Chapter 97 Hope Blue Diamond (XIV)
◎On the eve of war◎
Pennants embroidered with golden lions and long swords fluttered majestically on the towers of the imperial palace. Knights in dark blue short cloaks stood motionless like sculptures at various important roads. They were stationed in the palace of the supreme monarch of the Empire of Calais. Ever since declaring war on Assyria, the moody emperor had been hiding in his bedroom neurotically and refused to go out, and even stopped participating in his favorite daily hide-and-seek activity at night.
The empire's finance minister, the Queen Mother's former favorite and lover, hurried in from the corridor. The man, who was over fifty years old, still had black beard and hair, a strong body, well-proportioned and strong limbs, and a loose scarlet cashmere robe covering his slightly fat belly, but from his facial features that had not been overly distorted, it could be seen that he must have been a handsome guy when he was young.
The minister crossed the complicated corridor bridge and stopped at the door of the emperor's bedroom. The imperial guards sucked in their stomachs and puffed out their chests, stomping their feet to salute him.
For a man who had lived through the reigns of two François emperors and was still able to sit peacefully on a high throne, and even become the lover of the Queen Mother - and safely became her "predecessor", it is no exaggeration to respect him.
"I want to see your Majesty immediately," whispered the Chancellor.
The team officer immediately went to report, and soon the door was opened. The emperor's chamberlain stood behind the door. When he saw the finance minister, he showed an expression that was not sure whether it was relief or embarrassment: "...Sir, His Majesty is waiting for you inside."
The Minister of Finance waved his hand, leaving his entourage outside the door, strode into the emperor's bedroom, and bowed deeply to the emperor in accordance with etiquette. When he straightened up and saw the young man sitting next to the emperor, his face froze for a moment.
"I implore Your Majesty to dismiss the attendants," he said respectfully.
Viscount Yulia's expression twisted rapidly.
No matter how much time had passed, no matter how many times he had to go through it, although he already possessed authority that was almost that of an emperor, these nobles still bothered to hide their contempt and dissatisfaction towards him. François saw him as a plaything, and he could not resist, but these guys, who were also just subjects of the emperor, how could they dare to look down on him?
Yulia cast a malicious look at the minister, but sat firmly on the spot without moving.
"If you have anything to say, please speak frankly." Most of the time, Francis IV could be described as having a mild temper, especially when he was not losing his temper. He could even be given a nickname like "François the Good".
The emperor's implicit refusal made the finance minister somewhat dissatisfied, but the nobles, who were always good at judging the situation, tactfully skipped the topic: "Your Majesty, I regret to report to you that the first expeditionary force we sent to Assyria encountered an attack in the Black Sea, and suffered heavy losses in ships and personnel."
The smiling little emperor was surprised for a moment and sat up straight. His thick, curly wooly hair rolled on his chest as he moved, making him look as harmless as a stuffed animal.
"What? - I don't understand," the little emperor said slowly. His tone was very steady, and there was no sign of anger at all. However, Viscount Yulia next to him was secretly regretting that he had not followed the old man's wishes and left here. "You said they were... attacked? In the Black Sea?"
"Yes, sire."
"But I remember that there is no regular army on the Black Sea that can confront the Calais Navy. The main force of Roman's navy is still in the port. We have already discovered this." The emperor's voice was gentle, but those who knew him knew that the gentler he was now, the more morbid he would be when he went crazy.
The finance minister was calm and composed. He was chosen by his colleagues to report the bad news to the emperor. In addition to his poor popularity, he also had some experience in dealing with such situations: "They are not the regular army of any kingdom, Your Majesty. Their flags are messy, there is no uniform, and there are no emblems on their ships. According to the admiral's judgment, they should be pirates active in the Black Sea."
François was stunned for a moment.
The Black Sea is a very chaotic place, where murder and looting happen all the time. The laws of civilization have no binding force on it. The only rule here is the law of the jungle. Pirates fight against nature and wander on the sea all year round. Every country regards these scourges as thorns in their eyes. Once they go ashore, what awaits them is the gallows in the vegetable market.
Pirates have no loyalty or trust. They are not loyal to any country or monarch, but only to eternal gold coins.
Some pirates would take some of the money from passing ships, while the more heinous pirates would kill everyone on the ship and take everything on the ship for themselves.
But this is aimed at merchant ships. How could pirates rob regular troops? Especially since this army is the navy of the Calais Empire - unless the pirate leader's brain was soaked by the beer from the previous night and he was hit in the face with several tons of salted fish.
However, such an absurd and bizarre thing happened.
"You said that my army was plundered by pirates?" Francois repeated the fact slowly and ambiguously.
As he said this, Viscount Yulia unnoticeably withdrew his hand which had just been placed in the emperor's arm and sat up straight with dignity, while the Minister of Finance bowed his head deeply.
"I am sorry, Your Majesty."
They all thought that the little emperor was about to fly into a rage, but unexpectedly, he actually laughed.
This smile made the other two people present feel creepy and they had an urge to run away.
"How interesting," François said to himself, "very interesting, very interesting..."
"They also said," the minister hesitated for a moment, but still did not dare to hide it, "They said that they are the faithful believers of the Holy Lord, and they are punishing the disrespectful people who blaspheme the Holy Lord's majesty with thunder and fire on His behalf..."
Everyone knows that this is nonsense. The degree of pirates' faith is comparable to that of men being able to give birth to and raise a child independently. Pirates are pirates because they burn, kill, plunder and commit all kinds of atrocities. Everyone who sets foot on a pirate ship needs to kill an innocent person with their own hands to prove their firm determination to join. From this point of view, there are no innocent pirates, and the moment they become pirates, they have abandoned their faith and the Holy Lord.
"A smart man." François was not angered by this provocative nonsense, but laughed strangely.
"He is reminding me that if I want to take revenge, I have to find the right enemy." The little emperor said softly.
The pirate seemed to be provoking Calais, but he implicitly exposed the mastermind behind him. This behavior was certainly very fence-sitter - but isn't that what pirates do? He took the money from the Papal States, attacked the ships of Calais, and then wanted to sell out the Papal States to save his life from Calais. His ability to change with the situation was quite unique.
The pirates put themselves in the position of tools. If there is a grievance, there is a perpetrator. Of course, they should seek revenge on the person holding the knife instead of holding on to the knife - this is how normal people think, but François is not a normal person.
"I don't like him," the little emperor sighed, "How could he betray the Holy See? Such a despicable and shameless villain actually betrayed the trust of the Holy See. This is such a sad thing."
Yulia and the Chancellor looked at each other.
"What you mean is..." The finance minister, who was over fifty years old, asked with some difficulty. He felt that his heart might not be able to withstand the shock of this majesty with such a strange way of thinking.
"Of course, we must destroy the pirates," Francois ordered briskly, "Send all the ships that dare to challenge the Empire to hell to meet their pirate devil - if there is such a thing."
"What about the Papal States..." Everyone knew that pirates were just a trigger, and the real conflict was between the Papal States and Calais.
With the Assyrian crown standing between them, there was no way the Papal States and Calais could reconcile. Although many nobles in Calais could not understand Francis IV's inexplicable and crazy desire for Assyria, as vested interests, they were very happy to have this opportunity to grab more wealth. Therefore, after Francois declared war on Assyria, the nobles were almost excited to fan the flames, igniting the emotions of the court and even the people. This was one of the reasons why Francois was able to organize a naval team so quickly.
This also meant that they were on the brink of a breakup with the Papal States.
"Should we continue to send gifts to Florence this year?" The minister originally thought that this was a question that did not need to be asked again. They were on the verge of a falling out with the Papal States. It could be said that the two countries were just short of declaring war. Did they still need to send gifts to each other's monarchs? But the little emperor's behavior suddenly made him a little unsure.
"Of course," the little emperor looked at him in surprise, "Why do you have such a question?"
God, the Chancellor of the Exchequer was completely confused by the little emperor's mood swings.
Only now did he truly realize that he was an old man who was out of touch with the trends and the times, and knew nothing about the thoughts of young people.
"But the Papal State instigated pirates to attack our army. How can you use your precious tolerance on such despicable people?" The speaker was Viscount Julia. He did not understand politics or military affairs, but he knew the simplest truth - good things given away can not necessarily be taken back. Every gift François sent to the Papal Palace was good things that even he was jealous of. Instead of giving them to the Holy See, it is better to give them to himself. You know, the Holy See already has enough good things!
François, who had not shown any expression when hearing about the navy's defeat, suddenly became furious because of this sentence. He raised his hand and smashed the enamel teacup on the table to the ground. Amid the crisp shattering sound, he coldly warned: "Please recognize your identity, Your Excellency. I have not given you the right to participate in political discussions. When the emperor is governing, please keep silent."
The Viscount turned pale with fear and bowed his head in fear to admit his mistake: "Yes, Your Majesty, I am sorry."
François looked at him for a while, his eyes fell on the Viscount's long golden hair. The long-term wealthy and superior court life made up for the Viscount's deficit in his early years. His hair was soft and shiny, like a piece of gorgeous silk. The little emperor softened his tone: "My dear, don't admit your mistakes to me. I'm sorry for losing my temper with you just now."
Julia looked at the emperor. Even if he was a fool, after being with François for so long, he knew how to live comfortably in the hands of this crazy emperor. Not to mention Julia, who was good at changing with the times. When he heard this, he knew that the emperor had softened his heart towards him again. He could take this opportunity to make a small request. Not only would the emperor not be angry, but he would be happy with his "pressing for an inch".
"You are always wise, Your Majesty. You are right. As a viscount who has made no contribution to the empire, I accept the offerings from the people. I feel uneasy inside."
Hearing this, the Chancellor rolled his eyes vigorously at the carpet.
Feeling uneasy?
You didn't feel uneasy when you arrogantly whipped the maids, and you didn't feel uneasy when you asked the kitchen to provide you with fresh milk and honey for bathing every day, not to mention riding a flower boat outside the city and showing off your gorgeous clothes and jewelry to the poor people...
Holy Lord, what kind of idiot could do such a thing? !
Because of the existence of this foolish viscount who only had good looks, the royal family's support among the people dropped significantly.
"So what do you want?" The little emperor raised his eyebrows with interest. "A guard? The title of count? Or the latest jewelry?"
The last two items were what Julia would always ask for, and usually he would get jewelry, but the emperor had no intention of making him a count.
Yulia's expression did not change at all, and she continued to perform calmly: "No, I want to get a chance."
"Opportunity." François chewed on the word.
"Yes, I want to follow the expedition to Assyria... and participate in the battle."
As soon as he said this, not only François, but even the Minister of Finance who was standing there pretending to be deaf and dumb could not help but look up at him, to make sure that the person sitting there was Julia himself and not some actor who looked like him.
Julia said this while holding his breath, feeling the blood rushing to his head. He sat there holding his breath, nervously imagining François's possible reaction. He did not make this decision on a whim. To put it simply, it was his family - those greedy brothers and sisters and parents who were of the same blood as him. They wanted too much from him, and as a viscount with little real power, he could not satisfy their growing appetite.
So Yulia had only two choices: either completely sever ties with her family, or work hard to climb up to a level where she could satisfy their desires.
Although he knew that their desires were likely endless, even the most rational people would occasionally be overwhelmed by their emotions.
If he went to Assyria, regardless of whether he actually achieved military merit, he could gain something from the war that the court could not give him, whether it was a higher title or real power. Moreover, his relationship with François would enable him to obtain absolute protection. What reason did he have not to go for such a purely gilded act?
Of course, he was a little scared, so if François refused...
"OK."
Yulia's thoughts stopped in mid-sentence.
The little emperor readily agreed to his request.
When the second wave of troops set out for Assyria, the news was passed back to Florence by the sacred crows along the way. After François's purge, the number of sacred crows in Calais had decreased a lot, and the news from the Duclair Palace could no longer be obtained. If the army's mobilization had not made too much noise, Florence might have had to wait until later to get the information.
Raphael was sitting in a wheelchair - Dr. Polly firmly forbade him to walk, or even stand for long periods of time. He should sit or lie down all the time unless necessary - the person who should be happiest about this should be Ferrante. The leader of the Holy Crows has been sticking to the Pope almost every step of the way during this period. In fact, he has always been hiding around the Pope, but now he is accompanying the Pope openly.
A young man wearing the simplest monk's robe pushed the wheelchair. The wheelchair, carefully made by the best craftsmen in Florence, was light and flexible, and could move freely even on the thick carpet.
"...They are about to leave the border. Are they going to make moves in the Black Sea again this time?" As the person who delivered the message, Ferrante naturally knew what was written in the letter.
The Pope held the letter in his hand and said casually, "No need. I guess the group of escaped fish from the old Russo family will soon be wiped out by the navy of Calais."
When Raphael was cleaning up the lords of the Papal States, many of the lords' relatives fled when they saw the situation was not good. Among them were of course the family of the culprit, old Russo. At that time, Raphael did not pursue them all over the continent with great fanfare, because that would be too energy-consuming. He only announced the names of those people and announced that they would be deprived of their church membership. A considerable number of people could only survive by relying on the little gold and silver they brought with them, while the Russo family, who were skilled and courageous, picked up their ancestral property.
They left the port that originally belonged to the Russo family, took away several of the Russo family's ships, and returned to their old business of sea robbery. With their ruthless hearts and deep background, they even made a name for themselves in the chaotic Black Sea.
After Raphael learned that Calais had sent troops to Assyria, he planned to make things difficult for them. After thinking about it, he thought of the group of people who had escaped the net from old Russo's family.
The pirates had been calling the shots in the Black Sea for several years without seeing any pursuers from the Papal States. They thought their disguise was quite effective and gradually relaxed their vigilance. When they saw a commission that was obviously related to the Vatican, they did not think much about it and instead felt complacent, thinking that this was a good opportunity to take revenge on Raphael.
However, they had no idea that François was a psychopath who was unwilling to listen to explanations.
Raphael folded the letter and put the matter behind him. It was just a matter of convenience for him and not worth his attention.
"We have to start preparing for the battle. If we wait until Calais completely captures Assyria, we will be in a situation where we cannot resist," Raphael raised his head. "Go contact our allies and ask Lesherte to prepare to form the Holy Legion. The Pope's Palace will issue a call for action soon."
Ferrante understood what he meant. There was something hidden in these plain and ordinary words.
The wind and thunder that could stir up the whole world made him tremble with fear and shudder.
"Is this another holy war, Holy Father?"
Raphael smiled: "No, this is not a holy war."
This is a crime of injustice and self-desire, but I will prevail.
The author has something to say:
The war is going on! The war is going on! The fight is finally about to begin! ! ! ! I've been laying the groundwork for so long, and now I can finally fight!
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