our current sieges, and the full weight of that army (slightly reduced, and now some 14,000 men), begins heading south to Artois.

February 1st, 1495
5,000 Infantry ordered in Lorraine, taking the last of our money. What we’ve got is what we’ve got. We pray it is enough.

February 9th, 1495
The Spanish army that Tandler drove out of Lorraine has returned. Slightly weakened (19,000 men), it is still more than strong enough to end us….

February 16th, 1495
General Tandler
War Diary

The sound of siege cannons firing in concert is unmistakable, which is how we knew that Artois was under siege long before the city actually came into view. So if General Jaeger was truly dead, then at least something remained of his command, and I sent scouts to reconniter north to find out who was there, and how many.

The news was encouraging indeed.

“Looks like they have been in a few scrapes sir, as some of the cannon are not facing the city, but the northern approaches….nevertheless, the camp seems in good order.”

“Very well.” I said (trying to sound authoritative of course!), and we proceeded to ride into the camp of our fellow soldiers.

And what a wonderful sight indeed!

There, in the flesh and QUITE alive and well, was the legendary General Jaeger! It was everything I could do not to hop off my horse and run up to him, asking for an autograph or some small token to mark the occasion, but remembering my command and my men, I resisted the urge to do so, satisfying myself with a nod and a curt salute to him.

“General Tandler reporting with reinforcements, Sir!” I said in my most authoritative voice.

Jaeger smiled, and then laughed a good natured laugh. “And glad to have them! I saw signal fires north of here last night, so I assume that Flandres has fallen and the Spanish army on the move?”

“It is so, My Lord General.” I told him.

“Heading?”

“Here.”

General Jaeger smiled again, and rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “How many men did you say you brought with you?”

OoO

February 26th, 1495
Generals Jaeger and Tandler are attacked in Artois in an attempt to break our siege there. The battle rages for nearly three weeks, and ends in a crushing defeat for Spain. For our part, Jaeger loses more than half his infantry, several guns, and Tandler’s cavalry contingent loses about a thousand men. Nonetheless, it is a stunning performance by our army, though it pains me that we were forced to stand and fight. The Spaniards see their force dwindle from 14,000 to less than 6,000 and fall back to Zeeland in disgrace. Two days after defeating the Spaniards in the field, the defense works in Artois crumble. The city is ours!

March 1st, 1495
A large (36,000(!)) force of rebels rise up and seize the city of Flandres…the only good thing about that is the fact that it’s no longer flying the Spanish flag, but we lack the manpower or the will to deal with them at present. Well enough that the city is no longer in Spanish hands. Jaeger and Tandler are on the move, chasing the broken Spanish army to Zeeland with plans to begin a siege there.

March 21st, 1495
The Spanish are once again laying siege to Lorraine, but their numbers have been thinned sufficiently that they dare not risk an assault on us just yet….we pray that our troops in the field can bring an end to this madness before it comes to that.

March 29th, 1495
Tandler arrives in Zeeland ahead of Jaeger and gives battle to the fleeing Spaniards. They are handed a brutal defeat at the hands of the young Cavalry Officer, reduced to a mere 2000 ragged souls. The Spanish “army” flees toward Lux, and Tandler holds in Zeeland to await the arrival of Jaeger and the guns.

May 4th, 1495
At last! Huber’s smallish command has captured Brussels! He marches to Zeeland to link up with the rest of our forces. Lorraine’s walls are holding firm for the moment (-1).

May 8th, 1495
The last survivors of the once proud Spanish army that took Flandres from us (2k), arrives and holds in Lux, lacking the manpower to even lay siege. We keep an eye on them, but do nothing at present.

June 5th, 1495
It has become a war of pure attrition. Lorraine’s walls are at –3, Zeeland’s at –5 (minimally fortified…thank GOD!). Our hope is to capture the province, and then sue for peace.

July 8th, 1495
They said it was a fluke. They said Lorraine could not repeat her earlier performance against the might of Spain. That the near-endless supplies of Spanish gold and steel would snuff out the rising star of our tiny country.

Worse, they called us “plucky.”

No more.

Zeeland’s defenses fold on July 8th, and I ride out personally to meet the Spanish ambassador…..

OoO

“…we did not start this fight.” I explained simply, gesturing in the general direction of the map. “It was Spanish arrogance and the desire for revenge that sparked this war, and we demand satisfaction.”

“And what, pray tell, do you have in mind, upstart?” The Spaniard asked us scornfully.

“Brussels and Artois for peace.” I said gamely. “We shall return Zeeland to your possession at once.”

The Spaniard chuffed and snorted at our offer. “The walls of your capitol are crumbling around you. Look! Fires burn uncontrolled in Lorraine, and where is your army? Weeks from here! There will be no peace on these terms.”

He rose to leave.

Thunder rolled, but there were no clouds in the sky.

The Spanish Ambassador looked at us questioningly.

I shrugged. In truth, I had no more idea what was causing the sound than he did.

A few moments later, however, I had my answer. On the horizon, breaking the top of a low rise in the land were horses. Lots of horses. And at their head, the unmistakable plume of Lord-General Tandler, of the Royal Cavalry of Lorraine.

I broke into a grin and turned toward the flabbergasted Spaniard.

“You were saying?”

He bowed his head for a long moment, and then looked up again to survey the long columns of Lorrainean horse troops swiftly moving toward us.

“We accept the terms of peace.” He said glumly.

Victory.

Again.

Lorraine had truly arrived, and with that arrival, despite the impossibly long odds against it, she somehow managed to strip Spain of fully half her territories in the low country….

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 08:43

All we are sayin'....is give peace a chance....

Castille

The wiry Spaniard had no name, or if he had one, he kept it well-hid. A grim secret.

Even the King knew him only as “El Gran Capitan,” and he was among the most greatly feared Field Marshals in all of Spain.

He stalked into the Throne Room of Castille like a caged tiger….edgy, restless. Uncomfortable with the finery that surrounded him now, he was clearly a man born for war.

Also, he didn’t like to be kept waiting, even by a King.

Even by the greatest King in all of Europe.

He fidgeted, toying impatiently with the patch over his left eye.

The minutes passed slowly.

Agonizing.

And just when he thought he might scream, the main doors to the chamber opened, and the King of Spain glided into the room.

“Ahhh….the bold War Captain. Excellent.”

El Capitan scowled in reply, and turned to face the King. “Why was I pulled away from the siege of Compte?” He demanded. “Two weeks more, and it would have been back in our hands!”

“I have need of your skills and services elsewhere.” The King said simply, and raised a hand to silence his deadly General before he could even voice his next question. “No….you’re not being reassigned to some distant outpost because of the rumors of butchery and torture. Quite to the contrary, in fact….Of course, I cannot publicly condone such acts of barbarism, but I DO see their value in dealing with…shall we say….certain unruly populations.”

The General grinned a toothy, wolfish grin and appeared to relax slightly. “And where shall I put my skills to use for the King?”

“Have you heard of the arrogant upstarts in the Lands of Lorraine?”

“I have.”

“Twice now, they have humiliated our armies in the Low Countries. They have robbed of us Flandres….initially I considered them to be little more than a thorn in the mighty side of Spain, but with this latest defeat, I fear they have become a genuine threat. We have lost fully half our territories in the region. This must be stopped. They must be dealt with decisively, and I think you are the perfect man for the job.”

The General said nothing, and the King regarded him carefully for a moment.

“So…you will be given a free hand in the Low Countries. Treat it as your own private playground. I will personally ensure that you are given sufficient funds to raise however many troops it takes to drive the upstarts entirely from the Low Countries, and then to lay waste to their capitol in Lorraine. I want them gone! Lorraine is to be but a memory in Europe.”

Again, that frightening, wolfish grin. “Consider it done, Majesty.”

El Gran Capitan stalked out of the room.

OoO

After the second peace with Spain was signed, the King of France did something unprecedented in Europe at the time. He went to Lorraine to honor King Rene, rather than summoning Rene to the Court of Paris.

On August 1st, 1495, the King of France arrived in Lorraine with his honor guard and delegates from all the other members of the French Alliance to give King Rene honorary titles befitting his deeds. From that day forward, he was to be known as the “Lion of Lorraine, and Defender of the Low Countries.” Additionally, he was also given a 300 acre estate in Dauphine, a golden statue, hand crafted by the talented artisans in Brittany, a case of the finest wine in Savoie, and an exquisite statue of the Virgin Mother from Rome.

And although the Great Hall of Lorraine was nowhere near as grand as the one in Paris, it was positively humming…buzzing…alive with activity, and the revelry that followed our second victory against the Spanish lasted for nearly a month.

Of course, there were still a great many details to attend to, and because the King of France had come personally to Lorraine, Rene could not very well ignore him, and so while he entertained his guests, I was charged with the task of putting the country back together.

The first order of business was to combine our forces and route the rebels currently holding Flandres. This was accomplished by September 20th of that year (1495). After that, it fell to me to prepare the country for yet another bankruptcy. My only hope was that this time, we will find ourselves with a sufficiently long period of peace to recover from the terrible strains that the back-to-back confrontations with Spain put our nation under.

After the rebellion in Flandres was put down, I busied myself with the task of stabilizing the country.

October 3rd, 1495
Dark news indeed. After signing our peace with the Spaniards, the remnants of their armies (totalling some 17,000) march to Zeeland under a flag of truce. We hear word that conscription is currently underway there, and worse, in early October, my spies report to me that the Army of the North is under the command of one of the most feared of all the Spanish Generals….a man known only as “El Gran Capitan.”

His reputation for brutality preceded him, and a great fear swept over all of Lorraine.

OoO

A knocking at my bedchamber door interrupted my thoughts.

“Yes?”

“My Lord Verje?” The King called out. “Do you have a moment?”

I was too wound up to sleep, and hadn’t even gotten myself ready for bed. When I opened the door, I found the King must have been suffering from the same affliction.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He admitted.

“Nor I.”

“I….I raided the pantry and put some food out in the War Room.”

I considered for half a moment and then clapped my friend, the King on the shoulder. “I think a midnight snack might be just the thing.”

And we headed for the War Room.

OoO

“So…what should we do about the new Spanish Commander in the north?”

I sighed and shook my head. “For the moment, I think nothing….Lorraine is reeling from back-to-back wars….what we need is a period of extended peace to sort ourselves out. We’ve grown big enough now that we can stand on our own once we get out from under this crushing bankruptcy I’ve thrust upon us.”

The King nodded. “Yes well, it was thanks to you and your bold financial policies that we are where we are. Without your sources of financing, we would not have been able to afford the number of troops needed to carry the day.”

“That may be….I only worry that it wasn’t too much, too quickly.” We’ve done so well and come so far, but make no mistake….one single misstep at this point could undo everything we’ve worked for. In many ways, we’re more vulnerable now than ever. Our people are war-weary, and we’re still technically at war with a great many nations. Though they are far-off, and the chances are slim that they would attempt to press their claim, they might, and if they do, we are certainly in no condition to fight them.”

An extended silence passed between the King and I.

Rene reached for a wedge of cheese and chewed thoughtfully. “The upshot though, is that our expansion thus far has completely blocked further French expansion in the north. With Lux, Artois, and Flandres under our banner, the French must look elsewhere….exactly as you originally outlined.”

“Indeed…and that will be crucial later on.”

“When we….”

“Exactly.” I said with a smile. “But not yet….the Spanish still have a strong presence in the Low Countries, and until they are gone entirely, we are in a position of relative weakness. Once they are gone though, we can dictate terms to our Germanic neighbors, and eventually form our own alliance, turning many of them into vassals of Lorraine.”

“Yes, I meant to ask you about that part of the plan before. As it stands, the Germanic states are all allied to each other and are collectively more than a match for Lorraine….even a Lorraine in full control of the Low Countries. How can you be so sure that their alliance will come apart, giving us the opening needed to begin crafting an alliance with them?”

I smiled. “Because, my friend, the Bavarian Illuminati is not unlike a many-tentacled Kraken, and we have plans in motion all over Europe…” A part of me was reluctant to continue, but he had become a trusted friend, and so I indulged his curiosity (even though I would surely have been killed for the indiscretion had another Illuminatus been present). “You see….we have been closely following the life of one known as Martin Luther….quietly guiding and directing him toward a destiny he might not otherwise fulfill….”

OoO

Blessedly, peace reigned.

The Highlanders never did burn Rome. In fact (and further evidence that the entire thing had been a ploy on the part of Spain), less than six months after our peace with the Spaniards had been signed, the Spanish and French allies settled into an uneasy truce.

No armies moved to attack us, and although there were sporadic riots, we kept our army strong enough to deal with the threats as they arose, working quietly, steadily, to pull ourselves out from under the crushing weight of national bankruptcy.

During the period from September 1494 to July 1498, we grew carefully, and in measured steps. Adding to our army when we could, promoting tax collectors in our various provinces, and building fortresses in both Brussels and Artois. We also spent a great deal of time and effort expanding our trade interests, ensuring we kept at least three merchants in operation in Flandres, Paris, Genoa, and Venice.

Stability returned to the land, and our treasury, while not precisely overflowing, was nonetheless somewhat replenished.

I doubt we will ever become much of a sea-faring people, but during this time, we DID construct the beginnings of a Navy….two warships and a like number of transports, whose main job it was to scout the territories of Friesen, Holland, and The Hague to keep track of Spanish recruitment there.

Their findings were disturbing, but as long as the peace held, we were content with that. Nevertheless, we knew that before many years would pass, something would have to be done to deal with the Spanish Army of the North and its dreadful leader. That the Spaniards had fielded fully 60,000 men in the north (32k in Zeeland, 20k in Holland, 8k in The Hague) did not go unnoticed, and occasionally, questions would arise in the Court of Paris. Questions about how the men of Lorraine would deal with this looming threat.

This time, however, when such questions were raised…when speculation ran rampant through the Court of Paris, the most frequent speculation was not “how would Lorraine survive,” but “how Lorraine would manage to defeat them.” Our twin victories over the Spaniards had earned us the deep respect of our allies, and that lifted my heart like few things could have.

Even though when I contemplated our enemies to the north, I had no idea how we could ever hope to stand against such a foe and privately worried that El Capitan might wind up being our undoing….

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 09:21

Sucker punches....

Once more, a crisis in the Alliance of Paris.

I had ridden all night. Sleep in my eyes, drenched by a cold rain that seemed almost to follow me.

Chilled by the rumors I had heard.

The footman met me at the gate and reined in my horse. I knew very well that the servants in an important household were oftentimes among the best informed men and women in all the land, and so as I dismounted, I looked him squarely in the eye.

“Are the rumors true?”

The footman looked away…jaw set hard.

I grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Damnit man…are the rumors true or no?”

Slowly, he faced me again, and nodded. “Oui….the men of Savoie have thrust a dagger into the heart of the alliance. They now fight for Spain.”

It could not be.

Was there no end to the flow of Spanish gold? No low that the Spanish King would not stoop to?

I wondered how much gold and how many promises it had taken to woo the men of Savoie from the French.

Worse, I saw absolutely no way of keeping Lorraine out of the almost inevitable war that now loomed….

OoO

July 3, 1498
Savoie cuts ties with France, makes an alliance with Spain, and immediately declares war on the Papal States. Milan, Scotland, Spain, and Naples all join in that fight. Lorraine, France, and Brittany all declare for the Pope. Sadly, we are still suffering under the effects of bankruptcy, and so are once again ill-prepared for battle with the massive Spanish Northern Army.

OoO

The army of Lorraine, having gathered in Brussels, numbers: 18,456/9632/142, and is positively DWARFED by the army of Zeeland and nearby reinforcements of Spain.

The day that war is declared, the main body of Spaniards moves on Flandres. Our army waits nearly three weeks before marching on Zeeland. We have a plan….

OoO

Lord-General Jaeger stood before the Army of Lorraine and addressed the men.

“As you all know, we’ve less than a third of the total forces that the Spaniards have available to them in the Low Countries….now, a lot of people in our alliance have been talking about the battle that looms between Lorraine and the Spanish, and I’m here to tell you that the battle they’re talking about will not happen this time.”

Silence from the ranks.

“We are NOT to engage the enemy in the field. That is final. Our objective…our ONLY objective is to fly to Zeeland, lay siege to the place, capture it cleanly, and sue for peace….we’re simply not yet ready to take on the main body of the Spanish forces in the region, and because of that, we must preserve the Army of Lorraine at all costs. Therefore, it falls to each of you to do your part. Be watchful of approaching Spaniards. Keep your wits about you. One quick siege….in and back out, and we’re retiring from the field…..be safe.”

There were murmurs and nods of agreement from the ranks, and General Jaeger stepped down from the hastily assembled podium.

Lord-General Tandler leaned in close to him and whispered, “Think we can pull off another miracle?”

“We’d better be able to….else the Army of Lorraine is lost.”

The younger man nodded in agreement, his mind already turning toward the task ahead.

August 8th, 1498
Flandres comes under siege as El Gran Capitan unleashes some of his fury on us.

August 11, 1498
Zeeland comes under siege (still minimally fortified). Walls immediately go to -1, and in a desperate gamble, we launch an all-out assault.

August 29th, 1498
Zeeland falls, and we sue for a white peace with Spain. Amazingly, the Spanish delegate accepts our offer (although rumor held that El Gran Capitan was beside himself with rage), and the Northern Army of Spain is forced home….

OoO

Generals Tandler and Jaeger stood on either side of the “corridor” of Lorraine’s troops that the invading Spanish Army had to travel through on their way back home under a flag of truce. At the head of that mighty force was the greatly feared “El Gran Capitan,” and as he passed the heroes of Lorraine, he scowled at them both and gave them gazes that would have utterly withered lesser men.

“Next time, swine…..next time you will not be so fortunate.”

And then he was gone. Pressed ahead by the seemingly endless ranks of the Spanish.

Lord Tandler looked to the elder hero of Lorraine. “Ummm….he looked really pissed off.”

Jaeger smiled innocently. “Yes he did, didn’t he?”

OoO

A letter from King Rene II of Lorraine to The Pope

Your Grace,

Having made a quick peace with Spain, and considering the disposition of forces I understand are arrayed against you (as I understand it, a combined army of Naples and Savoie currently assaults Rome itself!), I have determined that it is right and proper for the Army of Lorraine to march at once on Savoie, with plans to besiege the capitol of the turncoats, and thence to Nice.

If we can force the dogs of Savoie to submit, the troops currently besieging Rome will be let loose on the men of Naples.

If we can drive them off, we shall then leave those troops permanently garrisoned in Rome to provide for and ensure your continued safety. These men will be placed under your direct control, lest you think this to be some move on the part of Lorraine to gain power over you and yours.

The army marches at once, and I shall be at its head.

God willing, I will see you in Rome soon.

Your servant,
Rene II, of Lorraine

OoO

“Majesty….Rene….I don’t want you to go.” I told the King simply. “This is not our fight. We’ve got El Capitan just to the north of us who’s just looking for a reason….ANY reason to cross the border and lay waste to your entire Kingdom. You can bet he’ll be fuming and watching us like a hawk since we stole victory out from under him. I beg you to reconsider this.”

Rene shook his head. “Is Lorraine not a great nation?”

“It is.” I had to agree.

“And is it not the solemn responsibility of great nations to come to the defense of the weak. The defenseless?”

No arguing that point either, so I remained silent.

“Very well then. The Papal armies have been utterly destroyed. Nothing remains to defend Rome….and Lorraine, as is her duty, must rise in defense of her allies.”

My heart was heavy to the point of breaking. Something just….didn’t feel right about all this, though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was.

“I entrust you with the safety of Lorraine in my absence, noble Lord Verje. Do whatever is necessary to preserve the realm in my absence, and know that I will return as soon as this current business is finished.”

And with that, the King left the main hall, bound for the stables, his steed, and the army of Lorraine.

I….made the best of it. The King instructed that no tents or pavilions would be taken with the army. When they slept, it would be on open ground. No fires were to be lit. Nothing to mark their passage and progress through France.

The tents and pavilions, I was to set up in Flandres and just outside the gates of Brussels, so that on casual inspection, it would appear that the army of Lorraine was still encamped just south of the mighty Spanish Northern Army.

Anytime money was available, I was to begin recruiting a force to defend hearth and home, but because money was still a bit of an issue, I was reduced to recruiting infantry only. Gone was the finely balanced army I had worked so hard to create. Gone far to the south, to fight battles we had no business being in.

And it wasn’t that I didn’t feel for the Pope. I did.

But the fact remained that this wasn’t our fight. The army of Lorraine was needed IN Lorraine, not halfway across Europe hunting down turncoat dogs.

In the end though, it was not my decision to make, and the King marched the army south….

OoO

The Pope’s reply

Honorable King Rene, of Lorraine

The reports are true, and worse. The province of Romagne has been ceded to the men of Naples in exchange for peace, but even as I write this missive, some 18,000 soldiers of Milan and Savoie lay siege to Rome herself.

These are dark days for the alliance of France, and any assistance you can provide us will be greatly appreciated.

Be well, and God speed you on your way to us, and keep you safe.

OoO

October 14, 1498
Emilia falls to the army of Milan.

October 23, 1498
Tandler’s Cavalry (detached from the King’s Army) arrives in Provence, bound for Nice where it is hoped that he will be able to lock down that territory, preventing troop recruitment. The King marches for Savoie herself.

November 14, 1498
Tandler arrives in Nice, only to be turned away by the stout walls of the castle and the size of the garrison. Unable to move into the territory, he rides north to join the king, disappointed that he failed in his mission.

December 12, 1498
The King lays siege to Savoie
6,000 raw recruits from Nice march north in an attempt to save their capitol.

December 21, 1498
The army of Milan stationed in Milan (estimated at some 21,000 soldiers) is on the march, apparently bound for Rome to assist in the siege there.

January 21st, 1499
A medium-sized French army (12,000-odd strong) enters our territory heading north to engage El Capitan….their numbers are too few to do more than annoy the mighty Spaniard, and it saddens us to see such fine soldiers being sent to their deaths.

February 7th, 1499
The recruits from Nice attack our siege works in Savoie and are defeated utterly, reduced to just over a thousand men. They flee back from whence they came, and our siege continues.

February 23, 1499
A HUGE upset! The army of Milan (19k) en route to Rome is waylaid by a 5k force from Venice and routed! The survivors flee back toward Milan with the Venetians in pursuit! They will arrive in Milan mid March, and take the capital almost at once. (Walls must have been made of paper or something!)

March 2, 1499
In other news, Russia and allies declare against Kazan….why this is important to us is unknown, but it found its way into the dispatches for the alliance, and so was duly recorded here….musta been some kind of mix up in the mail room….::sigh::

March 11, 1499
French forces are massing in Brussels….more than 31,000 soldiers en route from all over France. Perhaps we’ll not have to deal with the dreaded El Capitan after all!

April 24, 1499
The French swarm continues to pour into Lorraine. Now there are nearly sixty thousand French troops on the way!

May 15th, 1499
The men of Milan don’t seem to know what they want to do. After recovering their morale, they drive off the Venetians, begin to lay siege to their capitol, and then mysteriously give up that siege and move toward Rome again.

June 20th, 1499
Our men must not like being so far from home….the siege of Savoie seems to have stalled, and the King is unwilling to risk an assault, lest we lose lives unnecessarily….GRRRR

July 20, 1499
It appears that our plan to save the Pope will fail. Another month, and no progress against the stout walls of the mountain fortress that is Savoie.

August 12, 1499
Rome falls to Savoie, and The Pope is forced to pay 250d. The King is bitterly disappointed and regards it as a personal failure. Still, our siege of Savoie has gained no additional ground.

August 28, 1499
At last! Savoie falls to the Army of Lorraine! We are too late to save Rome from being ravaged, but we demand, and get 250d, keeping the loot out of the hands of our enemies at the very least!

OoO

Second letter to The Pope

Your Grace,

Please forgive me. Our siege in Savoie stalled, and has only just now been concluded. I deeply regret my inability to end this business sooner and ride to your rescue.

I have, however, secured the riches that were plundered from Rome’s treasury, and will arrange to transport those riches back to you.

Again, forgive me.

I march the army home in sorrow.

Your Servant,
Rene II, of Lorraine

OoO

Papal Reply

Noble King Rene, of Lorraine

Your service to us, and to the alliance we share has always been exemplary. Rome will recover and rebuild, and your efforts to assist us are greatly appreciated. Please do not feel that you have failed us in any way.

May God keep you safe and speed you home to your families.

{Papal Seal here}

Post Script: Do not risk the Army of Lorraine to bring us mere gold. Keep it, and use it against our common enemies.

October 31st, 1499 – All Hallow’s Eve

The King drew his men up short at the river, stopping the army with a single flick of his right hand.

Head cocked to one side.

Too quiet.

No birdsong.

No crickets.

Nothing.

He motioned for the scouts to cross the shallows of the river and probe ahead.

Two riders moved toward the stream and then….they hit.

Ambush!

The air was filled with faint whistling sounds as a hail of crossbow bolts rushed toward them from the stand of trees across the river.

The King growled fiercely. “Dogs of Savoie, we shall crush you utterly!”

He opened his mouth to say something more, but was silenced abruptly by a crossbow bolt which penetrated his chainmail and sank deep into his chest.

The army charged.

OoO

En route back to Lorraine, the King is wounded and lies near death. (game note – actually, it was not the men of Savoie but Milan, who caught us just before we got out of the province of Savoie). General Tandler’s cavalry are released to ride ahead of the main body of the King’s Army, with orders to make for Paris and retrieve the King’s son, Antoine.

OoO

When the courier arrived with word that Rene had been injured it felt as though the arrow that pierced his armor had also pierced me.

I sat…nay…was forced back into my chair, hand at my heart clutching for something that wasn’t there.

A phantom.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

My friend.

My King.

Near death and far from home.

“Does Antoine know?” I asked faintly.

“Not yet, but riders are en route to him now to bring him here.”

I nodded.

It appeared that Prince Antoine’s star would rise well before either of us thought or wished it would.

I sat in the War Room where I had spent so many late evenings with the King, and grieved.

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 09:34

Building for the showdown.....

Novermber 26, 1499

“What’s the latest news?” Antoine asked me as he paced back and forth in the main hall.

“Still at his estate in Dauphine….my friend, the Duke of Lyonnais sent his best churigeons to see what could be done. He promised to send a rider north as soon as he had news.”

The Prince nodded and continued his pacing. “The dogs of Savoie to the south, the Spanish and their “Gran Capitan” in the north….what am I to do? I cannot act in my father’s stead.”

“You must.” I told him. “It is both your right and duty….I will help you as much as you allow me to, but I cannot….I will not do it for you.”

Our eyes met for a lingering moment, and the Prince finally nodded. We had come to an unspoken agreement that would serve as the basis for our working relationship. We each brought with us certain strengths. Mine were in diplomacy and the details. His was youthful exuberance, energy, vitality, and a certain magnetism that caused men and women alike to follow him without question.

He would make a good King indeed, and in time, I thought I could help mold him into a great King. Still, it pained me to even have to think such thoughts.

And I could see that it pained the Prince as well.

Nonetheless….for Lorraine, we began forging our working relationship, just in case the worst happened, and our King did not survive the trip home.

Just in case.

“In that case, I will tell you my mind, Lord Verje, and I will speak plainly, because that is my way.”

I nodded. “A thing you get from your father.”

That made him smile a faint smile. “As soon as my father is returned to us, dead or alive, I shall return to Paris. I’ve only one more term there, and my father would want me to finish.”

“Agreed.”

“And once I finish, I shall present myself to the King of Poland-Lithuania, who as I understand it, has long been quietly fascinated with us and our struggle…..the hope is that I can gain a commission and command in that King’s army, and gain invaluable experience to bring back here and help us deal with this “El Gran Capitan.” And this is the most important part….no matter what stories and reports you here from that nation, take them with a grain of salt. I intend to fake my own death, and return to Lorraine quietly…assuming control of the Army of Lorraine when all who oppose us think me dead and buried.”

I raised an eyebrow. A bold and intriguing plan. I had heard from friends at Court that young Antoine was an absolutely stunning field commander, having completed his courses in military strategy second in his class. That he would be arriving to take personal charge of the army after gaining worlds of combat experience, and do so in secret might give us a leg up in the next, inevitable confrontation with the armies of Spain.

“We have five years of peace with Spain. Peace that is enforced by our most recent treaty with them….use the time to build on our gains….you may as well bankrupt us again if it appears that we can stay out of trouble. When I return, I will be expecting you to raise me an army comparable in size to what the Spaniards are fielding in the Low Countries, and I don’t care how you do it….I need brave men, not fighting men. Get them for me. Get LOTS of them for me.”

I was momentarily stunned into silence.

What he was asking was patently impossible. “But My Prince, I cannot….”

The Prince shook his head. “Cannot, is a word I do not want to hear. I’m telling you that you will do this for Lorraine….that you will find a way. I have faith in you and your abilities. Time and time again you have proved yourself in service to my father. Now I ask you to do the same for me. Build me an army large enough to rival the Spaniards in the north. Break us again if you must, but do it in slow motion….I do not want my men to know the treasury is dry until after we defeat Spain.”

The impossible task just got even harder.

Now, I not only had to somehow raise an army to rival El Capitan’s, bankrupt the country again, but I had to time it perfectly….so that we didn’t actually GO bankrupt until shortly after the war with Spain.

At least I had some time to prepare, but nonetheless, I suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Never in my entire life had anyone asked such an impossible thing of me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. There simply were none.

I wanted to protest, but found myself completely incapable of it.

For his part, Prince Antoine smiled and clapped me on the shoulder in the same familiar manner I used with his father. “I trust you. I have faith in you.” He told me.

And then he left the room, which suddenly seemed to be spinning.

I needed to sit down.

On top of that, I really needed a drink.

OoO

February 3, 1500
A large French contingent (33,000+) leaves Brussels, heading north to Zeeland, apparently under orders to give battle to the Spanish Northern Army. At first, we are hopeful that they will route the cursed Spaniard out of the area, but in less than a week’s time they are sent fleeing back into the Lands of Lorraine, having lost nearly a third of their forces.

The Spaniard is barely scratched.

Worse, there is yet more recruitment in Zeeland.

March 12, 1500
The French Alliance suffers another terrible blow as Milan annexes the Papal States! Our prayers go out to the Pope as we watch helplessly. I do as the Prince had instructed, and duly bankrupt Lorraine again, building fortresses, appointing tax collectors, and recruiting troops at every opportunity.

May 6th, 1500
We buy peace with Milan for all of 6d. I don’t like it, but we don’t need them marching north, and having secured that peace, I set about preparing for the task given me by the Prince of Lorraine….

May 16th, 1500
I did not allow myself to hope, when I saw the carriage coming toward the castle of Lorraine.

As it drew closer, I noted that it bore the seal of the noble Duke of Lyonnais. Still, I did not allow myself to hope.

Closer still, and I saw that the driver was smiling.

Now, hope sprung up like a geyser in my chest.

The King lived!

The King had returned to us!

I ran with all my strength up the lane to meet the carriage.

OoO

Yes, the King lived, but all was not happiness.

I knew that the moment I saw him.

He stepped out of the carriage with assistance, and even then with great difficulty.

Worse, he looked….ravaged.

Old.

His face pale and drawn.

Trembling even with the effort of standing.

The King had returned, but he was a mere shadow of his former self.

I smiled nonetheless and embraced my friend.

“Rene….it is a good day indeed. Welcome home.”

He nodded, and I realized he was crying. “Sh…should have….listened to you….old friend.” He whispered.

I nodded and pulled away to look him in the eye. “It’s okay now….you’ve been returned to us. Lorraine is whole again.”

I helped him back into the carriage, and we rode to the castle of Lorraine together…..

OoO

Upon his return, the King slept for nearly three solid days, such was the state of his weakness, that a simple trip from Dauphine to Lorraine sapped nearly all of his strength.

During his waking moments, I mostly stayed away, knowing that his son Antoine would be returning to Paris soon, I wanted to give them time together, for I feared that Rene might not live to see his son’s return.

But on the evening of May 26th, the King called for me, and I went to his bed chamber (where, sadly, he had ruled from since his return).

“You called for me, Majesty?”

He nodded, looking older and more frail than ever.

I sat by the bed, wishing there was something I could do for my dear friend.

“You look s….so young.” He whispered in a dry, cracked voice that threatened to break my heart. “How is that….old friend?”

I did my best to put on a convincing smile. “I look young, my King, because I AM young….neither of us is an old man, you know.”

He nodded weakly. “That is so…but….I know you are….at least as…old as I, and yet….”

I knew what was coming and tried to hide the flinch and visible shiver that ran through me.

“Not a gray hair on you….no wrinkles.”

His eyes met mine, and I nodded slowly, knowing I would have to answer his unasked question….

OoO

Surprisingly, there was no change in the King’s expression when he knew.

I saw questions burning in his eyes, and knew that had he been in better health, we would have spent many evenings discussing the odd philosophy that allowed me to….

Ah what’s the use. Let’s simply say that he was in exceedingly poor health, and though he had questions, he was simply too sick, and too good a man in any case, to ask them.

For my part, I was eternally grateful, as I was not entirely certain of my ability to explain it all.

King Rene was, and remained my friend, and I knew he would keep his newfound wisdom to himself….hiding it even from his son.

And once he knew, it was never mentioned again.

Again, I was extremely grateful.

OoO

The Uneasy Peace
The remainder of 1500 passed in relative quiet. There were some scattered rebellions, but Generals Tandler and Jaeger were able to put them down relatively quickly.

All was almost eerily quiet on the part of El Capitan. We saw regular patrols, there were a fair number of taunting matches at the border between his forces and ours, but that was all.

For my part, I spent the time preparing to raise the largest army I could.
The weavers and dye-smiths worked round the clock preparing battle tunics with Lorraine’s colors. Iron workers, too, found no shortage of work.

The economy was suddenly bursting with activity as Lorraine geared up for her greatest challenge yet.

OoO

The Year of our Lord 1501 saw a general improvement in the health of the King. He no longer held Court in his bed chamber, but still tired easily and was constantly beset by a fierce, wet-sounding cough which troubled me.

Still, it was marvelous to see him up and about.

I was in frequent contact with Antione, who finished school in May of 1501, and, as discussed, made straight for the far-off Court of the King of Poland.

He got his commission and command, and immediately there were stories.

Lots of stories.

A bold prince in command of a gallant Cavalry Regiment, routing Russian soldiers at every turn. Using brilliant and unheard of tactics to completely overwhelm all opposition and dominate the battlefield.

Legends grew up around the man I knew to be our Prince, and his reputation began spreading fear on distant fields of battle.

He was a ghost. Appearing out of the ether to devastate enemy forces, and then gone before the enemy could react.

Had he been my own son, I could have been no prouder.

OoO

August 5th, 1503
Rene’s health had been slipping through the early months of 1503, but in early August, something happened which boosted his spirits.

ALL of the nations we had diplomatic contact of any kind with (including the Spanish, although I suspect that the Spanish King knew nothing of it), sent letters of commendation to our King, acknowledging his accomplishments (Random Event: Fame, +10 with all nations)). For the rest of the year, the King had a healthier glow about him than I had seen in….well, it had been too long.

OoO

December 1st, 1503
Tech advance! Caravels! (Naval Tech 2) – How’s that for wretched!?

December 16th, 1503
We receive word that Svante Stur Natt och Dagg takes the throne in Sweden. We send a letter of congratulations, and ask him how the heck he pronounces his name. More importantly, we inquire as to how they ever manage to fit it on those little place-setting tags at dinner parties.

We do not get a reply.

January 1st, 1504
Lorraine is….Dare I say it…almost thriving?

Nearing the end of our recovery period from this latest bankruptcy, we have used this time of relative peace exactly as the Prince and I had discussed. Every province in Lorraine now sported the biggest, most menacing fortress we were capable of (level 2), and we had spent a great deal of money appointing tax collectors to see to our future growth. Also, much money was poured into our Mercantile interests, and Lorraine now had a presence in all the major markets in Europe. Our research was progressing slowly and steadily, and stood to bear more fruit soon.

In all, we had used the time well.

There had been riots here and there, but they lacked focus and leadership, and so were dealt with relatively easily.

And the Army of Lorraine! Despite the lackluster morale, our army is looking hale and healthy. We’ve still far less men than the Spaniard, of course, but we’re working monthly to improve that.

At present, we have:
22,611/10,956/131 in Flandres and
9000/1000/0 in Lorraine (our reserve force)

We shall see if it is enough.

OoO

Even though the Prince warned me that the news was coming, I still blanched when I heard.

“…regret to inform you that Prince Antoine of Lorraine was slain in battle leading a charge against the Rus in the Ukraine.”

Rene looked first stunned, and then crushed.

He grabbed the table, and then my arm for support and left the main hall in tears.

GOD how I wanted to tell him the truth of the matter, but I could not.

All had to be convinced that the Prince was dead, or his plan could not work.

And so I watched my friend grieve, unable to do anything to help ease his suffering.

OoO

January 4th, 1504

Fortunately, he did not keep the truth hid from his father for very long. On the evening of January 4th, just as the witching hour tolled, a lone rider clad all in black streaked up the lane leading to the castle.

The guards halted him, and then gaped in amazement as our Crown Prince was returned to us.

He looked hale and healthy….more mature than when he left.

I hugged him warmly in greeting and ushered him inside to see his father.

OoO

“I’m sorry I could not tell you the truth of it, but it was important that the messenger see your reaction to news of my death….I’ve never met a messenger who didn’t have loose lips, and by now, I’m sure everyone in Spain who needs to know it, is convinced I am dead and you have no heir….this will make the Spaniards believe that Lorraine’s position is precarious indeed.”

Rene could say nothing….so complete was his relief that his son had come home, all he could do was smile, nod, and shed happy tears.

I watched from a distance for a while, and then retreated to give the King time with his son.
Game Note – Antione II awaits my command in Flandres – a 3/3/1 Monarch General!!!

OoO

“It’s time.” The Prince told me. “Build me an army. A huge army. One that rivals the size of El Capitan’s.”

I nodded, dreading this day, mostly because I did not know if I could do as the Prince had instructed, but nonetheless set about the task.

Men from all over Lorraine were conscripted. Taverns from all over France were emptied, and hard-edged men pressed into service. Mercenary Companies from as far off as Persia were contacted. I even went to the prisons and offered hardened criminals a chance at having their crimes pardoned if they would but promise seven years of service to Lorraine.

The Prince would have his army. It might be motley, but he asked for brave men, not uniformity, and I set about the task of getting them for him.

Lorraine: 3000/1000/10
Lux: 1000/1000
Artois: 1000/1000
Brussels: 1000/1000/10
Flandres: 2000/2000/10

April 1st, 1504
Taking advantage of French progress in the Low Countries, I issue a declaration of war against Spain on the King’s behalf. His health has again been suffering of late….the winter was harsh and none too kind to his frail condition. I fear he will not be with us much longer, and seek to give him one final glorious victory to end his days with.

As expected, the ever-loyal lackeys of Spain declare against us as a single body.

France and Brittany, ever ready to give battle to the Spaniards, immediately declare their support for the war (though in truth, the French had not stopped fighting the Spanish since our LAST war).

June 20th, 1504
A massive 54,000 man French army stationed in Brussels marches on Zeeland and drives the Spaniard off! El Capitan takes relatively few casualties, however, and marches to The Hague, where reinforcements are waiting. He will surely be back.

The French begin laying siege to Zeeland, and, not wanting that territory to fall under the French flag, Prince Antione leads a small contingent of men to the site of the battle, in hopes of taking command of the operation.

He is not in time.

The mighty French army lay in an assault of the castle which brings down its walls before Antione can arrive.

This troubles us greatly, but there is little we can do.

The Prince calls off his march into Zeeland and takes personal charge of training our latest round of recruits.

OoO

July 8th, 1504
A mixed army containing troops from Naples, Milan, and Savoie, and numbering some 23,000 men lays siege to Lorraine. Prince Antione marches his army from Flandres to Lorraine while the French continue to trade blows with the Mighty El Gran Capitan.

September 11rd, 1504
The Crown Prince of Lorraine engages the army besieging the capitol. In a fierce fight that lasts two solid weeks, he is driven off, but the army assaulting Lorraine has been crippled, now not even large enough to maintain the siege, while our Prince lost only 4,000 men.

He retires to Lux, collects the newly trained reinforcements from there, and immediately drives for them again.

October 15th, 1504
The Prince’s second attack into Lorraine crushes all but some 200 men of Italy, and those ragged and beaten souls are scattered into the wilderness. Immediately, the Prince wheels the Army of Lorraine back toward Flandres, where a large contingent of new recruits is waiting.

October 23rd, 1504
Having been reinforced, and recovered from his earlier stinging defeat, El Capitan, with some 68,000 men in his army crushes the invading French force, reducing it to a mere 17,000.

In a panic, they route toward Brussels.

February 18th, 1505
The Prince arrives in Flandres and gathers his army about him. Many of the troops are untested, and the battle hardened veterans of El Capitan lie just to the north, laying siege to Zeeland to put it back under the Spanish flag.

The Prince determines to wait until that siege has been concluded, and then strike, hopefully crushing El Capitan’s force, then taking Zeeland and putting it under our flag, rather than the French banner.

El Capitan initiates his siege with nearly 70,000 men, and our Prince waits with:
34,233/20,869/166

Recruitment continues almost non-stop, and I’m burning through our money as fast as it arrives from the Order of Bavaria.

Sadly, no additional troops will be ready by the time the Prince gives battle to El Capitan, and he is determined to violate my War Doctrines and meet the Spaniard head on.

I fear for his safety, and for the Army of Lorraine.

Having watched the dreaded commander of Spain’s northern army route the very best that France had to offer, I fear for us all. If our Prince should fail, we are surely doomed…..

OoO

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 10:01

El Gran Capitan - Part One....

Prince Antoine rode to the head of his army to survey the troops, and what he saw made him smile.

A motley collection, to be sure, but Lord Verje had done as instructed and gotten him brave men. LOTS of brave men.

He could see that much in their rugged faces and hard-edged appearance, and, having served in the armies of Poland, the Prince felt right at home.

“My men.” He whispered. “My army.”

And then he sat straight in his saddle and addressed the troops.

“I see no fear on any of the faces before me, which tells me that the Honorable Lord Verje has done his job well indeed….I asked for a legion of brave men, and that is precisely what I see assembled here….bravery. I also see a bit of uncertainty, so let me say this: I can teach a brave man to fight, but I can teach a coward nothing at all, so if there are any among you who wish to reconsider….now is your chance. Go….leave this place to the real men…the history makers among you, and know that if you choose to remain, the Lord God might own your soul, but for the duration of your service here, I own your arse.”

Silence from the ranks, and not a soul stirred.

The Prince smiled again.

“In less than one month’s time, we march north to Zeeland to engage the most fearsome army the Low Countries have ever seen. Every attempt by France’s finest troops to dislodge this “El Gran Capitan” has met with stinging defeat….every attempt.”

He paused for a lingering moment to let that sink in.

“Where the French have failed, we shall succeed….and we shall do so with faith, heart, and steel….I notice, looking at our troop rosters that new recruits outnumber our veterans by slightly more than two to one….Commanders, I want you to consider this when you form up the men….place them in clusters of two recruits, and one veteran, repeating that pattern all the way down the line…..recruits…time is too short to teach you all that you need to know, so we’ll focus on defense. Teach you how to stay alive….how to block. Your jobs will be simply not to get killed, and to protect the veterans you’ll be assigned next to….watch over them. Cover the veterans as you protect your own hides, and watch what they do. Learn from them, and if the opportunity presents itself, kill a few Spaniards, but more importantly….stay alive.”

Nods of ready agreement from the raw recruits in the ranks.

“Veterans….with two people playing defense near you, you can focus on killing the bad guys, and that’s exactly where I want your attention. Trust your flank-men to protect you, get in tight and get the job done….it’s not that different from our old style of fighting really….even though we’ve got more men in this army than Lorraine has ever seen in her entire history, we still can’t afford a long, drawn out battle….get in, get it done, and we’re out….got it?”

Enthusiastic nods from the veterans.

“Okay, from now until the day of the battle, we go on full alert….everyone at three quarter rations, picket line is doubled in strength….our first drill begins in one hour….Commanders, give your men their assignments, and meet me in my tent in one hour! Dismissed!”

And with that, Prince Antoine left them.

OoO

Command Headquarters – The Army of Lorraine

“….but My Prince….conventional wisdom says we should take the high ground whenever possible…I think it would be a grave mistake to….”

The Prince silenced Col. Trautner with a curt wave of his hand. “Conventional Wisdom also says there’s no way in Hell we can win this fight, which tells me that if we’re going to do it, then we’d better start thinking unconventionally….now, I’m telling you, this will work! Saw it used by a Polish General against the Rus….blew their cavalry hordes back to Hell…now c’mere….let me show you what I’ve got in mind.”

He smiled as his commanders leaned in closer.

OoO

Thirty Minutes Later

The Prince looked over at General Jaeger. “So…the cornerstone of the plan revolves around the gunners being able to get two shots off with enemy troops at fifty yards….General, you sure you can get that done? Because if you are, then we can win this thing.”

General Jaeger nodded. “Our boys have spent more time laying sieges than almost anybody in Europe, my Prince. They can manage it.”

Antoine nodded. “Okay then…first shot is long, just to spook them, and then bring the guns down to twenty five degrees and wait for my signal.”

Jaeger nodded curtly.

“Tandler…listen for the second volley from Jaeger’s guns. As soon as you hear it, swing your command right, and sweep in on the Spanish flank. We’ve got more horse than they do, so you’ll have the numeric advantage…use it….bulldog your way past the Spanish horse and ram the infantry as hard as you can.”

The young General nodded enthusiastically. “Trust me, my Prince….they’ll wish they were in Hell when they see my boys ride in.”

“That’s the spirit.”

A few more minutes to make sure everyone understood their assignments, and the leadership of the Army of Lorraine went out to see how the drills were progressing.

OoO

March 15th, 1505

The Army of Lorraine topped a shallow ridge, and marched down into the valley of Zeeland.

Spread out before them, their brightly colored uniforms a stark contrast to the dismal, overcast day, was a seemingly endless sea of Spanish soldiers….their battle standards fluttering in the strong wind which spoke of a coming storm.

Oh yes Antoine thought as he surveyed the troops of both sides. There’s a storm coming….no doubt.

“Commanders….form up the men here.”

OoO

In the Camp of El Gran Capitan

“Fools.” The Colonel said as he snapped shut his spyglass. “The men of Lorraine have moved down into the valley with us and appear to be forming up in the low lands.”

El Capitan smiled. “The mark of amateurs, honorable Colonel….they’re an eager looking bunch….we must give them that as their due, but that their commander lacks the good sense to claim the high ground offered leads me to believe that this fight will be over before the sun sets.”

He stood for a moment regarding the Army of Lorraine spreading out on the valley floor before him. Perhaps two thirds the size of his own force, and undoubtedly consisting of a great many raw recruits who had never encountered Spanish steel.

“Send riders….inform the King that we have won a great victory against the Army of Lorraine and will begin reclaiming our rightful territories within a fortnight.”

“But El Capitan….we have not yet engaged them….should we not….”

El Gran Capitan shot his Colonel a withering look. “If you think for a single moment that the army Lorraine has presented before us has a prayer of beating this force I will kill you where you stand! We have bested French armies with far more training and experience than this….rabble! At least the French have a measure of common sense and a basic understanding of tactics….even if they do fight like women and scream like them when they die….now send the riders! And then order the men to form ranks….we shall drive this rag tag collection of toy soldiers from the field and be back in time for dinner.”

OoO

Two Hours Later – The Army of Lorraine

With the Spanish forming up, Prince Antoine once more rode to the head of his men to address them.

“Men of Lorraine….the hour has arrived. Our hour….we can make history today….each one of us can play a role in changing the face of the Low Countries forever! If we succeed here, no longer will be known simply as the “Army of Lorraine”….victory today will immortalize us all, and forevermore we shall be heralded as the Lions of Lorraine! Hold the line, trust in me, God, and each other in whatever order you choose, and I shall see you when we conclude this dark business before us….now FIGHT!”

And with that, the Prince took position with them….personally taking command of a company squarely on the front lines.

OoO

The first volley of Spanish artillery fell short, but the second was right on the mark, and it blew holes in the Army of Lorraine.

“Close ranks and hold the line!” The Prince ordered, voice hoarse from shouting above the din. “You hear me….close ranks and hold the line!”

The army of Lorraine wavered for a moment, and then the ranks closed. The line held.

In a moment, General Jaeger’s guns gave an answering volley, much louder than the Spanish had given them as they had more field guns.

The shot was on target, and it had similar effect.

Smoothly, professionally, and without missing a step, the Spaniards closed ranks and continued advancing as though nothing had happened at all.

“Do we have time for another volley?” Jaeger asked his gunnery chief.

“We do, but no more if you be wanting us to ratchet down to twenty-five before they git here.”

Jaeger nodded. “Better give them the full treatment then….I don’t like the looks of it.”

The gunnery chief nodded and issued the order to reload.

Moments later, a second volley ripped through the Spaniards with the same effect (or lack thereof). The Spanish Juggernaut continued its approach.

Eighty yards and closing.

Slowly.

Relentlessly.

Seventy.

Now sixty.

Closer.

Closer still.

“Jaeger….guns….now!” He heard the Prince’s unmistakable voice.

And the moment the order was given, signal flags went up across the length of the Army of Lorraine. Every infantryman in the entire army hit the ground.

Less than five seconds later, all one hundred and sixty-six of Jaeger’s guns opened fire on the Spaniards, fifty yards away.

For the span of several heartbeats there was dead silence on the battlefield.

And then screams.

Lots of screams.

OoO

When the dust cleared enough to see, the Prince smiled grimly. Huge holes had been blasted into the Spanish ranks.

Their line seem to waver for a moment…disoriented.

The effect was short-lived though, and was quickly replaced with rage. And in that rage, the Spaniards closed ranks and charged….sprinting to close the distance between the two armies.

OoO

“Reload….reload damn you! Our men are dead if you don’t move your arse!” Jaeger urged them on.

Thirty yards.

Twenty.

“It has to be now! Fire!”

A second volley at close range, and then there was no time for anything else.

“Rise up, Lions of Lorraine! Rise and FIGHT!” Came the Prince’s voice from somewhere, and the army surged up and forward to meet the enemy.

OoO

Swirling, seething madness followed.

Blood and rust.

The shrill screams of the dying.

The smell of brimstone, sweat and death.

The battle raged on all day, into the night, and then on into the following morning. Lines of men ebbing and flowing like colliding angry, bloodied oceans….first with the Spanish gaining such ground on Lorraine that even the gunnery crews were swept into the melee, and then the Lions of Lorraine shoving them back with a mighty heave, only to have the Spanish again gain ground.

And it was on the fourth such reversal that the line of Lorraine trembled and then broke in the center, and Spaniards began pouring through, eager to get at the guns the men had been dying to protect.

General Jaeger drew his sword and rallied his gunnery crews to meet the oncoming Spaniards.

At their head, his one visible eye glowing with a fury reserved for Hell itself, was El Gran Capitan.

OoO

He pointed directly at General Jaeger. “You die now, swine! I told you when we last met that next time you would not be so fortunate!”

Jaeger shrugged and shot the rugged Spanish warrior a game smile. “Awww….you look so cute when you’re mad! I thought we were actually….”

“Shut up and fight or die!” The Spaniard snarled as his men fanned out to form a loose ring around the combatants.

Five seconds into the fight, and Jaeger knew he was outclassed.

The Spaniard was deadly.

Fast.

Efficient.

For every blow that Jaeger parried, another got through.

Small nicks.

One to the wrist….another to the shoulder.

And they were telling.

Slowing him down.

It would only be a matter of time, he realized, and began backing away slowly in an effort to buy a little more….

OoO

Somewhere on the Right Flank of the Army of Spain

“This is taking too long damnit! Regroup and sound the advance again….this time, either take the Spanish horse out entire, or just blow past them! If we don’t relieve the line soon they will break!”

Lord General Tandler’s War Captains wheeled smoothly around, and prepared to have yet another run at the Spanish horse regiment. Their commander was a wily one, and simply would not let them pass….and because of it, their men were dying.

“Charge! Charge now damn you!” Tandler screamed at his men, and once more they rode to meet the Spanish Cavalry.

This time, either by stroke of good fortune, or having whittled the Spaniards down sufficiently in number, their sheer momentum carried them past the Spanish horse, and they were finally free to ride on the Spanish right flank.

“Like the wind boys….we’ve not a moment to lose!” The General shouted as he and his men roared toward the main battle.

OoO

The Center - Army of Lorraine

“Where the HELL is Tandler?” Prince Antoine shouted hoarsely as he threw a Spanish regular off of him roughly.

The Spaniard was caught and impaled on the pike of one of the new recruits assigned to him, and the Prince actually took a moment in the chaos to smile. “Hey, you’re getting….” He paused a moment to dispatch two more incoming Spanish foot soldiers. “….better at that.”

The young recruit grinned and gaped as Antoine went back to work, switching now to Florentine-style….one sword in each hand.

The two recruits assigned to him watched in equal measures of amazement and awe.

The Prince was a Dervish….whirling and spinning with his twin blades, making an impenetrable shield around himself with flashing steel and cutting all who came near him to ribbons.

When the Spanish surged forward this latest time, they lost count of how many bodies piled up around their Prince and his whirlwind of swords.

“…and somebody find Tandler!”

OoO

Tandler’s men, arriving slightly late to the battle, were a welcome sight nonetheless. The Spanish were pressing hard on the lines of Lorraine, which had come apart in more than one place and showed signs of further weakening.

That changed when the horse troops of Lorraine hit the Spanish right with all the force of a furious hurricane.

Immediately the entire right flank of the Spanish went into a panic-stricken route, suddenly freeing up entire regiments of Lorraine’s infantry.

Quick to seize the opportunity, the commanders of those regiments immediately went to work shaving off companies, and shipping them out to the weak spots in the line to help shore them up, and once he got them untangled from the mass of Spanish dead, Tandler wheeled his command around to see if he could lend a hand as well.

One spot in particular, looked really bad. It appeared that a largish hole had opened in Lorraine’s lines, and some of the guns were threatened.

“Colonel Halleck….you have command here….I’m leading a company of men toward that breech to see if we can seal it.”

“Yes, Lord General.” Came the curt reply.

And Tandler rode toward the breech in the line.

OoO

Just got to buy a little more…..time Jaeger thought as he weakly parried another blow.

He was down to purely defense now….too weak and exhausted to even consider launching an attack of his own, he prayed now for a miracle to pull him out of the trouble he found himself in.

For the love of Christ! He shouted inside his head. As many miracles as Tandler and I have worked for Lorraine, you’d think that the one time I really needed one in person, I’d…..

Tandler.

There….just down the line a way.

At the head of a company of horse.

Or maybe he was just imagining it….he was so tired. So sluggish.

He smiled as their eyes met across the distance, and opened his mouth as if to speak.

A miracle.

OoO

Lord General Tandler saw the trouble in an instant.

“General Jaeger, noooooo!”

He was going to say more, but it was already too late.

The deadly Spaniard known only as El Gran Capitan took full advantage of Jaeger’s momentary distraction and split him from adam’s apple to abdomen with a single fluid motion of his wrist that sent his blade on its deadly arc.

Lord General Jaeger….the hero of Lorraine….frequent miracle worker, and the best artillerist in as long as anyone could remember looked down at the wound in confusion for a moment, and then crumpled to the ground.

Eyes blank.

Blood dripping from one corner of his mouth.

“Nooooo! You bastard, no!” Tandler screamed as he watched the man he had long idolized fall.

Before he could issue the charge order, however, the line surged again, and suddenly his company was caught in the thick of a sharp skirmish.

Weeping openly, Tandler gave them their battle orders, and rode to find his Prince.

OoO

“You saw him? You saw El Capitan? In and around our guns?” Antoine asked.

Tandler nodded. “There could be no mistaking him…..Yes….but I couldn’t get through….couldn’t save him.”

The Prince’s eyes slitted narrow, and his jaw set hard. “Aye....a fox among the hens....they were gunners, not front line soldiers....no match for the likes of him....Show me the way.”

Tandler nodded, taking a measure of comfort in the mask of rage that painted the Prince's face.

OoO

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 10:02

El Gran Capitan - Part One....(continued)

Jaeger's Guns

“Come on! Cowards! Fight me! Running will only delay your deaths, dogs of Lorraine!”

Having witnessed the death of their beloved leader, none of the artillery crews were eager to do battle with the scarred veteran warrior of Spain….single handedly, he was keeping nearly a hundred men cowed, killing any who did not get out of the way fast enough.

He had just dispatched a frail wisp of a lad….no more than sixteen, and slid his blood-soaked blade out of the boy’s stomach when he heard an odd silence fall across the field.

“El Capitan.”

It was a voice he did not recognize, so he turned.

The Prince of Lorraine.

The one that all said was dead and buried.

Here.

Quite alive and well.

“If you’re all through killing young boys….why don’t you draw against someone closer to your own caliber.” Antoine challenged.

El Capitan smiled. “Young Lordling of Lorraine…..you should have stayed dead…..no matter….I shall soon put that right.”

And the two men began circling, El Capitan with his Spanish steel, and Antoine with a pair of heavy cutlass from somewhere in the Mediterranean.….troops from both sides pausing in their struggle to watch as the duel unfolded.

OoO

Cold calculation against pure chaos.

That was exactly what the duel was about.

The Spaniard using time-tested maneuver and exquisite timing, and Antoine using a chaotic, seeming formless barrage of spinning attacks with his twin blades.

For several moments that dragged out into eternity, neither man gave much ground, and there was only the clang of steel on steel.

And then, as abruptly as the fight had begun, it ended when Antoine shot his right foot out and into the chest of the Spaniard.

Not expecting such a thing, it caught him squarely and sent him sprawling.

His sword spun out away from him, and before he could even think to reach for it, the Prince of Lorraine was atop him, a knee pressed firmly against his throat.

“So this is El Gran Capitan” He said scornfully. “Well Capitan….your army is on the run, and you are in our custody….what say you to that?”

He leaned in closer, straining to hear, and then realized just how much pressure he was putting on the man’s throat.

“Oops” He said with a voice dripping in sarcasm. “I guess that did make conversation a little tough.” He stood and looked down at the Spaniard, and then spit on him. “El Gran Capitan…indeed.”

And he turned to walk away.

OoO

Humiliated!

Never in his life had anyone bested him, and this young fool from Lorraine would not! He would not!

He groped around a moment, and pulled up a sword. Not his sword, but it would certainly do.

Then he began to rise.

OoO

Tandler saw it happening in slow motion.

“Antoine, behind you!” He shouted in warning.

The Prince began to turn, and was nearly fast enough….

-=Vel=-

**Velociryx** · September 17, 2001, 10:09

El Gran Capitan - Part Two

So blinded in his rage, and off balance thanks to beginning his attack before he had even fully stood, the Spaniard’s thrust lacked both power and focus. The steel grazed Prince Antoine’s arm, drawing blood and making him hiss, and then grin a decidedly evil grin.

“God I was hoping you’d try something like that.” Antoine said darkly as he brought both of his blades up.

A tiny flick of each wrist brought the blades together on either side of the Spaniard’s neck, neatly, cleanly removing his head from the rest of his body.

Soundlessly, El Capitan fell to the ground, and his head rolled some distance away, bouncing to a rough stop at the feet of a handful of his men.

“That was for General Jaeger.” The Prince said simply, looking disdainfully at the corpse that lay before him.

It took a moment for the realization of what had just happened to sink in, but once it did, El Capitan’s men went screaming away in sheer terror.

Word spread like wildfire, and soon, the whole of the Spanish army was in a panic, routing northward, more-or-less toward Holland.

Antoine spit on the lifeless body of the man who had been the terror of the Low Countries. “El Dead Capitan.” He said in disgust, and then sighed heavily and turned his eyes toward General Jaeger.

“Commanders….go to your troops and re-form the ranks. Before we give chase to the Spaniards….and we will give chase to them, we’ll hold funeral services for a fallen Hero….and then we will avenge him fully.”

OoO

March 15th, 1505

The Army wins an upset victory over El Gran Capitan in Zeeland, routing his force and reducing it to a mere 8,000 souls. These flee to Holland and attempt to form up there, but the Prince pursues them, routing them again a month later in Holland, then again in Friesen, and finally trapping them in The Hague and destroying them utterly. At every stop along the way, Antoine left a covering force behind to prevent further Spanish recruitment in the region, laying in his main siege in The Hague, while his covering forces worked on the other territories.

By December, all remaining Spanish territories in the Low Countries are flying the battle standard of Lorraine, but Prince Antoine does not stop there.

While he was battling the Spanish, the province of Lux rebels against us, and a small force of 5,000 Scots land in Flandres and lays in a siege there. The Prince splits his force, sending Tandler to deal with the rebellion (which he did, and with skill and fury that was very nearly the equal of our Prince) while he rides to relieve Flandres, pushing the Scottish force back into the sea and destroying them to a man (March 1506). No sooner has this force been dealt with, than a massive army from Portugal (who was allied to….someone that one of our allies picked a fight with), lands to give battle, and although it strains the army to do it, stretching it far beyond its means, the Prince routes them the same way the Scots were handled. Then, hearing rumors of another force from Portugal landing in The Hague with an eye toward slipping past him and invading into Lorraine, the Prince turns his army and deals them a crushing defeat (September 1506).

Ahhh, but perhaps I spend too much time telling of the deeds of our beloved Prince….the other allies played a great role in keeping us safe from harm, and in this war, there were many noble deeds, but in those days, in Lorraine, men would stop what they were doing and come in from the fields to hear of the latest exploits and victories of Prince Antoine.

Still, to give the allies their due, there were notable contributions in the Low Countries, like when Lorraine came under siege briefly by an army that had marched all the way up from the Iberian peninsula (some 23,000 strong), who were routed by a scant 6,000 brave Cavalry of Brittany, and of course, our ever-valiant French allies whose massive manpower kept the bulk of the Spanish armies tied up in battles that we could not hope to win.

Indeed, it was truly a cooperative victory, and perhaps not fair to the other nations in our alliance, but we scarcely listened when couriers and riders would tell tales of Brittany or France, but we hung on every word that involved our Prince!

In this time too, the King’s health suffered dearly. His cough worsened with each passing day, and now contained small amounts of blood.

It was with a heavy heart indeed that I wrote to Antoine to tell him the news, and urge him to return to Lorraine as quickly as was possible….

OoO

My Prince,
It pains me more than I can describe in mere words to pen these words and speed them on their way to you, but it is my duty, and so I must.

As you know, your father was not at all well before you departed from here to take charge of the army, and I regret to inform you that his condition has steadily worsened in your absence.

Please find your way home soon….I sense a waiting in him….it will not be long now, and I know your father well…he is attempting to delay his journey to God…waiting for you.

God speed you on your journey, and keep you safe.

Your Servant,
Lord Verje

OoO

Honorable Verje, of Lorraine,

It saddens me to hear such news, but coming from you, I accept it as God’s truth. Tell my father that Lorraine’s banner now flies over every territory in the Low Countries….the pledge made on his behalf to assure our entry into the French alliance has been fulfilled. Of course, in order to secure a peace, we will likely have to cede at least some of our territorial gains back, but he need not be informed of that….let him go to God knowing that the pledge was honored.

Send him my love, and tell him to hold on as long as he is able. Once the last of our enemies have been driven off, I will return home, and if I have my way, that will not take much longer. God willing, it will take even less time than I estimate, and I will speed my way home to you both.

Respectfully,
Prince Antoine II, of Lorraine

OoO

As soon as I had read the letter, I went to the King.

“Rene….do you sleep?”

“I….do not.” Came his weak reply. “I fear it.”

“Fear what, Majesty?”

“Sleep….I fear that….should I close my eyes once more….they will not reopen.”

I chuffed and tried to sound upbeat. “Nonsense, Majesty….you will recover from this and be a picture of fitness when your son returns to us.”

He coughed again.

More blood.

And then, managed a weak smile. “And you…My Lord Verje….are a poor liar.”

I nodded. Silently agreeing to the truth of that (at least where kin and lifelong friends were concerned), and sat with him in the darkness, and told him the good news that his son had given me.

OoO

December, 1506

Rumors of the Prince’s arrival ran well ahead of his army, and we heard he was drawing near some two weeks before the troops arrived back in Lorraine.

Completely of their own accord and using their own scant means, the peasantry of Lorraine arranged a parade (complete with three groups of minstrels!) to herald the Prince’s return. In him, the common folk had found a both a leader and a hero, and they made their adoration known in the best way they knew how.

The Prince was stunned and awed by the outpouring, and left speechless before the masses, leaving me to make a speech on his behalf as he ran through the castle to find his father.

After about an hour with him, I was summoned into the King’s bedchamber where he lay dying.

OoO

“….want you to witness this…::cough-blood:: formal transfer….of power….My son is to…be King…with the start of the…New Year.”

I nodded. “So witnessed, Majesty.”

There were tears in all our eyes.

“And now…my son….King Antoine….leave an old man….to say goodbye to a….friend.”

Antoine clapped my shoulder and held the bulk of his tears until he was out of the room, and when the door had shut behind him, the King took my hand.

“Watch him….watch over him, Hansen….he is headstrong….can be reckless….guide him.”

“Aye…Majesty. I will.”

“We did….well….you and I.”

“We did….we did indeed.” I told him.

And with that, there were no further words.

I held the King’s hand until the light and life went from his eyes, feeling hollowed out.

Empty, as only the loss of a dear friend can make you feel.

OoO

As a nation, we had much to mourn, and worse, we were still at war with Spain. That was the first matter than needed tending to. And though we were both saddened by the loss of the King, Antoine and I resolved to deal with our most pressing matters of state before we allowed ourselves the luxury of mourning…..

OoO

“….here.” Antoine said as he tossed a basket (oozing blood, I might add), on the conference table. “Give this to the Spanish Ambassador when you go into the truce tent.”

“What is it, exactly?” I asked him, half knowing the answer.

Morbid curiosity got the better of me, and I looked anyway.

“Ahhh yes, I think that will send a strong message.”

Antoine nodded. “The head of their great General of the Low Countries….tell the Ambassador that we shall have Zeeland and Holland from him, and he’s lucky we don’t demand the whole of the Low Country here and now….also tell him that if he refuses, or even hesitates in granting our demanded tribute, I shall take the Lions of Lorraine to Castille and burn down the palace around their King, storm the gates, and add the Spanish King’s head to my collection.”

I blinked.

“Yes….I think that will get their attention.”

The King…Prince…Antoine (God, and what to call him…by rights, he is King now….waiting for the first of the year was by decree but largely ceremonial….King it is then). The King nodded in agreement. “It will, and tell them that we will honor our peace with them for exactly five years….they have that long to vacate the remaining two territories in the Low Countries. If they do not, we will attack them again on the anniversary of this peace and take them by force.”

“Are you certain you want that advertised, Majesty?” I asked him. “Give them five years to prepare for us?”

He nodded. “Their Gran Capitan proved not to be so Gran after all.” He snorted. We took his army apart and then chased them all over the lowlands. So yes….let them prepare…it’s only sporting after all.”

I considered our new, vigorous King for a long moment, a smile slowly spreading across my face.

Oh yes…he had the makings of a great King indeed. He had the love, admiration, and respect of his people, and his army! God how they fought for him!

He had taken a ramshackle collection of every man with an ounce of courage I could find and molded them as one molds iron…superheating it, and then beating it into the desired form. Turning our once-called "plucky" army into a dreaded fighting machine.

They were indeed, the Lions of Lorraine, and in that moment, I firmly believed that if the Spanish Ambassador did not bow to our demands, this King….this King before me, would have done exactly as he said he would and marched his army through the hellish mountains of the Iberian peninsula, straight to the palace of the Spanish King, somehow found a way to storm those mighty walls and fulfill every word of his spoken promise.

This King.

Our King.

My smile grew, as I set about my work….

OoO

The Spanish accepted our offered peace, and I noted no small amount of uneasiness in the Ambassador’s eyes as I delivered our King’s message…word for word, exactly as he had given it to me.

They feared us.

No…that wasn’t quite right, but they feared our King, and they knew that if he choose, he could make good on his threat.

After all, was he not the man responsible for utterly destroying Spain’s great Northern Army and taking the head of it’s famed and feared leader? This, with a smaller, ill-trained force and after watching the mighty Spaniard lay waste to the best troops that our French allies could field?

Oh yes, there was uneasiness in the Spaniard’s eyes, and I was glad to see it.

Three wars with Spain, and three stunning victories, with this latest one fought in far more conventional style….standing toe to toe with the enemy, a thing I had been reluctant to do. A thing which our King was unafraid of.

“Bring me their best armies and see if our Lions don’t grind them to dust.” He told me once over dinner.

And I believed him.

Not at first, but after watching him with them….after seeing the way he worked with them….I believed, and Lorraine had in her new King a man who could truly stretch the nation beyond itself.

This was a man with Empire in his blood.

OoO

Once the peace was secured, the nation went into mourning, both for our fallen King Rene, and for General Jaeger…who is to this day revered and remembered as the First Hero of Lorraine.

And though we could ill-afford it, our new King instructed me that artisans from Brittany should be hired to craft likenesses of both our fallen heroes in stone.

Those statues remain to this very day, and stand flanking the graceful lane that leads up to the castle. King Rene on one side, and Jaeger at his right hand.

After those matters were tended to, I turned my attention once more to matters of state…specifically, the state of the economy. Fact was, we were heading for another financial crash and there was nothing on this Earth that would avert it.

So…doing as I had done for his father, I wrecked our economy again, which (predictably), sent the morale of our troops into a nosedive.

There was also lots of nasty graffiti on barracks walls about my incompetence, but the King told me to pay it no mind.

“It’s just their way of venting….they cannot hope to understand finance as you do, My Lord Verje….God’s teeth, I don’t even understand it….I only know that after each disaster you guide us through, we get stronger for it, so I say, keep at it! I’ll lead the men personally, and that should offset any morale hit your fiscal policies cause us.”

And so it went.

Still at war with distant Portugal, crashing the economy on purpose, and in the meantime, building fortresses, appointing bailiffs, and growing Lorraine in the name of the King.

During this time (June, 1508), it came to our attention that stubborn Portugal had come to a stunning peace with England, wresting Calais from their control.

Antoine, whose army had not been significantly reinforced or supplied since our war with Spain had nearly shattered it (reducing it to some 1/3 of its former strength), rode off with only the handful of men he had, routed a small (3k) detachment from the Army of Portugal that had remained behind when the peace was England had been signed, and then laid in a siege.

Less than six months later, the city fell to our King, and I was sent once more to negotiate a peace.

OoO

“….sent twenty-four thousand of your finest soldiers to their deaths!” I leaned in close to the Ambassador from Portugal.

Conspiratorially.

“Just between us, I know for a fact that the King has ordered the construction of warships, and should your King NOT acknowledge Calais as a part of the ‘Natural Borders of Lorraine, those warships will drop the King’s Lions off in Tago.”

The Ambassador met my eyes for a moment…searching.

Finally, he sighed and nodded.

“Calais was hard won, but our King fears the Lions of Lorraine. Tell him that we are most sorry for this war, and that we acknowledge his possession of Calais.”

I didn’t allow myself to smile until after the Ambassador had left.

Poor liar indeed! I could not entirely suppress the chuckle. “Ahhhh Rene, old friend…if you could see me at my work.” I said to the empty room, a note of sadness creeping into my voice.

There were no ships….or at least not in the numbers I had led the poor simp to believe. Nonetheless, the King had presented me with an opportunity to further our lands, and I set about my work.

It would by no means be the last time our King had such work for me.

Empire in his blood.

Indeed.

-=Vel=-

**Shadowstrike** · September 17, 2001, 18:25

I'm really enjoying this AAR. Sadly, I haven't had very much time to read it....

And I finally figured out that the Vel on this forum was the same over at the EU boards.....

**SnowFire** · September 17, 2001, 21:47

Very enjoyable AAR, even if you had a bit too much fun with the melodrama at times. It actually gives a reason for bizarre occurences like Scotland declaring war on the Papal States: It's all a conspiracy! Ahhhh!

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