The Beautiful Girl and the History Class (CK)

[Izulde]

There are things in life that you always remember---the way your favorite flavor of ice cream tasted on a warm summer day, your mother's chicken soup on a cold winter day, the thrill you felt when the team you loved won, and so on.

What I'll never forget is the way I felt the first time I saw -her-.

It was my senior year of college and like many university students, I'd avoided taking my least favorite general education requirement until one of my last two semesters.

So it came to pass that in September of that year, I found myself walking into History 103: Survey of European History and slouching down in a chair near the back, where the professor wouldn't see me.

I looked around the room, sneering at my fellow students who were already there. Most of them were wide-eyed freshmen who looked either eager or terrified to be there. You could always tell the freshmen, because they were the ones actually fully alert and ready to go at 7:45 am the first day of a semester. Not like the old hands like me who knew better than to take a course that early. Hell, I only got stuck with a class so ungodly early in the morning because it was the only one that met three times a week. 50 minutes three times a week was a lot better than twice a week at an hour and 20 minutes a piece.

Professor Morengay was the instructor, fortysomething with the bushiest beard I'd ever seen on a man. My fraternity brothers who'd had him before said he was a great lecturer, a real storyteller who made History at least a little less boring than it actually was. Since they were usually right about that kind of thing, that gave me another reason to put up with the hassle of having to wake up at 7 am every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Anyway, there I sat, not really paying attention as Morengay started going through the roll in his deep bullfrog's voice until the door creaked open, drawing everyone's attention.

Heh, typical freshman, running late and lost, I thought.

And then all thought went out of my head.

Standing there, blushing under so many eyes on her, was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

The first thing I noticed was her hair, so light blonde it was almost white. I swear, when she moved, it looked like it cascaded and rippled like sunlight dappling and sparkling the surface of a stream. You know the kind of sunlight I'm talking about. The kind that turns this more than pretty white when it hits the water, no longer yellow.

She was dressed in a plaid grey and white skirt that ended just above the knees, so cute I wanted to rip it off her with my teeth along with the simple white blouse she wore.

Her eyes I couldn't see too well, because I was at the back of the room, but her lips were pink and soft and just the perfect shape for what a girl's lips should be doing to a guy.

After a moment of silence, Morengay gestured with a grin, "Well, come on in. History 103? Is that the class you're looking for? Cuz if you are, this is just the right spot."

She nodded, doelike, and quickly found the nearest seat, busying her hands with her backpack while the professor took our attention from her by resuming the roll.

Once we'd gotten through with that tedium, he handed out the syllabuses and prattled through all the rot I'd heard in so many other classes throughout the four years I'd been there.

"Since it's the first day of college for so many of you, I'll let you go early today", Morengay said, "We start on Wednesday with a look at a time when a real bastard took over England."

The class laughed and the noises of leaving started up.

Me personally, I could've cared less about whatever cheesy jokes the prof was making.

My eyes were on her.

She quickly got her things together and left, no doubt to avoid the embarrassment of coming in late.

Suddenly I found myself looking forward to 7:45 am Wednesday and all the 7:45s thereafter those three days a week.

Author's Note: There will, prior to the CK playing, be lectures. Astute and more knowledgable historians than I will no doubt notice inaccuracies. Simply take these as part of an alternate history and the particular story the professor chooses to tell.

[Izulde]

That first Wednesday morning was the first time in my university career I actually felt a certain sense of excitement about class. I actually looked forward to going, just to see -her- again. I hadn't felt like that since middle school and it was a weird feeling.

I even showed up ten minutes early, another first.

This time I took a seat in the second row. Not because of any love for Morengay's lectures or anything, but because she seemed to be a front room kinda girl.

Sure enough, when she came in five minutes later, golden legs beneath a powder-blue skirt and blouse with a white sweater draped and criss crossed around her shoulders, she took the chair two seats to my right.

I looked over, smiled my Rico Suave smile, and gave her my best ladykiller upnod, "Hey. Sup?"

She started from rummaging for her notebook, looked over at me, blinked, and went right back to her hunt for pen and paper.

As I slumped back from that rejection, I couldn't help but feel thankful none of my brothers were in the class with me. They'd have given me shit about it all week. See, the thing is, I had something of a rep for being a player, especially with the sorority girls. My best time was when I banged the Alpha Chi Sigma president, a prissy and proper little brunette with just one weakness... a weakness that I found and exploited one drunken Friday night. I was the hero of the fraternity for the rest of the semester.

Anyway, Prof Morengay came in while I was mulling over what tack to take next. He didn't believe in taking attendance, as he said people who didn't come to class usually flunked the course, so he wasn't going to waste "valuable time" reading off about 70 names.

He put his notes up on the lectern, cleared his throat, and began in that deep voice I still can remember to this day:

"I'm going to start our survey of European history this first week or so by looking at various regions of the continent and covering the period from approximately prehistory until 1066, when William the Bastard conquered England. Once those lectures are completed, I'll be selecting a specific region to focus on from 1066 on based on the feedback I get concerning each lecture from you guys."

Yeah, like I was going to do that. I didn't care what the hell he said. I glanced over at the girl and smirked to myself when I saw she was staring attentively at the professor and taking notes. Well, what the hell, I thought. I got out my own notebook and pen, flipped open to the first page and prepared to take notes myself. If she was the goody type, then I'd play that role.

"We'll start with England itself" continued Morengay, "Simply because I want to."

The class chuckled appreciatively and I covertly rolled my eyes. I never did get professors who try to be funny. Still, I was there to make myself look good, so I started paying more attention as he began his lecture in earnest.

"The pre-historic era of Britian was a series of cultures interspaced between various ice ages. It wasn't until about 10,000 years ago that the ice ages finally ended and it wasn't until 8,500 years ago that the melting of the glaciers at last and forever created the English Channel separating the island from the continent. Up until the time, there were periods where England and the continent were connected via a land bridge similiar to the one that once joined Alaska with Russia that some of you may be more familiar with.

It was about this time that humankind had spread from the south of Britian, where they'd originated, to extend throughout the island, included the area today known as Scotland. The island's society structure was still one based very much on hunting and gathering for several thousand years . A more permanent society based on farming and settlement first appeared in approximately 4,400 BC, during the Neolithic Period.

The Neolithic Period was also the first time that we see contact between the island and the continent, as anthropologists currently believe that the technology for farming came from intermarriage and other such contacts with Neolithic cultures on mainland Europe. This exchange of knowledge and people only increased from then on and particularly took off sometime around 1,600 BC, during the Bronze Age with the advent of tin mining in the resource-rich southwest of Britain in what is today Cornwall and Devon.

The nature of the island's culture and society changed again in the next age, the Iron Age, with the arrival of metal-working techniques from southern Europe and the Celts, who as we'll see also populated other parts of Europe, including some places that might surprise you. The Celts will play an important role later on, so remember them. Society about this time took on a tribal focus, with the head of a state as a chieftan. And what happens when you get a bunch of tribes together in a territory?"

Prof Morengay paused here and looked at us, no doubt waiting for an answer. I smirked and raised my hand. Freshmen take a while to learn that class participation is a fast-track way to a good grade.

He nodded to me.

"They try to kick each other's asses", I replied, to the mixed laughter and shocked gasps of my newbie classmates who didn't know yet that profanity was common in university settings. As part of my witty answer, I looked over at the girl and winked.

She gave me a stare that came straight out of the Ice Age. Whoops. Strike two.

"That's right! They went to war with each other!" beamed the prof in approval.

"As a result, hill forts came to be built during this time as a means of defense. This tribal state of affairs and warfare continued until around 175 BC when a people called the Belgae from a place called Gaul flooded and settled in the first settlements that can really be called towns in southeast Britian. They were refugees from the biggest, baddest, dudes the world's ever known. They were fleeing from somebody called the Romans and a sprawling landmass named the Roman Empire.

Of course, the Romans being the Romans, they couldn't stand to have any territory not under their control, so in they came during the last century of the BC era. A man you may have heard of called Julius Caesar was the first notable Roman to make contact with the island, landing there as part of a scouting mission in 55 BC. From there a series of invasions ensued, but none of them were successful. Instead, the Romans were forced to settle for establishing diplomatic and trade relations with the various British tribes.

It wasn't until 43 AD in fact, that the Romans were finally able to successfully conquer Britain. In the decades that followed, the Romans did what they do best, which is conquering people. They stretched into Wales and up into Scotland, but were forced as a result of some really fierce fighting and revolts on the part of some nasty and tough warrior tribes called the Picts and the Scots to halt their advance in the first century AD. Realizing they could get no further, the Romans contented themselves with building a wall along the Scottish-RomanoBritish border called Hadrian's Wall after the Roman emperor at the time.

Despite this magnificient feat in conquering most of the island, the Romans didn't exactly have a happy, peaceful time in Britain. Much as is the case with certain American military expeditions today, there were revolts and unrest throughout the conquered territory. By the 4th century, Roman Britain was fighting on three fronts: the Scots and Picts in the north, the Irish in the west, and a Germanic tribe called the Saxons in the east."

The professor stopped the lecture to put up a map on his overhead before continuing.



"The area you see outlined in yellow here is Roman-controlled Britain. Pretty big territory that should be able to handle a few revolts, right? Well, the problem was compounded by the fact that a lot of troops were needed to garrison and somewhat stabilize the territory to begin with. This gave any governor with greater ambitions the military power to revolt against the Roman Empire and indeed, this frequently happened throughout the Roman occupation period. Things were made worse in the 4th century when a guy named Constantine that we'll talk about later decided to move the capital of the Roman Empire somewhere else and basically split the empire in half.

By the fifth century, it was pretty clear Rome's stay on the island was coming to an end. More revolts cropped up, including a peasant rebellion that the Roman emperor refused to surpress. A different group of Saxons than the ones who'd been harassing the eastern borders took advantage of the chaos to revolt. These Saxons were mercanery troops who'd been brought over the preceding couple of centuries to help the Roman legions stamp out rebellion. Now they were rebels and the Roman administration was powerless to stop by them.

By 600, the Romans were gone and the Saxons were now the rulers of the previously Roman territory. I see we're out of time, so we'll pick up on Friday with the Saxon period."

I had a headache from too much history in one sitting. In fact, it hurt so bad I didn't even look at the girl. I just packed my stuff, threw my backpack over my shoulder, and headed back to the fraternity house where a couple Advil had my name on them.

Why was I doing this again?

[Blade6119]

Izulde and crusader kings...this can only mean great things. Looking forward to another of your great reads buddy!

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by Blade6119

Izulde and crusader kings...this can only mean great things. Looking forward to another of your great reads buddy!

Thanks! I have to say this is my fave CK dynasty so far.

[Izulde]

I was really glad when Friday came along. I had just History and that was it, even though the class was beginning to lose some of its appeal. I mean, when you've got a girl as gorgeous as that acting like some sort of ice princess and the class being too early as it was, well let's just say my motivation was going downhill fast. Why not just drop it and take a different section in my last semester, I suggested to myself.

That was before she walked in wearing a white sweater that snuggled each and every inch of her body. I mean, it was so close-fitting, it was like the angora was her skin. The denim skirt I only half-noticed from my position in the fourth row. After being shot down Wednesday, I'd needed to back up and reconsider things. She, of course, sat in the second row.

As I tuned out the pre-class chatter around me, I started compiling a list of mental notes. Judging from her clothes the first three classes, she really liked white and blue and her tastes ran more to the preppy side of things, today's denim aside. She also seemed to be a pretty serious student type, from how furiously she'd taken notes and how intensely she'd stared at the hairy goat we had for a professor. Oh and let's not forget the glacial glare from Wednesday either, I reminded myself.

It was a sketch, an outline of just a few faint lines, but it was a beginning.

My thoughts were interrupted by Morengay's tromping up to the lectern and beginning the day's lecture.

"Last time, we looked at the history of Britain from prehistoric times until the end of the Roman occupation that we'll say occurred in the early to mid 400s, as the Roman legions left around 407, but some Roman-British hung around for a while, though by this time a lot of them had fled to other parts of Europe, most notably the region in France today known as Brittany, a name it acquired as a direct result of this Roman-British emigration. I also mentioned last time that by 600 the Saxons were in charge, but that's a bit of an oversimplification."

He paused to put a map on the overhead.



"As you can see from this map, there were quite a lot of ethnic groups running around Britain after the Romans left town. That's because whenever you have a situation where the champ hangs it up, the contenders left over are going to be fighting it out for the title. The Saxons, as I said last time, were a Germanic tribe, from present-day northern Germany specifically. The Angles arrived from what is today southern Denmark and the two groups more or less divided the bulk of the old Roman territory between themselves as you'll see from this next map."

The prof changed images and I found myself getting vaguely interested against my own will. Maybe my brothers were right about this guy being a good storyteller.



"Although this map is about two hundred years after the previous one, it does a good job of illustrating my point that the Angles and the Saxons dominated the former Roman dominion during that period. As a side note, the Britons you saw in the southwest tip are not the old Roman-British, but are in fact the indigenious peoples of the island before the Romans arrived. That's also the place where many people believe a guy you may have heard of named King Arthur was based. I'm not going to be going into Arthur, it's just an aside. If you're interested, you can research the possible historicity of Arthur for your paper later this semester.

Getting back to my original point, because the Angles and the Saxons controlled the bulk of the island and because they were so close to one another, the term Anglo-Saxon has frequently been used to describe the period and the peoples. But it's important to remember that these in fact were two very distinct and separate cultural groups.

Now, as you may have already guessed from the second map, no one kingdom managed to occupy Roman Britain's boundaries. They simply weren't strong enough. Instead, you had at least seven major kingdoms duking it out, all in hopes of uniting Roman Britain. They were Northumbria, which, by the way, was actually a union of two smaller kingdoms called Bernicia and Deira, Mercia, Kent, East Anglia, Essex, Sussex and Wessex."

Prof Morengay pointed out each of the kingdoms in turn in the silent, darkened room with his pen.

"There were more kingdoms than that and of course you have the Picts and the Scots up north, but for our purposes, there were the seven major kingdoms. The Irish we'll get to another time.

Throughout most of the 600s, Northumbria looked like the ones who'd come out on top. In fact, in 655, the Northumbrian king at the time, Oswiu, killed the Mercian king, Penda at the Battle of Winwaed, leading to Oswiu's annexation of Mercia into Northumbria. Quite a lot of territory if you put the two kingdoms together.

Unfortunately for the Northumbrians, they were only able to hold on to Mercia for a few years, as the slain Penda's son became the inspiration for a lot of revenge stories by rising up in rebellion against the hated invaders and driving the Northumbrians out. Things got even worse for Northumbria towards the end of the 600s, when the Picts came along and kicked their butts in a major battle that resulted in the Northumbrian's king getting killed. You basically didn't want to be king during this time period. You had too good a chance of getting killed in battle as these guys illustrate."

The class chuckled and for once I didn't roll my eyes.

"So with Northumbria out of the picture, I'm sure it's no surprise to you to learn that Mercia was the next kingdom to assume a position of influence and power, especially after a guy named Offa became king in the mid 700s. Offa was really smart and quickly set about conquering some of the smaller kingdoms around him. Sussex fell under his control in 771, Kent acknowledged him as its superior in roughly the same time period, though Offa did allow subordinate kings to rule as what we might call governors, and portions of Wessex also came under Offa's influence in the 780s. East Anglia came into Offa's possession towards the end of the eight century as well, following the murder of Aethelbert, the previous king of that territory. There's some speculation that Offa ordered Aethelbert killed so that he could consolidate power over East Anglia, but nothing has been proven conclusively concerning that event.

He also was shrewd in his British diplomatic affairs, marrying his daughters off to the West Saxon and Northumbrian overlords to establish alliances. As another sign of his power, currency minted with his image was used as the monetary standard throughout the territory he controlled and even throughout many of the other kingdoms in the old Roman Britian.

Unfortunately, he was not perfect in his unification efforts. The Scots and the Picts remained unconquered, as did the Welsh in Wales to the west, whom Offa was never able to conclusively defeat. But he did a very wise thing after he realized he wasn't going to be able to finish the Welsh off once and for all. Taking a page from the Roman imperial playbook, he had a wall built on the Mercian-Welsh border called Offa's Dyke, his answer to Hadrian's Wall in the north from the Roman days.

So why wasn't Offa's successor able to build on what he started, eventually unifying all of the former Roman domain, or even the island completely? Three reasons, ladies and gentlemen.

First, his son and chosen successor died five months after taking the throne. Second, the West Saxons, who populated the kingdom of Wessex, started growing in power. Third, and the biggest reason, were a bunch of hairy warrior guys that made the Picts, Scots, and Welsh look like schoolboys in comparison.

These were men's men.

They were... the Vikings.

I'll stop here and we'll pick up on Monday with the Viking era."

Amidst the shuffling and scraping of books, papers, chairs, coats, and shoes that followed, Morengay held his hands up and raised his voice.

"One more thing. Since we're falling behind schedule already, I may simply change things so that we're conclusively ending in the mid 1400s. I would much rather you have a broader understanding of the basis for European history in several geographic regions as opposed to just rushing our way through centuries of history to try and catch up with the present without understanding the basis for and connections to and between various events and people. That's all. Have a great weekend!"

We exploded out into the hall, all of us, excited to finally have the tedium of the school week over with. Even the girl dashed off quickly to wherever it was she was going.

I thought about trying to catch her and make conversation, but changed my mind. There'd be time throughout the semester for that and besides, chatting up a girl is best done during the week or at a party.

And History class was no party.

[Izulde]

The weekend involved the usual beer pong playing, weed smoking, drunken partying, and everything else done to forget all the hassle of the school week. The only change in my routine is I didn't sleep with a random girl like I usually did. I couldn't get that girl from my history class out of my head.

Funny that I spent three days thinking about her and then I was two minutes late Monday morning, my head still throbbing a little from a nasty hangover. I slid into a back-row seat because I wasn't stupid enough to sit in the front where Morengay could see me.

When I looked up at the front of the room, I thought I was still stoned because it looked like there were -two- Prof Morengays. But then I looked a little closer and realized that the second prof was shorter, stockier, and had a red beard.

"Good morning, class" began Morengay brightly, "For the Viking era lecture, I thought I would bring in a guest lecturer so you didn't have to listen to me talk at you all the time. This is Professor Knud Knytling from the University of Copenhagen. He's here this semester as part of a cultural exchange between our two universities and his speciality is medieval history. He's agreed to teach this morning's lecture about Viking-era England."

The burly man nodded and made a short speech thanking Morengay for the opportunity to speak blah blah blah blah. I tuned him out and scanned the room, noting with considerable irritation that the girl wasn't present. As if my morning wasn't bad enough already.

When I finally turned my attention back to our guest, he's already begun his lecture.

"...King Aelle II of Northumbria's murder of Ragnar Lodbrok had severe consequences for his kingdom, for Ragnar's three sons, Ivar the Boneless, Halfdan Ragnarsson, and Ubbe Ragnarsson attacked Northumbria later that year with one of the largest forces of the era, the Great Danish Army, to avenge their father's slaying.

The kingdom of Northumbria fell in a year and by 870, the Vikings had also annexed East Anglia, forever after destroying it as a bastion for the Anglo-Saxons. In 871, another massive army, the Great Summer Army, arrived as reinforcement for the Great Danish area, defeating the Kingdom of Mercia by 874. Halfdan Ragnarsson marched north to conquer the Picts, which he did, eventually becoming King of Northumberland in 875.

In 876, Halfdan joined forces with the leader of the southern Viking armies, Guthrum, to penetrate deeper into Anglo-Saxon territory. Although Halfdan fell in battle in 877, Guthrum pressed on, only to be defeated by Alfred who the English call Great even though he really wasn't in 878. In the ensuing Treaty of Wedmore, Guthrum agreed to convert to Christianity and accept Alfred as his ruler in exchange for being allowed to rule the former territory of East Anglia and some ancillary possessions.

Despite Alfred's success in stopping the Viking expansion, the Danish presence was there to stay. In addition to ruling the southeast and the northeast kingdoms of the former East Anglia and Northumberland, there was also the Kingdom of Jorvik, founded by the incomparable Halfdan around the city the English call York. They also split the old Kingdom of Mercia between the English half in the west and the Danish half in the east.

The Vikings also influenced the English language, contributing many names and words that are still in use in today's modern English.

This concludes my part of today's lecture, because I know your Professor Morengay wants to get you to the Battle of Hastings."

Prof Morengay grinned then as he stepped to the lectern after Knytling and said the strangest thing:

"Knud Knytling, you're a genius!"

I didn't join in the hilarity that followed. It wasn't really that funny.

After the laughter died down, our regularly scheduled lecturer took on his teaching voice.

"While the Vikings did achieve impressive things, their time was not to last. Alfred the Great's defeat of Guthrum signaled that the time of the Danish as a power was coming to an end. In the decades that followed, Alfred and his successors Edward and most importantly Athelstan, built upon that watershed victory, the first truly unified kingdom of England occurring under Athelstan the Glorious.

Athelstan acquired a superb initial powerbase, inheriting the kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex. He strengthened that base by, much like Offa had centuries before, making a shrewd political marriage, in this case wedding his sister to the Viking king Sithric of York.

When Sithric died a year later, Athelstan took advantage, invading the Viking kingdom in the ensuing moment of weakness and annexing it into his domains. This gave him more territory than any previous British king and his sphere of influence grew to encompass the island as a whole when the other kings in Britain, including the king of the Cornish, the king of the Scots, and the king of the Welsh, among others, agreed to recognize him as their superior sometime in the 930s.

Despite the fact that Britain was at long last united under a ruler, the center, to parphrase Yeats, did not hold and Athelstan's successors were forced to deal with a dominion that fractured and re-formed repeatedly over the subesequent years. It was not until Edgar in 973 that the English kingdom was at last secure as a perpetuting, stable territory.

What wasn't secure was the line of succession. Although Edgar's son Ethelred the Unready inherited the throne, he lost control of the kingdom to King Sweyn I of Denmark, who invaded England in retribution for Ethelred's foolhardy decision to slay all the Danes in England, save for those who lived in the area that Guthrum had ruled over, called the Danelaw. Clearly Ethelred did not learn from a certain Northumbrian king's previous mistake.

This resulted in much of the 11th century being a battle for the English throne between the descendants of Ethelred and Sweyn respectively. a situation that reached its boiling point when Edward the Confessor died without heir in a year many of you are no doubt familiar with, 1066.

Harold Godwinson, Edward's deathbed appointed successor, was believed to be have bloodlines tracing back to Athelred on his father's side and much less tenuously connected by marriage to Sweyn I on his mother's side.

William of Normandy, a true bastard and illegimate, on the other hand, was the grandnephew of Queen Emma, who was wife to both King Ethelred and King Canute, son of Sweyn I, who ruled England following his father's death. As his claim was much more readily verified than Harold's, this gave him much more considerable strength in the succession dispute.

There were other claimants, most notably Edgar Atheling, grandson of King Edmund II of England, who succeeded the original unifier Aethelstan. Unfortunately, he was not yet old enough to succeed the throne, and so despite having the strongest claim, and despite being named the heir apparent by Edward the Confessor at one point, he was never able to realize his right to rule.

Instead, it fell to what so often has decided disputes in the history of the world, that of right by might and trial of arms. William, as many of you know, prevailed in this contest, defeating Harold at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Harold died during that battle and Edgar submitted to William in early December. With all rivals out of the way, William was crowned King of England on Christmas Day 1066 and thus the Norman era began.

But it must be remembered the old Saxon guard was not wholly defeated and the Scots and Welsh remained free of Norman oversight...

This concludes England. Wednesday we'll be taking a look at one of the other major powers in Europe, the Byzantine Empire."

I never cleared out of class so fast. My headache was much worse after all those names and dates.

[Celeval]

Very interested in reading this as it goes. Good story so far.

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by Celeval

Very interested in reading this as it goes. Good story so far.

Thank you! I enjoy it myself.

[Izulde]

I hate Wednesdays.

There isn't that afterglow of the weekend still on you and it's still a long ways to the next weekend.

But this Wednesday I didn't mind, because there she was in a white skirt and shirt, appropriately autumnal orange sweater draped over her shoulders. To be honest, it was more of a pale sherbet orange and it got me to thinking about another kind of cream I wanted to eat.

My private and tasty daydreams were interrupted by the arrival of a nondescript, chunky woman with short grey hair, the kind that would've been a libriarian if she hadn't become a secretary. In her hand was a goldenrod sheet and I smiled, because I knew what was coming.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to post this earlier, but Professor Morengay is absent today with the flu, so you will be not having class this morning."

Chatter began amongst the students that knew each other as everyone began packing up their stuff. The girl was swift about it and heading for the door right after the bearded guy who sat in the front row in the middle.

I quickly gathered my backpack in hand and darted after her.

"Hey, wait up!"

She stopped and turned.

I gave her my famous girlslaying smile.

Her face didn't change from its icy demeanor.

"My name's Nick."

"I'm Melody." Still frosty, but with a little more warmth.

I smiled more mutedly then and nodded, "Cool to meet you. Listen, I just wanted to let you know that if you're not doing anything this weekend, I and my fraternity brothers have a party going on at our house. We're the big blue and orange house, third one in Fraternity Row if you're coming at it from campus side."

"...Maybe. I'll think about it." Did nothing melt her? I've known some frigid girls in my lifetime and broken through more than a few, but she was sheer ice.

And it was beautiful. Like she had this whole world inside of her that was better than anything else in real life and you had to prove yourself worthy of being let in. There was a mysteriousness about her that I couldn't solve, a puzzle of who she really was that fascinated me, who could read just any woman after an hour's conversation.

"Okay, cool. See you Friday in any case."

I waved and nonchalantly walked off. When I glanced back, she was already gone, lost in the crowd of students bursting in a stream of people from the doors of our History room.

I'd never had a Friday so charged with anticipation, not even in high school during a certain Homecoming...

But that's a dusty story, belonging to an amateur past.

This was now, all childishness gone.

This was a real dream, the kind that can change your whole life.

[Izulde]

I haven't had a Friday this charged with anticipation since, well I don't remember when. I warned the brothers against acting like complete jackasses at the party that evening and told them they were not to infringe on my claimed rights, to which they quipped, "Dude, Nick, if she's as much an ice princess as you say she is, not even Terry McClintock could get her."

Terry McClintock. Class of 1992. Famous for not only banging and marrying a Miss USA contestant, but divorcing her four years later to go through a string of supermodels. He lives in Anaheim, California now, and is married for the second time, to a model who's the eldest daughter of a fairly well-to-do Swedish banker. His legend is one I've always aspired to live up to, but it's hard. Terry not only got the girls, but he was also president of our chapter, IFC, and Greek Council throughout his undergraduate years and he's the CEO of one of the most rapidly rising talent agencies in Southern California.

But that's all a moot point, I suppose. This is me and my story.

This was Melody looking scrumptious in lavender and white. I noticed even in the short time the class had been going that she had an obsession with pastel and white combinations. To be fair, they looked really, really good on her, but on the other hand, I longed to crack that icy veneer, get her into something bolder, get her to let her hair do, which she had in a sweeping updo that day.

Professor Morengay dispelled the idle clouds of my thoughts as he cleared his throat at the podium.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here Wednesday. A family emergency came up that I needed to attend to and it's one that may require me to cancel class again later this semester. In light of that eventuality, I'm revising the syllabus. We will be focusing in-depth on one particular European dynasty throughout the ages, from William's conquest of England onwards.

For the rest of the area around the world, I will assign readings that I'll put on reserve at the library dealing with royal familes in Southeast Asia and South America during the same time period. We will not be discussing that material in class, but you will be responsible for it on the examinations.

Now, with that said, we are going to hold a secret ballot vote right now, so that I can ascertain which family to discuss for the rest of the semester. You have your choice of Ireland, Spain, and what is today Germany to pick from. So all of you get out a piece of paper and write down the name of the country. When everyone's done, I'll collect the votes and announce the winner next time, since I unfortunately must leave after this."

As we started ripping out papers, I mulled over the choices. To be honest, I really didn't care where we studied. It was all the same to me.

"Wait a minute! Why isn't France an option?"

Heads swiveled and we all stared at Melody, her white cheeks flushed with indignation.

Professor Morengay hmmed and stroked his beard, leaning over the lectern and eyeing her with amusement.

"Why isn't France an option? Oh, very well, why not. Ladies and gentlemen, you can vote for France too, if you like!"

The class chuckled and set to writing down their votes.

So Melody wanted France, eh? Can we say golden opportunity? I quickly scribbled France in and passed my folded piece of paper in. After Morengay dismissed the class, I smoothly eased my way out to catch up with Melody.

"Hey, don't forget. Party tonight at the Theta Sigma Phi house. Stop by around 8."

"If I'm there, I'm there. If not, then not" she answered just as casually as I'd given the reminder, disappearing down the hall without turning around or even slowing.

A tough girl she was, one that definitely seemed to have an iron will.

The kind of girl that was a challenge.

The kind of girl I could fall for if I wasn't careful.

[Izulde]

She didn't show.

I spent all of Friday night waiting and waiting and waiting and she didn't show. I was so annoyed that I couldn't concentrate and was the first man out at the table, which irritated me even more.

On the one hand, I wasn't too surprised. She hadn't seemed very interested. But on the other hand, I was mad. How dare she pull that stunt! Who did she think she was, some beauty queen/cheerleader/sex goddess/heiress all rolled into one?

So as you can imagine, I was pretty grumpy come Monday morning. She was in class too, but I barely looked at her. I know enough about girls to know that persistence is not always the key. Too easy to make yourself look desparate and besides, I had a reputation to protect.

Fortunately Prof Morengay showed up fairly early and launched right into the lecture.

"France was the winner in the poll, but Germany, or better said during this time period, the Holy Roman Empire was a very close second. With that in mind, we will be focusing on the de Semur dynasty, who on the eve of William the Bastard's coronation ruled the border county of Chalons in the Kingdom of France."

He put a map up on his overhead and continued.



"I've outlined the county of Chalons in white for you all to see. At this time, France was ruled by the regency council of the child-king Phillipe Capet, but that's not important for the purposes of this lecture. What is important is that Chalons was ruled by the de Semur family, a populous but aging aristocratic dynasty that controlled every aspect of the county's life and occupied every position of importance within the court."



"This is Count Hugues de Semur, lord of Chalons on Christmas Day, 1066. He, like many of the de Semur men and women, had no spouse and so the first order of business was to secure the dynasty by arranging multiple marriages. By late January, he had succeeded in arranging matches for almost all of the people in his court, including his own."



"Humberge de Toulouse was the eldest daughter of the Count of Limosin, and although the Count had a son, Hugues hoped that he might produce an heir of his own that would be able to enter in to the county's line of inheritance."

"All of these marriages greatly enhanced Hugues's prestige and he decided to use his influence to expand the family's holdings. The Count of Forez and Lyon directly to the south of Chalons, as you can see on the map, was an independent noble. Since Lyon was both the closest territory to Chalons and the richer of the two provinces, Hugues and his advisors made up some cock and bull story about how Lyon rightfully belonged to the de Semur family, declared war and invaded.

The Count of Chalon's liege, the Duke of Burgundy, and Phillipe's regency council joined in support of their vassal and the ensuing campaign was so successful that the Count of Forez and Lyon recognized Hugues's right to rule Lyon even before both of his territories could be conquered and so it was that in early June of 1067, the de Semur dynasty doubled their land size.

Unfortunately the war also impoverished both Chalons and Lyon and conditions grew so bad in Chalons that thievery became rampant in the de Semur's ancestral province, leading to a considerable drop in monthly income. This problem would plague the de Semurs for some time, but happy news came on the 1st of February 1068 when Louis, a son, was born. In addition to being the heir to the de Semur dynasty, Louis was also third in line for the County of Limosin, accomplishing the hopes that Hugues had for his marriage.

With an eye towards further increasing the family's territory, Hugues made another claim in February 1069 on the anniversary of Louis's birth, this time on Forez. No action was taken at the time on it however, for the Count of Chalons and Lyon refused to risk damaging the family's name and influence by declaring war so soon after the earlier peace.

Instead, he ordered construction of a Court of Justice in Chalons to combat the banditry plaguing the capital province. The final bit of happy news came in early May, when a second son, Phillipe was born. Shortly thereafter, Hugues died unexpectedly, leaving his one year old son Louis to be the new Count of Chalons and Lyon and a long regency period lay ahead.

We'll stop there and pick up next time with Louis's reign."

I blinked, having dozed a little bit in the lecture and got up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I was still in something of a daze as I ambled out into the hall, so I didn't hear the voice at my ear at first.

"Nick! Hello, Nick! Are you alive?"

I turned my head and got alert in a hurry. Melody was in raspberry and white today and she actually had a smile, however small, on her face.

"Sorry I didn't go to your party Friday night. I decided I wanted to do research for a paper instead. It was rude of me to not let you know I wasn't coming. It's just... I don't trust fraternity guys. But it -was- really impolite of me, so to make it up to you, if you want, you can meet me Friday night for dinner at this great coffee shop on 9th street."

If I wanted? Hell, I was surprised she was even speaking to me, much less actually extending an invitation of her own free will for me to hang out with her.

"Sure, that'd be cool", I answered casually, "Why don't I get your number now while I'm thinking of it, so in case I don't know where exactly it is, I can call you and ask for directions."

Fifteen seconds later, I had the best string of digits I'd ever had on the back of my hand, my skin still warm and tingling with the blue ink from her pen, the memory of her hand brushing against mine as she wrote those precious numbers ringing a sweetly pleasant sensation throughout my entire body.

Maybe I had a chance after all.

[Izulde]

It's Wednesday. Today I'm just going to sit and take notes. You can't appear too eager with a girl after all or she'll realize she has control over you, treat you like a toy, get bored with you after a while, and discard you.

While that's all fine and good for a lot of the flings I've had over the years, Melody stirred something else in me, a sort of breathlessness I hadn't felt since sixth grade at the earliest, maybe even never.

Morengay's talking now. Time to listen.

"The suddeness of Hugues's death meant that it was not until mid-August that the regency council was finally in place and ready to begin ruling. There was much apprehension for the years ahead, as it would be a very long regency period and no one knew for certain just what kind of lord Louis would turn out to be. For the time being, he was being raised in a local monastary, where it was felt he would be safest from any who plotted to move against the de Semurs.

The regency council concentrated its efforts on reducing the crime rate in Chalons and in March of 1070, seven months before the Court of Justice was due to be completed, they managed to eliminate the last remaining gangs in the country. Construction still continued on the Court, however, as the burghers strongly requested it to help mediate business disputes that arose now and again. The decision to place Louis in the monastary proved wise, for his mother Humberge died in childbirth in April along with the child, leaving Louis and his brother Phillipe as the lone continuances of the senior de Semur line.

There was a negative effect to the monastary choice, however. It was considered a cowardly move by other aristocrats, who knew it for the defensive mechanism it was and so they thought Louis and the family as a whole the lesser for it. Their opinion changed drastically in April 1071 when King Sancho of Navarra, needing a new wife and one that would produce sons, and having heard of the de Semur's legendary masculine fecundity, came to Chalons to request the brilliant 19 year old Spymaster Hermengarde de Semur's hand in marriage. The regency council immediately agreed and so Hermengarde became Queen Hermengarde I of Navarra, the first de Semur to acquire a crown. To celebrate the nuptials, the council also ordered construction of a forestry in Chalons.

Later that month, the First Crusade was called to liberate Alexandria, but in Chalons and Lyon, they were too busy with local affairs to even think of entering the religious quest. The council did, however, catch enough of the religious fervour to pay for the appointment of the two counties' first bishop, 35 year old Robert of Chalons.

In August, Queen Hermengarde became queen of not only Navarra, but Aragon as well, for her husband Sancho successfuly conquered the neighboring Iberian Christian kingdom. There was still no heir on the way, however.

The regency council took advantage of the peaceful lull that had settled between the Forez and Lyon border to surprisingly declare war on the former county in December 1071. Artaud de Forez was completely unprepared and was routed by Marshal Geoffrey de Semur's forces. By June of 1072, Forez was made part of the de Semur lands, but the excessiveness of the regency council's demands, which included not only Forez but all of the gold in the treasury, caused some to accuse the family of heavy-handedness, though not too loudly for they were mindful of Queen Hermengarde. The damage to the council's influence was repaired and even improved all the more than it had ever been before when in September, at a double wedding, Marshal Geoffrey, wifeless after his first one passed away in childbirth along with the child, and Robert de Semur, a cousin only recently arrived at court, each married an accomplished woman named Filomenia, one an Occitan courtier from the Duchy of Toulouse, and the other an Italian courtier from the Duchy of Toscana reknowned for her absolute brilliance in all aspects of stewardship. The Italian Filomena's appointment to realm Steward made the de Semur's income even greater than it had ever been before.

A legitimate claim was discovered in February 1073, when close scrutiny of geanological records at the Royal Academy of Ancestry revealed that the de Semurs had the right to inherit the County of Sens to the northwest of Chalons. Although the matter wasn't pressed, it was one more situation for the regency council to keep its eye on. Happily, Queen Hermengarde I was pregnant at this time and all in the de Semurs hoped she might bear a son. Their prayers were answered in August when Crown Prince Garcia was born.

Hermengarde would in fact go on to bear three sons by 1077. During the intervening years, the de Semurs in France concentrated on a program of construction and economic advancement, but by April, the family was hungry for richer territory. Seeing an opportunity in the rebellious Republic of Ferrara, housed in the wealthy province of Bologna, a claim was fabricated and war declared in April. Aided by the powerful Robert Guiscard de Hauteville, the famed Duke of Apuila, the short but costly war was a triumph, Bologna added to the de Semur possessions in September. This brutal and opportunistic maneuver was unpopular throughout Europe, as the nobility angrily decried the regency council as overstepping its boundaries and so the de Semur reputation and influence fell drastically. Completion of the first library in Europe in Chalons mitigated much of the damage, however and the addition of Bologna to the de Semur lands nearly doubled the family income.

Although another legitimate claim was found on the County of Rosello in 1078, the de Semurs had no interest in encroaching on the Kingdom of Navarra's territory. In fact, with Bologna's wealth and the technology in place to build an actual castle, the family's concern became northern Italy as they sought to establish a Dukedom there and move the capital to their prized province.

In February 1080, receiving word that the Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich was excommunicated from the Church and aware that rebellion was rife throughout the Empire, the regency council claimed Ravenna and no one minded, nor were they surprised when war was again called, this time against the infidel Emperor. Peace was secured in November, the treasury only minimally effected as the campaign was brisk and efficient, even raising the influence of the de Semur family at the war's conclusion, for they asked little relative to the might of Marshal Geoffrey's armies and their conquests.

The effect of all these revolts in the Holy Roman Empire was to destroy it, so that by November of 1081, Heinrich willingly surrendered his title of Holy Roman Emperor to Godfried d'Ardennes, a minor count from a powerful German family. Godfried, aware that the Empire was dead, styled himself as the King of Germany, declaring that the Holy Roman Empire would live no more. Immediately two former imperial dukes pledged fealty to him, restoring some order to central Europe. Heinrich, on the other hand, had only two vassals left and now called himself, rather preposterously, the King of Burgundy and Italy.

But one kingdom's star was rising. France, unlike the Holy Roman Empire and unlike England to the north, was a peaceful realm, with loyal vassals and a strong government under the Capets. Since William's conquest, they'd added to their territory through the conquests of the de Semurs and by King Phillipe himself. The French now stretched down to both of the Mallorcan islands and into former imperial territories obtained from Heinrich. They also, thanks to the de Semurs, had a foothold in Italy.

And that foothold was strengthened on February 1, 1084 when, at Louis's 16th birthday celebration, he was coronated the Duke of Ferrarra in the new de Semur capital of Bologna.

The regency council was a smashing success."

Morengay grinned and actually stopped talking for the first time all hour.

"We'll stop there and pick up on Friday with Louis's actual reign."

My head hurt so much from all that talking, all I did was get out of there. Through my pounding haze, though, I noticed Melody staying to talk to the professor.

Probably something about France.

[Izulde]

Friday. An important day.

Melody smiles at me when she comes into class, wearing an uncharacteristic jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but it's not really so odd, for her jeans are white and her hoodie pretty, pale pink. It's also raining outside, a sudden burst and onslaught of rain that has an oddly pleasant sensation to it. Maybe it's just that I look forward to tonight.

Morengay at the lectern, map and image on the projector:





"At the start of his reign, Duke Louis had some housekeeping matters to take care of. Wanting to enhance his personal prestige to combat his naysayers, he decided to first find some vassals, second, locate spouses for himself and his relations who would becoming of age in the next few years and thirdly, declare himself to also be the Duke of Dauphine.

The most obvious target for vassalage was the County of Forez, uniformly considered the backwater province in the de Semur domain. Less clear was who should be made the new Count of Forez. Some argued that unattached courtiers who had no job would make the best candidates, but Louis wanted to keep it in the de Semur family. The difficulty in this was that should he designate a ruler, the sons and daughters he would come to rely on as his advisors would depart to inherit the moment their father died.

53 year old Robert de Semur, the heirless Spymaster, was a popular choice, but his wife was Stewardess Filomena, who was responsible for keeping the Duchy in such terrific financial condition. In the end, Louis chose to wait and see which of his younger relations looked the least promising before selecting the new Count of Forez.

What he did do very swiftly was to hold another coronation a few days after the one naming Duke of Ferrara, a smaller affair where he was named the Duke of Dauphine. This accumulation of dual ducal titles increased his acclaim significantly throughout Europe and he became much more respected as a result.

But the event that really made his influence soar throughout Europe was his marriage to Princess Toda Jimenez, eldest daughter of King Sancho of Navarra and Aragon from his first marriage. Popular history has it that it was none other than Queen Hermengarde de Semur herself who arranged the wildly successful match."



"With all of this sudden wealth of funds and celebrity throughout Europe, the temptation was quite strong for Louis to begin strongarming his way through whatever region he chose, but he prudently chose to stay his hand, concentrating on diplomatic affairs before searching for expansion possiblities.

The June marriage of two extraordinarily talented Hungarian girls from the court of the minor King of Hungary to Geoffrey de Semur the Younger after his first wife died and the recently matured Thibaut de Semur not only boosted Louis's prestige all the more, but gave the Duke the most talented chancellor in all of Europe at that time and a good enough Stewardess that he at last felt comfortable naming Robert de Semur the Count of Forez. Happily, Filomena decided to stay on in her position at the Bologna court rather than go with her husband to Forez, ensuring no decline in the de Semur wealth.

Another talented royal Hungarian courtier girl marriage to a de Semur occurred in March 1085, a month after a son and heir, Thomas, was born to Louis and Toda. This union, combined with the marriage of a de Semur girl to the Count of Weimar, meant that without any expansion of territory, Duke Louis de Semur of Ferrara and Dauphine was, at 16 years old, already one of the most prominent and highly regarded men in all of Europe.

This respect only grew a year later when Phillipe, Louis's younger brother, married Cecile Knytling, a Danish princess well-regarded for her diplomatic skills. As a wedding present, Louis gave Phillipe the County of Lyon to rule.

His familial and imperial affairs largely in order, Louis at last cast his eyes about for expansion and found none other than the one-province King of Italy and Burgundy, the unfortunate and despised Emich von Franken, son of the despised Heinrich von Franken. Declaring that no king, much less a dual king, should have just one province under his power, Louis claimed the crown of Italy for his own and went to war. In a remarkably short campaign, Thibaut de Semur, the 18 year old Marshal, son of Geoffrey the Elder and brother to to Geoffrey the Younger, proved worthy of his lineage, crushing and taking the von Franken province by June. Emich reluctantly agreed to cede the Italian crown to Louis.

In just 20 short years, the de Semurs had risen from Counts to Kings.

Louis immediately announced that no prior Kings of Italy would be recognized, nor any idea of the Kingdom of Italy in the past. Under his proclamation, the Kingdom of Italy began with his rule and he was King Louis I of House de Semur, ruler of the new Italian kingdom.

This did not set well in Europe, particularly with the Duke of Toscana, who admittedly had a much more legitimate right to the throne in terms of might, but there was nothing anyone could do at the moment but revile the once honorable Duke of Ferrara.

To make amends for his claim, the new monarch elevated his brother Phillipe to Duke of Dauphine and made Geoffrey de Semur the Younger Duke of Ferrara, granting him the province of Ravenna to rule. This did much to restore Louis's reputation in Europe and his generosity, despite its nepotic quality, made him once more respected.

This largesse was so well-regarded in fact, that shortly after his acension to the throne, Louis received requests for protection and vassalage from the regency councils in the Republics of Genoa and Pisa. While not fond in the least of the republican model of government and privately vowing to make them feudal Dukedoms as soon as he could manage it, Louis nonetheless happily accepted the offers of vassalage, for they did much to legitimatize his position. The Bishop of Parma and the Count of Ancona soon followed in pledging their fealty to the Italian crown.

But this slew of vassals came at a price, for the Governor of Pisa was at war with the the de Semur rival for Italian dominance, the Duchy of Toscana. Untroubled by this, Louis promptly claimed the right to rule Modena, a territory he'd had his eye on for some time, and declared war on the regents of Toscana in support of his vassal on August 4, 1086.

The war lasted a year and resulted in Toscana's giving King Louis Modena, but the capital city of Bologna was in revolt and historians have said that Louis was lucky that the Duchy suffered extreme war exhaustion of his own, for although Louis's brilliant generalship had won him battle after battle when he was greatly outnumbered and would've lost if not for his exceptional sense of tactics, time was not on his side. His early successes in capturing many of the personal domains of the Duke were critical to his victory. The treasury was also bankrupted from the campaigns.

But a victory it was and one that signaled to Europe that Louis was a monarch to take seriously. The rest of the summer of 1087 was spent finding brides for two of his cousins and a great coup was obtained in mid-August when Charles de Semur wed Princess Arsinde Capet of France. There was no greater possible sign of the de Semur might, that their former liege now married one of his daughters to one of the lesser branches of the family. Even more encouraging, any sons out of the union would have a claim on the throne of France and might well directly inherit, for Arsinde was the eldest daughter and just one of King Phillipe's sons lived.

It was unthinkable that barely two decades after William's conquest, the de Semurs might wear three crowns, for Hermangarde still ruled as Queen of Navarra and Aragon.

But all was not well in that sphere.

We'll stop there and pick up on Monday."

...Damn the prof. He's actually telling an interesting story and I'm finding myself wanting to find out what happens next.

But on to more important things.

I see Melody out in the hall and I catch up to her.

"Hey, we're still on for tonight, right?"

It's always good to make sure plans don't go suddenly awry.

..From the look on her face, they may just have. She's chewing on her lower lip and glancing out the window at the rain.

"...Actually, I was thinking with this weather, the coffee shop's going to be too crowded. I don't like crowds. But I do want to make it up to you... Tell you what, give me your number and I'll call you later today when I figure something out."

I nod and tear off a sheet of paper from my notepad, scribbling my number down and handing to her.

"Don't let it get wet in the storm now," I grin, "Or you might have to come to that horror of horrors, the fraternity house, to get it back."

She arches one eyebrow at me as she folds the paper and slides it into her backpack.

"You'd be the one out of luck, Nick. After all, I don't go to fraternity houses, remember? Better hope my backpack's as waterproof as the manufacturer says it is."

And then she's nonchalantly walking off down the hall, walking off with my number, my Friday night plans, and the last word all to herself.

This isn't supposed to happen. But like the story Prof. Morengay's telling us about that family, I'm drawn in.

The suspense... may well kill me.

[Izulde]

I'm doing some studying when my cell phone rings. I check the number and it's Melody's.

"Hi, Nick."

Her voice sounds lighter, softer on the phone than in person. I like it. It's sweeter, more delicate.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Not much. Listen, I did some thinking and would Armando's be all right with you?"

I nearly drop the phone in my shock. Armando's is the best restaurant in town and with the prices to match. It's the sort of place people go for major celebrations like graduation, weddings, retirements... or a very, very important date.

"Sure, that'd be cool" I answer as steadily as I can.

"Great, I'll see you there at seven, then."

"Sounds good."

We make our goodbyes and I'm left sitting there, still gaping. Armando's?! That was her idea for something to replace the coffee shop? This called for a verification of the thoughts running through my head.

I went up to Drake's room and knocked on the door. Drake was the other suave guy in the house, but unlike me, he was taken and very much so, by one of the Delta Chi Deltas. They're the pretty sorority on campus, in case you wondered.

He opened the door and ushered me in. His room's very neat, very tidy. Not like mine, which tends to get a little messy, to be honest. But then, there's not much to his room, either.

"How can I help you, Nick?" he grins, his bushy goatee shot through with streaks of red in the fading afternoon sunlight.

"There's this girl in one of my classes. She just invited me to dinner at Armando's tonight, so I figured I'd come up and get your oh so expert advice on it." I can't help smirking as I say that. The idea of me of all people needing advice with women was an absurd one if you know my reputation.

His eyes grow large, "Wait, -she- asked -you-?! Hmmm... tell me more about this girl."

"Well, she dresses real stylish, real preppy every day as far as I've seen. Real smart, too. Talks to the professor after class and stuff."

Drake nods sagely, sitting down in the only chair in his room and looking thoughtful as he steeples his fingers together.

"Sounds like you've got a rich girl on your hands, then. Though I have to wonder why she's going here of all places. I mean, shit man, this is a public school. Why isn't she going to Thornton?"

Thornton, -the- most prestigious private college in the state. The kind where you need parents with a high six figure income, a legacy connection, or the kind of perfect application that could get you into a place like Yale or Princeton.

"I don't know", I admit, "But something tells me I should go with the suit here. It runs the risk of being overdressed, but I don't want to go looking like a scrub either, because you -know- she's going to be well put together."

"I agree", Drake confirms, "By the way, how does she feel about fraternities."

I can't help but laugh darkly at that. How does she feel about fraternities indeed.

"She hates them and doesn't trust them."

"Good! Wear your active pin, then. Go without it and you'll look like a pushover."

I doubt the wisdom of that move, but Drake's the one with the woman. I'll be honest, I haven't been in an actual relationship in a long time. It's been too easy, too fun, too comfortable just sticking with the variety and freedom of short flings, one night-stands and that sort of thing. So I just nod.

We talk a little bit more about some other things and then I leave to shower and get dressed.

About an hour and a half later, I'm standing in front of the mirror, dressed in my sharp-cut, $250 three piece black suit with gold tie. Plain colors, sure, but I've always been pretty conservative when it comes to what I wear. Got to stick with what's fashionable, what's safe.

In my fingers is my fraternity pin. Theta Sigma Phi. One of the most prestigous national fraternities and one that's been around for a long time. Our pin is taken largely from our crest and is a gold circle on which is emblazoned a purple dragon, a certain sword in his left claw, a specific book in his right. No, I can't tell the meaning of it all. Fraternity secrets, you know.

I put the pin on my shirt, over my fast-pounding heart and make the last-minute adjustments before grabbing my keys off the shelf and heading out.

Twenty minutes go by and I'm walking inside Armando's, all candlelight, cherry wood, Italian paintings that are probably fakes, and the three waterfalls, one large, two small, that are the most famous part of the restaurant's interior.

A thin, pale maitre'd asks me for my reservation and not knowing what else to say, I give him Melody's name. He eyeballs me suspiciously a moment, as if in spite of the suit, I wasn't the type who should be in his restaurant.

Then he leads me to small, two-person table that has one of the best views in the whole place and there, looking stunning in a pale blue sequinned dress that matches her eyes is Melody.

A sparkling, sapphire bracelet adorns her slender white wrist, matching earrings nestled against the most shapely, exquisite ears I've ever seen or ever will see.

It's all I can do not to stare as the maitre'd ushers me to my seat. I sit down and Melody smiles slightly at me, a smile that's all the prettier for its understatedness.

And then she speaks.

[MrBug708]

Izulde - Have you ever been to a Renassiance Faire? I think you'd like it...

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by MrBug708

Izulde - Have you ever been to a Renassiance Faire? I think you'd like it...

Been to two of them The one in Bristol, WI sucks hardcore and the one in San Diego was a lot of fun.

My best friend and her husband are both Rennies and have had their own shows with other people, the former being just in Pittsburgh for a few years, the latter a national act that toured the country.

Others of my friends, including the one that worked with my best friend in her show, have also been Rennies.

The whole political and economic landscape of Renaissance Faires behind the scenes is an endlessly fascinating one for a Rennie-friend like me. Although I've joked about becoming a working Rennie myself, I really don't see it happening. The acting talent I had when I was a kid (to where my parents were on the verge of moving us to California so I could pursue a career in it) is long since atrophied and I'm not nearly outgoing enough anymore for that line of work (though again, when I was a kid, I was extremely gregarious and extroverted).

[Izulde]

"Good evening, Nick. It's nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you too. You look beautiful."

She smiles her thanks as I sit down, my heart pounding like it hasn't in years, maybe in forever. To distract myself, I pick up the menu and open it, only to stare in silent horror.

It's all in Italian. I can't read a word.

When I lower the menu, Melody's slight smile is there again.

"Sorry about that. I forget not everyone who comes here knows the menu's in Italian, but let's see if I can guess what you'd like."

As she stares at me thoughtfully, her nose scrunched so cutely in concentration I almost can't stand it, I feel the beginnings of anger bubbling in my stomach. I have a feeling I know what's going on here and I don't like it.

"Ah! I think I have it! Steak, well-done."

...How did she know that? I laugh in spite of my irritation, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I don't know how you did it, but-"

"-You'll have the salad as well", she interjects, "It's healthy for you and quite tasty."

Our waiter comes before I can object and she places the order in Italian so fluid it's like she's fluent or something. And then she adds, "Just put the bill on my account. I'll settle it with Bernie next week."

I'm on my feet the instant the server's away.

"Look, Melody, I know what you're trying to pull here. The powerplay, oh look at me I'm so rich and cool and sophisticated. I'm not an idiot. This.is.bullshit. Enjoy your meal. I'll be damned if I'm going to be your little joke for the evening. Goodbye."

I whirl around, my face angry in its redness. Who the hell does she think she is anyway?

And then she speaks, her voice calm and cool.

"If you want to have a chance at all with me, Nick, you'll come back here, sit down, and calm down."

Is there nothing this girl doesn't know? I want to keep walking, marching right on out that door, but my feet betray me and before I know it, I'm scraping my chair back into the table and sighing.

"That's better", she smiles, "You have to understand something. I eat here twice a week, sometimes three. What's a fast food meal to you is eating here for me. So put your male pride away and relax. It's a beautiful evening and we should be enjoying it."

I have to rally against this somehow. She can't hold all the cards. I'm panicking and I don't know what to do. I'm the one who's supposed to know what's what and leading in this dance.

"Beautiful evening? Oh, I don't know about that one. It's pretty nasty out there with the thunderstorm", I counter easily enough, regaining my composure.

"But we're here, having a delicious meal and hopefully enjoying each other's company. It's a clean, well-lighted place and a cozy restaurant we're in, so let's just have fun, hmm?"

She's right. Well, except for the cozy restaurant part. This place is bigger than some five-star hotel lobbies.

I'm saved from further commentary by the arrival of a wine bottle that's probably an entire semester's tuition. The waiter pours some into each of our glasses and I sip. Thank God, it's red. I don't think I could take white in this instance.

We spend the time before our food arrives chatting about our classes, our professors, safe topics like that. It's evident she's an upperclassman, as we've had a few of the same gen ed profs and besides, we wouldn't be sharing the wine otherwise. That makes her at least 21. Good information to know for later, if indeed there is a later.

Our salads come first and we're both silent as we eat and take occasional sips of wine. I've never had vegetables so crisp and delicious before and whatever they use to flavor the salad with makes it absolutely exquisite. If all vegetables tasted this good, I'd be tempted to become a vegetarian.

That is until the steak arrives.

It's juicy, tender, and cooked through perfectly. Not an ounce of pinkness to it, yet the flavor is still preserved. I think all steaks after this will be ruined for me.

She has some sort of lasagna with all kinds of stuff on it that I have no clue what it is. She seems to be enjoying it, though. We don't talk as we're eating the main course, either. I like that. I hate talking when I'm eating. I just want to savor the food, relax and indulge in the experience of eating. It's something my fraternity brothers sometimes have trouble understanding.

The server clears our plates away when we're finished and we sit for a few moments, quietly luxuriating in the pleasure of a terrific meal. I'm just about to comment on how good everything was when she suddenly leaps up, grabs me by the hand and pulls me towards the door.

"Wait... where are we going?" I protest.

"You're going to buy me dessert."

[Izulde]

We went to a bakery and ice cream shop that stays open late for dessert. She got mint chocolate chip and I chose chocolate chip cookie dough. The fact that we both got some kind of chocolate chips involved led to a discussion about those Nestle chip morsels and we arranged to meet Wednesday afternoon for a morsel tasting session.

I know I'm bringing butterscotch for uniqueness.

But it's not Wednesday yet. It's only Monday and that means Morengay, looking too damn cheerful for a Monday morning class.

"Welcome back! I hope you all enjoyed your weekend! I know I did mine!"

As the class laughed, he put up his latest map on the overhead and settled into lecture mode.



"When we met last time, I mentioned at the end of the period that the kingdom of Navarre and Aragon was in trouble and indeed it was, for a vassal of the King of the Zirids, a massive Muslim empire, ruled the capital province of Navarra. Making matters even worse, as this map shows, Navarra-Aragon was dwarfed in size and importance by the Kingdom of Leon, the light blue blob occupying most of the middle of Iberia. The reconquest was definitely being run by Leon, with Navarra-Aragon only an afterthought.

Still more troubling, as I may have mentioned last time, was King Sancho's excommunication from the Church, leading to a circling vulture effect."

He paused as he changed maps, then continued.



"The Kingdom of Italy, light green and outlined in red here, was also still in a tenuous position. As I've said before, King Louis I was in a tense archrivalry with the Duke of Toscana for control of northern Italy and had just won a major war which netted him Modena.

There was still great cause for concern though, as Italy's French possessions and the vassal Republic of Pisa were both cut off from the main body of the kingdom's territory.

Then on September 6th, 1087, a startling offer came from Duke Friedrich d'Ardennes of Toscana. He suggested that the Duchy of Toscana and the Kingdom of Italy ally, so that between the two of them they would be the unchallenged masters of northern Italy. Louis immediately accepted. Historians have suggested that the reason for the Duke of Toscana's offer was that he feared French and German incursions into Italy and furthermore, he was frightened by the Italian military might as displayed in the previous war.

Bolstered by this news, Louis arranged one of his many double marriages as a celebration. Manasses de Semur and Charles de Semur, recently come of age, both married Jimenez girls from Navarra-Aragon, further increasing the ties between the de Semurs and the Jimenezs. A third de Semur-Jimenez marriage followed some months later, two weeks before completion of a castle in Bologna.

King Louis was ecstatic with this new castle. Although considered a small one, Castle de Semur, as it was eponymously called, was far grander than anything the de Semurs had lived in before and it truly elevated the province of Bologna to a higher plane.

With this elevation came repeated calls from the Papacy for the Kingdom of Italy to take part in the crusade against the Muslims. Although Jeruselam was the intended target, the Holy See felt any dead Muslim and any reconquered territory would suffice and so in June 1088, King Louis answered the holy calling and declared war on the Shiekdom of Agrigento, the smallest of the Muslim shiekdoms on the island of Sicily.

It was a conquest that should've gone off without any problems. Unfortunately, Marshal Thibeaut de Semur was found guilty of witchcraft to ensure their victory on the voyage at sea and the captain on board his ship ordered him hanged posthaste and he was. Thus, it was to be the Republic of Genoa's marshal who took command and conquered Agrigento.

A month and a year later, in July 1089, opportunity again arose in Sicily. The County of Messina and the Shiekdom of Siracusa were at war with one another. Louis declared war on Siracusa and set off for Sicily. Siracusa conquered Messina before the Italian armies got to the island, but Louis, personally leading an army of over 5,500 men from different parts of Italy, swiftly conquered Siracusa and Messina and spent the next two years crushing the remaining Muslim rulers, including the mighty Shiek of Palermo. By March 1091, all of Sicily's main island flew the Italian flag.

Even more important than the new wealth and land Louis gained was the fact that the island's conquest dealt a major blow to the de Hautevilles in Apuila's hopes of becoming Kings of Naples. While it was still possible for southern Italy's most powerful family to themselves be crowned, they could afford no room for error in taking the other domains that made up the kingdom.

Unfortunately, with great conquest came great war debt, so that King Louis was forced to call for all sums of money possible from the Estates General. While significantly impacting his prestige, the loss was made up for both by his incredible victories and the joining of the Count of Urbino and the Bishop of Piombino as Louis's direct vassals.

In any case, there could be no doubting the might of the de Semur family now. With their main rivals as allies and their magnificient campaign of conquest in Sicily, the house that wore Italy's crown was certainly a Mediterranean power to be reckoned with.

But the kingdom was still not wholly united and until that goal was achieved, Italy could not become one of the truly great European giants, a mighty kingdom in the manner of France, Germany, and England.

And it was that quest that the de Semurs took on.

We'll stop here. Have a good day everyone!"

I couldn't help liking the de Semurs. They started off as really nobody, tiny fish in the great big pond of France and in what, 25 years? they became this really awesome dynasty, one that played it smart from the looks of things and didn't get into what they couldn't handle.

Maybe that's the lesson I wasn't following. Maybe Melody was too much for me to handle.

Or maybe, just maybe, as I'm watching the door she just walked out of, maybe I'm like the de Semurs, a tiny fish in the great ocean of Fraternities, ready to break out and win the heart of a Queen.

[Izulde]

Wednesday morning. My mind's on tonight, but I force myself to listen to Morengay's lecture and take notes. Don't want to flub this class in my graduation semester.

"After his smashing Sicilian success, Louis I let things stay peaceful so that the scarred counties and ravaged treasury could heal. His agreement to alliance with Duke Friedrich proved an even wiser move when Friedrich became King Friedrich I of Germany in late August, 1091. Had the two not been allied, it's very likely some of the de Semur possessions would have been lost in a war of conquest, for monarchial Germany proved to be just as strong if not stronger than the old Holy Roman Empire.

What this also meant was that the Italian prospects for expansion in the north were now quite limited. So Louis came up with a cunning plan. Desiring to acquire more territory and recognizing Sicily as an excellent base, he claimed his right to become Duke of Calabria and declared war on the de Hautevilles on New Year's Eve, 1091.

Although the move was greatly disapproved throughout Europe, as was an exorbiant bleeding of the Estates General to pay for the war effort, another brilliant military campaign carried out by Louis's personal Bologna, Modena, Messina, and Siracusa regiments resulting in a resounding victory over the once feared de Hautevilles and Guy de Hauteville was forced to sign a treaty in September 1092 naming Louis Duke of Calabria and surrendering all claims to the County of Messina.

In December, the Archbishop of Toscana, who'd broken away from King Friedrich of Germany over religious differences, asked Louis to accept him as a vassal. The de Semur family, as you can imagine, was only quite happy to oblige and the provinces of Siena and Firenze joined the kingdom. This was crucial for two reasons. First, it put virtually all of northern Italy under the Kingdom of Italy's power and second, it connected two disparate parts of the Italian kingdom and provided the de Semurs a strong core and power base from which to operate. Rudolf von Wettergau, the German Duke of Spoleto, pledged fealty to Louis a months later, giving Italy a province right next door to the de Hautevilles, the strategic importance of which should be quite obvious.

Over the next year, Louis created several Dukedoms out of the kingdom's expanded territory, handing them out to vassals he favoured, only one of whom was a de Semur, Manasses, elevated from Count of Trapani to Duke of Sicily. This lack of nepotism pleased people throughout the Kingdom, although I have to tell you that he made certain not to elevate any Germans into ducal positions, instead giving them to Italian and French counts and bishops whenever he could.

But it was the acceptance of vassalage from the 63 year old Duchess of Lombardia, Giacinta d'Attala in October 1093 that changed everything, for the Duchess was fighting for her freedom from none other than King Friedrich of Germany.

King Louis I of Italy believed in defending his vassals.

It was a war that would shake the continent.

A war... you'll hear about come Friday."

I, along with the rest of the class, surprised myself by groaning in disappointment at his cliffhanger. It was a rotten thing to do, getting us all interested and then teasing us like that.

As if I wasn't already anticipating enough as it was about tonight and those tasty Nestle's morsels and some other certain kinds of morsels.

[Izulde]

"I'm sorry, Nick, but it just wouldn't taste right. You understand, don't you?"

Her voice is raspy, so unlike the sweet, smooth tones I'd grown used to hearing. But there's still that disappointment, that sinking feeling that comes from the bottom of something you've looked forward to a lot dropping out.

"It's cool. You're right, stuff just doesn't taste good when you've got a cold."

I hear the smile in her voice, altered though it is.

"Exactly! We'll reschedule when I'm feeling better."

We hang up with that promise, but it's one I don't really believe right now. Despite my growing mistrust of the situation, ten minutes later I find myself making a bowl of chicken noodle soup and covering it in a wrap to keep it cool.

Another ten minutes and I'm at the front desk of her dorm, telling the student clerk that it's for Melody, the one with the blonde hair. I feel stupid not having her last name, or her room number, but she only ever gave me the dorm she lives in.

Fortunately the clerk knows who she is and promises to take it to her.

No, I won't go up and see her. The soup's enough.

[Izulde]

We're all in anticipation this Friday morning, waiting to hear how this war turned out.

Prof Morengay's grinning as he puts his map up on the overhead.



"What we have here is the continental situation between Italy and Germany during the Lombardia War as it came to be called. Both kingdoms were made up of disconnected power centers, making a swift conclusion quite difficult. You'll notice that Sicily is not on this map.

With claims on Lucca, Ferrara, and Mantua in hand, King Louis I declared war and battle was joined. After a series of initial promising victories, the Italians were dealt a terrible blow in Cremona and Bologna, as the bulk of the continental Italian forces were crushed by the German menace. Left with no choice but to call up the Sicilian reigments, Louis did so with a heavy heart and also requested aid of certain of his vassals, which they readily lent. These vassals were able to secure several important victories in German royal possessions, but the September 1094 Battle of Modena resulted in Louis's Sicilian regiments being crushed by Duke Magnus Billing of Saxony and Brunswick, an annihilation nearly as brutal as the whipping the Duke of Alsace gave Louis in the Battle of Cremona some months before.

Despite the difficulties, Louis managed to scrap together enough troops from his remaining vassals and the reserves from Siracusa to engage in another series of quick conquests of King Friedrich's personal domains. By late May 1095, most of the German king's lands were in Louis's hands and a valiant assault by the remnants of the Palermo regiment along with the Siracusa regiment freed Bologna and Modena. Sensing war weariness on his opponent's part and knowing that he would never be in a better position against the Germans, King Louis sent an envoy to Friedrich in Modena offering peace in exchange for Lucca, Ferrara, and Mantua. Friedrich, wishing to hurry back to his capital province that was under siege and deal with other wars, quickly agreed.

And so in one sense, the Lombardia War was a success. The Kingdom of Italy gained three very valuable new territories in their quest to consolidate their northern Italian core. But the treasure was over 1,600 florins in debt, which at that time was a monstrous sum, in the several hundred millions, possibly even single billions by today's standards. The rest of Europe also looked down on Louis for grabbing those domains when they felt he didn't really deserve them. The war also failed in its original intent, to save the Duchess of Lombardia, who died without heir before the war ended. What will be important to remember later on, however, is that King Friedrich of Germany did not keep the land when it reverted to him. Instead, he named a new Duke of Lombardia and Count of Grisons.

Of course, despite the fact that there was a massive war debt, it must be remembered that the Kingdom of Italy was, in fact, extremely wealthy, so that by early fall 1096, roughly half of the debt was paid and another year or two would be sufficient to bring the kingdom back to solvency, provided no other conflicts broke out. Louis's reputation was also on the mend. While still regarded with some suspicion by his fellow monarchs, their trust was gradually coming back.

Two other important things happened that autumn. First, King Louis, who'd done so much for his family and had made the kingdom of Italy what it was, fell ill. Second, he discovered the territory he wanted to conquer next and resolved that when both he and the treasury recovered, he would go to war to get that piece of land.

But that... will come Monday! Have a good weekend!"

As I walk out of the room, I glance at Melody's empty seat. Guess she was telling the truth about being sick.

[Izulde]

Monday morning. I'm too hung over for this, but I pop a couple Advil and trudge into class. Melody's there, but since I come in through the back door, it's only her back I see as I take my seat. After class. Yeah, I'll talk to her then.

Morengay looks profanely cheerful as he always does at the start of a week and launches right into his lecture without preamble.

"Last time, I told you that King Louis I of Italy had in mind the land he coveted, but before I get into that, I should mention that William the Bastard, the famous conqueror of England, finally died in 1096 and his son Robert came to the throne. Robert, recognizing that he needed a powerful ally to keep his realm in order, sent an envy to Louis, asking for an alliance. King Louis I replied back and I quote, "You are a worthless dog. Though the Church sanctified your birth, you are a sniveling fool, worth less than a single hair on your mighty and worthy father's head. We will never join hands with a pigdog like you."

The class laughs and my head throbs. Just shut up, will you? Fortunately, they soon do, and Morengay continues.

"That was not the only event of fall, for in October, a Muslim revolt broke out in Palermo. Louis ordered his then-Marshal, 64 year old Severo Toccelli, to slay the rebels and convert the rest of the province to Catholicism, by the sword if necessary. Severo readily complied and the citizenry, seeing the writing on the wall, became Catholic everafter. Severo was also appointed Italy's archbishop upon the death of longtime curate Robert of Chalons for his zealotry in carrying out this task.

In November, the whole kingdom breathed a sigh of relief as Louis recovered from his illness. Archbishop Toccelli was quick to proclaim that it was the king's just reward for saving so many souls in Palermo.

The new year in 1097 presented Louis with a golden opportunity. The Duke of Lombardia foolishly broke away from the Kingdom of Germany and the Kingdom of Italy swarmed in, declaring war and Louis's right to the title via that former vassal who was the cause of the Lombardia War I talked about a couple of class periods ago. The conflict proved a leisurely, easy one and by May, Louis was the Duke of Lombardia, with the Bishop of Cremona as his new vassal. The king did not hold the title long, but instead elevated his faithful direct vassal, the Bishop of Piombiono, to the position of Archbishop of Lombardia.

In May of 1098, the debt was finally paid off and the Count of Parvia, the former Duke of Lombardia, become Louis's vassal. The de Semur stranglehold over northern Italy was more or less complete. But the Italian king dreamed of still more wealth and so as a celebration of the new financial stability and vassal, he issued an edict saying that the county of Provence belonged to him and he gave orders for war.

In response, the recently promoted Archbishop of Lombardia, calling Louis, and I quote, "a godless heathen who will be the ruin of us all" declared independence. After Louis successfully annexed Provence in a short war, he turned his fury upon the rebel vassal and in an even shorter conflict, not only took both Piombino and the Duchy of Lombardia back, but forced the upstart to recognize him as the sole person with right to the Italian throne.

This last forced concession angered vassals throughout Europe who harbored throne ambitions of their own and Louis's reputation plummeted, rising only marginally when he restored the title of Duke of Lombardia to the infant Count whose father had originally held it. In truth, on the one hand this was actually quite the dangerous and stupid move on Louis's part, because the child's heir, should he die without issue, was none other than King Friedrich of Germany. But on the other hand, it brought the Count of Grisons into the Italian kingdom's fold, so it was a worthwhile calculated gamble. This gamble became immaterial in August of 1099 when Grisons fell back into German hands.

About this time in 1099, the Pope called for a Holy Crusade to Alexandria. Given Italy's closeness in proximity to Rome and the kingdom's military might, there was a certain expectation that the de Semurs should be active participants in the crusade, but Louis did not immediately answer the call. He was too busy using money gotten from the Estates General to improve his personal domains, including another castle, this time in Modena, as part of a planned series of castles in the core of his Italian possessions. Furthermore, having very recently allied with the King of France, Louis feared that his new royal friend would take advantage of any war against the heatens to gain territory, money, and prestige for his own pockets, particularly as France had already had significant holdings in the Holy Land.

But then 1100 arrived and with the new century, Louis was seized by a newfound conviction that to go to war against the Muslims would be to enhance his suffering standing, and so he marched in January for Alexandria itself.

This Holy Crusade was so enthusiastically supported by the Church that Louis became reknowned as a great crusader and 1800 armed men blazing with religious fervor came to Bologna to pledge their swords, bodies, and souls to the mission.

On December 1, 1100, eleven months to the day after Louis left Bologna, Alexandria was his. A wealthy city with strong defenses, it was on par with Palermo in its economic and military might and in strategic location, equal to Bologna. The Crusade was a success.

But it was not without its drawbacks. An old Muslim man came to the court and since Italy needed a marshal, Louis put him in charge of the military. This led to a Papal fury that was quite costly in the indulgence it demanded and word began to spread that Italy's king was a sceptic. This did not, however, prevent him from being considered universally pious after his conquest in North Africa. His old marshal, Raymond Bourbone, helped to spread word of the king's piety when he conquered Gabiyaha next door to Alexandria and took the province for himself.

This was, it should be noted, also not the end of war with the Egyptian shiekdom, nor in fact did Louis manage to hold on to Alexandria... but that.... shall wait for next time!"

I'm getting used to his cliffhangers now.

I walk as quietly and steadily as I can out the door. Luck's on my side for once because Melody's late getting out.

"Nice to see you back and healthy!" In spite of my pain, I can still grin at her.

"Thanks", she answers noncommitally before tilting her head at me, "Sorry I had to cancel, but to make it up to you, clear your schedule this weekend. Forget your fraternity brothers, forget the lame parties and all that."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows. Making it up to me. -Those- were famous last words.

"Yes. You're spending the weekend with me. I'll pick you up at 7."

And before I can answer, she's gone in a whirl of blonde hair and a perfume I can't name.

I'm left standing there wondering what the hell just happened. Must be the same feeling good old King Louis must have had when he lost Alexandria or whatever.

...I need a Bloody Mary.

Back to the house I go.

[Izulde]

Only the lecture today. That' s all I'm going to concern myself with this Wednesday. I'm going to ignore the fact that Melody's wearing a short white skirt and a form-fitting pale orange blouse. Not going to pay attention to that at all. Is that a hint of cleavage I see as she's walking towards her seat from the front door?

The whine of the overhead projector firing up breaks my distraction, as does the inevitable picture that Morengay slides up.



"This is the situation in Croatia as of May 1103, three and a half years after King Louis took control of Alexandria. Croatia was where the sheik of Egypt fled and was building a new kingdom and where Louis pursued him. By this time, Alexandria had fallen back into Muslim hands and it now belonged to the caliphate of Cyrenaica, which was quickly replacing Egypt as the dominant North African Islamic power.

Louis was aided in his Croatian campaign by the Dukes of Rashka and Karten, but what's interesting to note is that the Italian king had very little interest in the region. He simply wanted to flush the Muslims out from being too close to Italy for his comfort.

Over the next two years, as the war raged on, several of Louis's relatives came to distinguish or shame themselves on the battlefield as the case may be."

Morengay changed the map for a series of portraits, which he explained one by one.



"This is Thomas de Semur, King Louis's eldest son. He was not in line to inherit the throne because under the de Semur laws of inheritance established shortly after they came into possession of Chalons, only the strongest son could receive the title. This turned out to be a wise move, for Thomas embarassed himself greatly. He lost numerous battles with the Bolognan regiment and also managed to become wounded in one of those poorly mismanaged conflicts. I'm sure it'll come as no surprise to you that Louis considered his eldest a disgrace to the de Semur name."



"Here's Nazareno de Semur, who I forgot exactly what his relation to King Louis was, but he was part of the bloodline somehow. Appointed to the command of the capital regiment after Thomas's ineptitude, he successfully helped to turn the tide of the war back in favor of the Italians. As a sign of his skill in war, he conquered the county of Zadar and declared himself the ruler there under Louis's banner. Louis, pleased with Nazareno's efforts, let him keep the title with his blessing.



"Like Nazareno, I don't remember just where he fit in the scheme of the bloodline, but this guy was incredible. The Marshal of the Italian armies, he almost singlehandedly saved Louis's Croatian war from ending in disaster with extremely innovative and ingenious tactics, some of which were still being used centuries later and have been adapted to business form today. He wrote a book titled The Invocation of Victory, in which he outlined his strategems and advice. If any of you happen to run across a copy of it, I urge you to read it. Brilliant writing and some hilarious ancedotes.

He also consulted with what passed for the engineering and architectual communities in Italy at the time and helped them to create the designs for a much larger and more formidable castle in Bologna, one that Louis hoped to have built once he was finished meddling in Croatia.

The whole Kingdom of Italy was sent into mourning in the fall of 1105. King Sancho Jiminez of Navarra and Aragon was killed in battle against Muslims and his sons, too, perished in a campaign as long and drawn out as the de Semur efforts in Croatia. Thus, a de Barcelona now ruled. Not only was the Spanish king dead, but Louis's own beloved second son, Steward Jimeno, who professed such love for the Castillian lifestyle. He, too, fell in war.

A week after Jimeno's death, Thomas died of his own war injuries that had pestered him for so long. It was a sorrowful time all throughout Italy, even in spite of the military successes and the agony was only added to in December when Callisto, the Count's fourth son, died of pneumonia. Now only Louis's chosen heir, Arnaud and Yves, a fifth son lived.

By early 1108, Louis was in control of Croatia and no Muslims remained. Despite this fact, the Caliph of Egypt stubbornly refused to make peace. Nonetheless, Louis disbanded his troops in the field and set about the task of reorganizing his Croatian lands.

In September 1108, what Louis feared would happen with the Duchy of Lombardia did, to a degree. The title was inherited by the Duke of Alsace, the King of Germany having been forced to surrender his title in a earlier civil war. This put a small dent in the Italian coffers, which at the time was getting approximately 54 florins a month in profit. Let's just say that was a lot of money for that time.

One thing that really vexed King Louis wasn't so much losing Lombardia, as it was the fact that just one province stood between him and a second crown and so saying, he went to war with the county of Usora shortly after Lombardia became the Duke of Alsace's.

On May 18, 1109. King Louis of Italy marched into Usora, and there, in the wealthiest province in all of Croatia, with great ceremony and paegantry and all of his dukes in attendance, he was coronated the King of Croatia.

Now two crowns at on one de Semur head.

That's all for today. See you next time."

By my math, which isn't the greatest, that means in just over 50 years, the de Semurs went from counts to kings of two countries. That's pretty damned impressive.

I'm so amazed as I'm thinking about that feat that I don't even notice Melody as I go out the door.

Hah! Take that!

[WVUFAN]

I find myself being more interested in the storyline with Melody than the game. :-) Your style of writing really draws the reader in, and I love the distinct personallities the story has.

Great job!

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by WVUFAN

I find myself being more interested in the storyline with Melody than the game. :-) Your style of writing really draws the reader in, and I love the distinct personallities the story has.

Great job!

Thanks! The Paradox boards feel the same way that you do, though they've developed a real love-hate relationship with Melody.

[TonyR]

Darn! I thought there was a new post here...

[DolphinFan1]

Originally Posted by TonyR

Darn! I thought there was a new post here...

So did I.

[Izulde]

TonyR: Sorry about that. This isn't a new post either.

DolphinFan1: Ditto.

Seriously though, really appreciate the interest, guys.

[Izulde]

Very important day, this Friday. But as always, there's the lecture from the perpetually cheerful Morengay, who puts a map up on his overhead.



"Here's the state of Italy-Croatia as it came to be called after the crowns were united under Louis, in May 1109. The different parts of the kingdom are, naturally, outlined in red.

Yet, even those boundaries did not stay long, as the remaining Croatian and Serbian lords pledged their fealty to Louis, which greatly pleased the king as you can imagine.

In September, he summoned his Bolognan regiment and set sail for the Middle East to finally once and for all wipe out the Egyptians, for he had other ambitions he wanted to execute that he couldn't with those pesky Muslims in his way. En route, the people of Hum, which by this time had become Louis's wealthiest territory in Croatia, hearing of their new liege's devotion to the Holy Crusade, abandoned Orthodoxy and converted to Catholicism wholesale in incredible public rituals. As a reward for his new co-religionists, King Louis ordered a library built in Hum.

Louis landed in Jaffa in July 1110 and by early September, the impoverished, backwater desert province was his. He pressed on to Hebron, where his forces valiantly battled army after army of Egypt's desparately fighting Muslim hordes, winning again and again.

Finally, in November, the Egyptian caliph offered to make peace in exchange for surrendering all rights to Zeta. Louis, as you might imagine, accepted, eager to get back to his Italian schemes. He appointed a governor in charge of Jaffa and returned home.

Once back in Bologna, Louis set upon his greatest ambition: to control the Adriatic Sea. As you can see from the map on the overhead, Italy-Croatia already held much of the Adriatic under its sway, but the powerful Duchies of Karten and Apuila stood in the way of absolute rule. Thus, it should come as no surprise to you that Louis claimed the right to Karten and invaded, for Karten was the easiest target, able to be hammered by both Italy and Croatia.

The war was going smoothly until February 14th, 1111. Valentine's Day is normally pretty cool, right? Girls, you get the chocolates and the flowers, guys you hopefully get a little fun if you do it right."

I can't stop from chuckling along with the rest of the class. Too bad it's not spring semester or I could plan something with Melody.

"But this Valentine's Day wasn't so great for King Louis I of Italy and Croatia. Pope Folco, seeing Italy-Croatia's bullying of Karten, ordered an end to the conflict, saying that a crusader of Louis's reputation should be concentrating on the Muslims.

Louis flatly refused and the pope excommunicated him.

Now you might be saying, so what? What's the big deal about some, pardon me if I offend any Catholics in here, some jackass in a funny hat saying you're no longer a member of the Church? Well, in those days, it meant that your soul was eternally damned and you could have no hope of the Kingdom of Heaven. It was the single worst thing that could happen to you.

It was even more of an outrage to Louis because of all he'd done to support Catholicism's name. Time and time again he'd defended the Church and to be cast out like this infuriated him.

As if that weren't bad enough, the Duke of Karten and Verona, for he held both titles, proved a much tougher nut to crack than Louis had anticipated. In fact, if it wasn't for the mighty marshal Zaccaria, who I've told you about before, Louis would've suffered a shameful loss from which he might've never recovered.

Unfortunately, the great and heroic man was also gravely wounded in the fighting. Louis, repenting of starting the war and causing his most capable general to be hurt, made peace in July for the Duke of Karten title and 500 florins. He then named Zaccaria the Duke of Karten and gave him the rich county of Provence to rule over, fulfilling the still young Marshal's long-held dream to become a titled noble.

In Zaccaria's place, Louis appointed another de Semur, Charles. Charles at the time was 21, four years younger than the man he'd replaced. He was renowned as an even mightier individual warrior than Zaccaria, but without the genius-level ability of strategy that his predecessor was so famous for.

Despite this attempt to make amends, Louis discovered that God was not done punishing him for Karten yet, for in September, his beloved wife Toda, who had been with him for as long as he could remember, died. It did not take long for him to find another bride however, as he married Irmeltrud von Rheinfelden, the lovely 16 year old sister of the infant King of Germany. Indeed, it is often said that she was so beautiful she rivaled the loveliest girls in France, then known for its stunning women.

December of 1111 brought a man who would play a very significant role in the future of Italy-Croatia. That man was Pedro Jimenez, a priest who was the brother to three Jimenezs already in court and the cousin to yet other Jimenezs who had been married to de Semurs. Upon his arrival into Bologna, he stormed into the castle, pushed the guards aside, marched into the throne room and said, and I quote "God has taken your love and reduced your favorite marshal to a provincial Duke. You have had no bishop since Robert of Chalons's death. Appoint me the Bishop of Italy-Croatia and great bounty shall enter your kingdom again, where now there is sorrow and sadness at every turn."

King Louis readily accepted and named the fiery Castillian the royal bishop.

We now turn our attention to the Middle East, for in February 1112, Louis realized that in obtaining the title of the Duke of Karten, he also received numerous count vassals. This stoked the flames of desire for conquest and crusading in him, to rid his excommunication. He noticed in particular that the Count of Krain held Cairo, a city that would make for an excellent base of operations. Louis ordered him to surrender the title but the Count refused. In response, the Italian-Croatian king declared war.

Zaccaria, furious at Louis's presumption, countered by declaring his own independence from the King and joining in war against Louis. By July, Cairo was in Louis's hands and Charles was about to make landfall on Provence and swords with the legendary marshal he'd replaced. Unfortunately for Zaccaria, he was still too ill to fight and so the battle was swift and in favor of Charles, who, it must be said, fought most impressively.

At the September peace negotiations, Louis demanded only the title of Duke of Karten, allowing Zaccaria to keep Provence in honor of the services his old marshal had rendered him and in acknowledgement of the Count of Provence's justice in defending his vassal.

The moment King Louis returned home to Bologna, he set sail. Where to... will be revealed... on Monday! Enjoy your weekend!"

I'm beginning to hate his cliffhangers, even though it's rather fitting, because I'm sailing into the unknown myself tonight, hell, this whole weekend.

Melody slips out the door while I'm lost in my thoughts.

Now I sit and wait for evening to come.

[DaddyTorgo]

making me want to buy CK!!!

is there a reason i shouldn't?

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by DaddyTorgo

making me want to buy CK!!!

is there a reason i shouldn't?

Not that I can think of, but then I'm biased.

A few small caveats to be aware of, though:

1) Large court management can get extremely tedious. Download the 1.05 patch if it's not already installed as soon as you can. Cuts down a ton on the management, but it still can be a bit of pain.

2) After a while, you'll want to expand beyond the vanilla game (which I haven't done yet, admittedly). In that case, I strongly recommend some event packs, which you can find on the CK mods forum.

3) Although CK is easily the most accessible Paradox game, it's still a Paradox game, so the learning curve, while much gentler than any other offering, will still be a little deeper than most games.

It used to be that some thought the game too easy and you can make that case certainly. The nice thing about 1.05 is that it packs a nice set of large realm disruption events, making world conquest considerably more difficult.

[DaddyTorgo]

Originally Posted by Izulde

Not that I can think of, but then I'm biased.

A few small caveats to be aware of, though:

1) Large court management can get extremely tedious. Download the 1.05 patch if it's not already installed as soon as you can. Cuts down a ton on the management, but it still can be a bit of pain.

2) After a while, you'll want to expand beyond the vanilla game (which I haven't done yet, admittedly). In that case, I strongly recommend some event packs, which you can find on the CK mods forum.

3) Although CK is easily the most accessible Paradox game, it's still a Paradox game, so the learning curve, while much gentler than any other offering, will still be a little deeper than most games.

It used to be that some thought the game too easy and you can make that case certainly. The nice thing about 1.05 is that it packs a nice set of large realm disruption events, making world conquest considerably more difficult.

must i go to a store to buy or something, or is it DL-able?

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by DaddyTorgo

must i go to a store to buy or something, or is it DL-able?

To be honest, I don't really know. I'd recommend looking around online and seeing what you can find.

[Izulde]

I'm standing downstairs on the first floor just shooting the breeze with Joe D and Sammy Mac when she walks in, looking surprisingly casual in blue denim shorts and a simple white tanktop and sandals.

Everyone stops their conversation and looks between her and me, watching with anticipation.

And then the silence breaks.

"...You're beautiful."

That's not from me, but from the top of the stairs where Caveman's bushy bearded white face is making its second or third appearance this semester. Even more amazing than his being there is the fact that he's actually talking.

"Hey Caveman! Great to see you lay off the schlong and join us!" Sammy Mac calls up the stairs, making all of us laugh.

But Caveman doesn't answer. His dark green eyes, normally so unfocused and distant are sharp, intent on Melody.

She smiles that cool smile I've come to know so well and matches his gaze, answering with the same relaxed tone as her clothes, "Thank you."

Now I'm staring too as Caveman walks slowly, like an old man, down the stairs. He's 27, almost 28, older than a lot of our alumni, but he seems even older than that. It's partly the beard, partly because he keeps so much to himself, partly something else I can't explain.

"Do you... would you..." The words are hesitant, the same fearful look he always gets around women coming into his eyes, "Would you like to go out to coffee? There's this shop downtown that's not too bad..."

Her smile grows, but what it blossoms into is a smirk, cold at the edges, an icy forerunner of what comes next.

"With you? No. You're too old and too ugly. Now go back to your room, play with yourself as you think about having me, and then cry over your pitiful existence."

Caveman flinches for just a moment, but it's there. He nods, murmurs a hasty okay, and hurries back up the stairs with a speed I've never seen from him.

We're all frozen in place, rooted by the bitchiness of her move. Any other girl and we'd be yelling at her or throwing her out of the house outright, but this isn't any other girl. This is Melody, who carries herself like a queen even dressed as a normal college girl.

She turns to me, that placid smile back in place.

"Come on, Nick. The weekend isn't going to wait for us, you know."

Is she kidding? She honestly expects me to...

"No. I'm not going. Forget it, Melody."

"What?" Her eyes darken, her lips tightening into a line that'd look shrewish on anybody else, but on her only makes her all the more regal looking.

But I've got my ground now and I'm not going to give in on this one.

"No. I'm not going. That's bullshit, Melody! Caveman's one of the coolest damn guys in this whole fraternity and for you to treat him like that is absolutely uncalled for. You go on your trip by yourself or whatever jagoff doesn't see you for the bitch you are. You can try throwing your money, your hotness, your everything around, but I'm not going to fall for your game. In fact, you know what? You can just get the hell out. I don't even want to talk to you again."

The audience of brothers break out into applause, cheers and whistles and I watch as Melody's face softens slightly.

"Nick, look.. I know he's your brother and everything... but you have to understand... can we just go and talk about this?"

I'm about to give her another cutting no when Drake comes racing down the stairs, laughing maniacally as he dashes down the hall with my overnight bag.

"Hey! That's my bag! Give it back, you bastard!"

I chase after him, the other brothers laughing as they watch.

Drake keeps running on out of the house and I follow, cursing and yelling at him to give me my bag back.

It's not until he drops my bag and keeps on running, waving as he heads off into the night, that I realize where I am and what's there.

I'm in the parking lot outside, standing next to a gleaming, silver Porsche Boxter. The kind that I'd trade my little sister in for.

As I stand there next to the car, gawking, my bag at my feet, Melody comes out and walks to the driver's side, her hand resting on the door just as easy as can be.

She looks across the seats at me, her face still gentle and subdued.

"Nick, come with me. Please?"

I'm so overcome with the prospect of actually being in a Porsche Boxter that before I fully recognize what I'm doing, my bag's in the trunk and I'm buckled in the passenger's side.

Neither one of us says anything until we're out of the city and on to the quiet freeway.

"I'm sorry about before, Nick. It's just that your friend is one of a certain kind of guy and it's unnerving."

Naturally I ask her what kind. She sighs, looking out beyond the window and into the night as the breeze passes through her hair, rustling it in a way thats's almost affectionate.

"The kind that's in love with beauty and puts women on a pedestal if they're pretty enough. And of course, no woman can be who they imagine us to be, so we disappoint them in the end and they end up hating us. You see Nick.. Caveman?... is an artistic spirit in love with love and beauty. Whether he gets the beauty he longs for or is rejected by it, just being in the presence of what he considers beautiful inspires him to create, whether it's art, poetry, stories, whatever."

I sit back and ponder that for a moment. There's probably some truth to that. Caveman -is- always in his locked room, busy writing stories and reading, or so he says. But still, it all sounds pretty silly to me.

"Maybe, but what makes you say that? I mean, you met him for what, five seconds?"

She smiles wryly and half-glances at me.

"Nick, I'm a beautiful, rich girl. Boys and men, too have been falling in love with me for as long as I can remember. After a while, a girl like me gets to know all about men, better than they know themselves even. It's not just being pretty or rich, you understand. It's not even enough to be pretty and well off. You have to be both beautiful and wealthy beyond what the middle class can comprehend."

As I'm thinking over, there's the loud growl of an engine and a smirking teenager comes up alongside in a Hyundai plastered with stickers.

"Hey! You wanna race?"

Melody sneers, a sudden flash coming into her blue eyes that I've never seen before, "Certainly. Nick, hold on. I need to teach this fucking riceboy a lesson."

I'm so shocked at hearing her curse that I don't even notice when I'm thrown against the back of the seat as she changes gears and takes off down the highway.

The Hyundai alongside us keeps up for a while and even pulls ahead for a few seconds, but as the red needle on the Porsche's dashboard pushes further and further to the right, we blow by the furious challenger and leave him sputtering in our dust.

My head's plastered to the seatback and so all I can do is hear Melody's laugh, so fierce and startling from such a delicate face.

"That'll teach him! I hate, hate, -hate- those damned riceboys! They're such pretenders!"

As I see her throw her head back and laugh all the more as we continue zooming down the road, I can only think one thing.

The more I learn about this girl, the less I know who she is.

[DaddyTorgo]

not to interrupt the "dynasty" but I must offer constructive criticism as a fellow writer: what was with Nick's rapid waffling there. I can understand wanting to do that for character development reasons, but to have it happen in the span of like...4 lines with little to no...afterthought or anything...just seems like it was pretty...pointless. And I don't think it added much to her character that we hadn't already gotten through it's evolution.

In short...tbh...to me, it's probably the weakest part of the whole story so far. But it's a very well-written, strong story, so take that for what it's worth.

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by DaddyTorgo

not to interrupt the "dynasty" but I must offer constructive criticism as a fellow writer: what was with Nick's rapid waffling there. I can understand wanting to do that for character development reasons, but to have it happen in the span of like...4 lines with little to no...afterthought or anything...just seems like it was pretty...pointless. And I don't think it added much to her character that we hadn't already gotten through it's evolution.

In short...tbh...to me, it's probably the weakest part of the whole story so far. But it's a very well-written, strong story, so take that for what it's worth.

For what it's worth, I agree with you.

I knew it was going to be tricky to figure out how to get Nick in the car after he said he wasn't going. Enter Drake, who steals the bag and drops it off by the car and then Nick becomes dazzled by the sight of his dream car, so he ends up going anyway.

...Or at least, that's what he says.

Somebody on the Paradox boards brought up another point with regards to Nick's character that was an equally valid criticism, but the answer to that one is the same to yours, I believe.

Namely, Nick may not be a reliable narrator and may not be completely honest.

Now, I don't know entirely yet if that's true or not, and it might well be that this is simply a weak plot point as you point out, but just suggesting that there could be reasons for it

And thanks, both for the compliment and the criticism

[DaddyTorgo]

Originally Posted by Izulde

For what it's worth, I agree with you.

I knew it was going to be tricky to figure out how to get Nick in the car after he said he wasn't going. Enter Drake, who steals the bag and drops it off by the car and then Nick becomes dazzled by the sight of his dream car, so he ends up going anyway.

...Or at least, that's what he says.

Somebody on the Paradox boards brought up another point with regards to Nick's character that was an equally valid criticism, but the answer to that one is the same to yours, I believe.

Namely, Nick may not be a reliable narrator and may not be completely honest.

Now, I don't know entirely yet if that's true or not, and it might well be that this is simply a weak plot point as you point out, but just suggesting that there could be reasons for it

And thanks, both for the compliment and the criticism

yw. And you know of course that you can't really properly evaluate it until the whole story has had a chance to play itself out. which is probably the perils of posting it as you're writing it .

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by DaddyTorgo

yw. And you know of course that you can't really properly evaluate it until the whole story has had a chance to play itself out. which is probably the perils of posting it as you're writing it .

Indeed

One thing that this dynasty has taught me though, is that I do in fact have the ability to write a compelling story and characters. I wasn't sure if I did before I started writing this dynasty, but now I have faith that I do.

[Izulde]

We drive in silence on the highway until we find the exit that she's looking for. A little while later, we're pulling into a forest and onto a gravel road that crunches as the tires roll on it.

And there is our destination, a fairly large cabin made of honey-colored logs.

She turns off the engine and without a word, we get our bags and walk up the short flight of stairs inside.

I'm surprised to find that it's smaller on the interior than I expected. A fairly tiny living room feeds into an equally dimunitive dining area with a modest four chair table, which in turn leads to a kitchen space that's more kitchenette than kitchen.

Melody guides me down a staircase that branches off the kitchen, remarking, "My father likes to rough it occasionally and come out here for weekend trips. He says it gets him back in touch with nature and being just an ordinary man."

I'm about to remark that it's awfully hard to be ordinary when a family's as wealthy as hers seems to be when we reach the bottom of the stairs and my breath's taken away.

There, in the basement, is a vast room of rich, colorful couches, thick, soft carpet, numerous rugs and pillows, and hanging, gauzy silks that give the place the appearance of something out of the Arabian Nights. The only thing that disrupts the feeling of Arabia is a wooden bar that lines the north wall, but even that blends in pretty well.

Seeing my open mouth, Melody smiles in her understated way.

"My father's favorite short story is Rabindranath Tagore's "Hungry Stones". He says he loves the idea of a classic Persian setting, so he made up this as a place to relax in and entertain guests every now and then."

"It's beautiful", I confess.

"There's some wine behind the bar I thought we could have for supper, but I'll get that later. Let me show you the rest of the place."

We go back upstairs and I discover the main floor's bigger than I thought. The living room area has a door on the left hand side that opens up into a vast bedroom dominated by a king bed and the decorations are much more of the kind of bedroom you'd expect from a rich family, with lots of what look like European artificats to my mind.

"My mother's doing, really. She hates the idea of roughing it and insisted that the bedroom be as close to home as possible", Melody explains with an ironic smile, "Though it's still much smaller than the ones at our house, she says it's tolerable."

Tolerable. A bedroom that's even bigger than the President's room at the chapter house is tolerable. It's all I can do to keep from shaking my head as I'm led out the sliding glass door that's connected to the dining area, where a pleasant porch that runs the length of the cabin awaits, along with, of all things, a hot tub.

As I'm blinking at the idea of a hot tub outside a cabin that's supposed to be roughing it, Melody's continuing her oddly chatty streak.

"It's a great place to relax in, especially in the summertime. You look about my brother's size, so I figured you could borrow his spare swimming trunks that he keeps here and we could relax in it after supper."

"What are we having for supper?" I finally ask, absorbing all this atmosphere in.

She smiles, a spark in her eyes.

"I thought since you're a fraternity man and all that you could cook us hamburgers on the grill just to the right before those maple trees over there."

She points it out and I laughingly agree to the plan. The truth is, I'm a pretty good griller if I do say so myself.

We pass the next half hour with preparing supper, I flipping hamburgers on the grill, she with fixing up a salad in the kitchenette. Then we eat at the table, making idle conversation about Professor Morengay, the class, and mutual professors we've had. The hamburgers turned out great, as did the salad she made, though I privately wished we had some dressing, rather than just vinegar, but she said vinegar tasted better and was healthier besides.

Once we're done with supper, we share the washing and drying duties of the dishes and silverware. I go to the bathroom that's attached to the bedroom and change into the borrowed trunks before going out to the hot tub, which Melody's turned on while I was changing.

I sink into the hot, swirling, steaming, bubbling waters and sigh happily. The heat's blissful on my bare skin, especially with the chill of the early autumn evening outside. In fact, with the quiet of the outdoors, the warmth of the tub and the fullness of my belly, it feels like a little taste of heaven.

Then heaven itself comes out in a one-piece, snug, shimmering silver swimsuit, a smile on her lips as she carries two glasses of red wine in hand. I accept the glass with a smile and a thanks, pleased to have sweet red, as I'm not fond of bitter white.

"It's gorgeous out here. I can see why your dad likes it", I offer as I sip my wine.

She slides in opposite me with a soft chuckle and a small sigh of her own pleasure at the water.

"I do too. My mother can't see the appeal though. More's the pity for her, I say."

"I used to go camping myself as a kid. Every summer, my dad would take a week off of work and all of us would go camping. We'd fish every day at this lake by our campsite... used to catch crappies, blue gill, the occasional bass or walleye. We'd come back and filet them and Dad would fry them up. Best fish I've ever had."

She smiles, looking thoughtful after taking a swallow of her own wine.

"I've never gone fishing, though my father likes to go pheasant hunting when the season rolls around. He does an excellent job of cooking it, too... it's so tender and so tasty when it's done right."

We pass from that discussion into a conversation about the places we've been on vacations. She's obviously been a lot more than I have and it's two wine glasses later that she's told me all about some of the cities and countries she's been in Europe.

She's in the middle of a story about a gondola ride in Venice when, feeling drowsy from the heat, the food, and the wine, I unexpectedly fall asleep.

When I wake up later, it's pitch black.

She's gone.

But then I see flickering light out of the corner of my eye and I turn my head to its source.

There's two rows of tall holders lining the path back into the house, candles glowing beautifully at their tops, the flames bouncing and waving with the slight breeze that threatens to put them out, but never does.

In the middle of the rows is a heap of silver.

Melody's swimsuit.

Intrigued, I climb out of the tub and follow the path set by the candles. I go inside and the guiding lights continue, albeit on shorter sticks than outside. They turn, directing me into the bedroom.

And there, lying on the bed, smiling radiantly and looking like the most divine of angels in all her bare pink and white glory, is Melody.

She crooks a finger, summoning me to her.

Entranced, I answer the call.

What follows is the most amazing, most incredible night of my life.

[Izulde]

This cold/flu/whatever it is has been kicking my butt all week so no update, but I figured you guys would be interested in knowing that this dynasty was named the Weekly Showcase AAR on the Paradox boards

I'll get another update in late this week, Thursday or Friday night.

[TonyR]

Darn you Izulde with your teasing posting non updates.

Great dynasty by the way.

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by TonyR

Darn you Izulde with your teasing posting non updates.

Great dynasty by the way.

And here's another non-updating tease post!

Thank you very much for the compliment

[Izulde]

I wake up the next morning to the sun beaming in on my face and the birds chirping outside the window.

I rub at my face and start to sit up when I hear Melody's voice talking. Unfortunately, it's indistinct and I can't make out what she's saying, so I roll out of bed and search for my clothes when I remember they're in my bag out in the living room area.

Just as I'm about to leave the room, Melody appears in impossibly cute, turquoise panties that looks like they're from Victoria's Secret and a bright pink T-shirt that says Team Pink in rainbow colors. I think it's simply scrumptious and so does the rest of me that's waking up as well.

She raises a brow at my obvious thoughts and shakes her head with a faint smile, "Not now. Get dressed. We're eating breakfast and then you're taking me fishing."

"What?" I blink.

"Fishing. With a pole? Bait? You do know what that is, right?"

I laugh at her mock sneer and nod on my way out of the room to get dressed.

Breakfast turns out to be some healthy cereal I can barely get down, a perfectly ripened banana and yogurt that's not too bad.

As we're washing up the dishes, I remember hearing her when I woke up.

"So, who were talking to this morning? Some secret other lover you've got stashed on the side?" I quip as I dry a bowl.

She rolls her eyes as only she can do.

"No. My father. He says he likes to start his weekend off right by finding out how I'm doing so he calls me every Saturday morning. Oh, by the way, sorry about drugging your wine last night. It was the only way I could think of short of hitting you with a mallet to knock you out for a few hours so I could get everything set up."

"Oh, that's cool that you talk to your da--wait, you drugged me?"

I stare at her while she nods nonchalantly as she puts away the dried silverware. I'm trying to figure out whether that's freaky or really damn cool when she takes me by the hand, pulling me away from the sink.

"Come on. Let's go fishing."

And we do, after a trip to a store in the small town that abuts the park we're staying in. Here, I got to show off my fishing knowledge by picking out a couple of poles and bait for a variety of weather conditions. She paid for it all of course, with an American Express Platinum Card.

We spend all day out on the lake. She catches on surprisingly fast and hauls in a big, beautiful rainbow trout just as the sun's starting to set. I wish I had a camera to catch that moment--the orange of the declining sun, the spray of the water as the fish jumps out, fighting to get away, the incredible smile on Melody's face as she laughs and moves with her efforts to land it... If there really is such a thing as poetry in motion, it's moments like that, that are it.

I catch a few blue gill to go with her trout and we make a dinner out of them, I with the manly filleting and frying, she with the feminine table setting and candelighting. This time she doesn't drug my wine and as a result, the lovemaking is even more exciting and mindblowing than the night before.

Sunday morning we pack up and we're starting the drive home when she puts in a mix CD of oldies, '50s and '60s music.

"I never figured you for an oldies girl", I joke, "Shouldn't you be listening to classical and opera?"

I know her well enough by now to anticipate the eyeroll that comes, "No. That's my mother. I like oldies. They're simple and sweet, a lot more pleasant than today's music. In fact, those days were a lot simpler and more fun than the world we live in now."

"I don't know about that..." And I don't. Things don't seem quite so pat to me and I think about it some more before answering, "I mean, look at Iraq. It's like Vietnam all over again. Kids our age and younger believed in world peace then and I bet they hope for it now, too, even if they don't say it as much."

She grips the steering wheel, emphatically shaking her head.

"No, Nick. It isn't the same. The youth of the middle and working classes act like they're sophisticated, so worldly, like they know everything. They don't. They're just as stupid and unaware as ever and the fact that they act like damned know-it-alls is irritating, as irritating as their sense of self-entitlement."

I'm tempted to remark on the entitlement bit, but I wisely let it go by.

"Hey, I never claimed to be sophisticated!" I grin.

Her hold on the wheel loosens, the tense lines in her face easing out.

"I know. That's what I like about you, Nick. You're honest and true to who you are and unlike other honest, true guys like that Caveman friend of yours, you're not clingy or pushy. You know when to stand your ground and when to just go with the flow."

I have to look out the window or else I'll burst out laughing right there. I'm beginning to think that maybe she doesn't know me as well as she thinks she does. Or maybe she does and she's seeing something in me that I can't see.

It's a disturbing thought, that someone would know you better than you know yourself. Time to change the subject.

"What is it with you and class, anyway?" I say, turning back to her, "I mean, look at Paris Hilton. She's filthy rich and she doesn't seem any brighter than anyone else. In fact, I think she's dumber than everyone else."

The answering sneer that slides over Melody's face is genuine this time.

"Paris Hilton is not of my class. She's part of the newly rich, heiress though she is. My class is one of generations upon generations of wealth, the kind of accumulated, careful wealth, power, and most of all, respectability that only time can instill in a family."

I'm about to retort when sirens flash behind us. Melody mutters something undignified under her breath and tells me to get her a white envelope out of the glove compartment.

It's in her hands just as the cop, who doesn't look any older than either of us, comes up to her window.

"Good day ma'am. License and registration, please?"

"Oh, officer! Was I speeding? I'm -soooo- sorry. It's just that, I like, have this really big party to get to tonight and like, my friend here has this like really superhot date he's been wanting to go out with for like ages! So we had to like, really hurry!"

My fist presses against my mouth to keep myself from laughing in disbelief at Melody's sudden change in voice and mannerisms. Her eyes wide, she begins rummaging through her bag.

"Oh, shoot! Where is it? Oh, there it is!"

The cop's smiling as she hands him the materials, remarking, "You know who you remind me of?"

"Paris Hilton?" she asks, all hair flipping and innocent eyes.

He laughs, "No, no, nobody sleazy like that. More like um... Alicia Silverstone! Yeah, that's it.. Alicia Silverstone in Clueless!"

"Omigawd, that's -such- a good movie!" Melody breathlessly replies, "Oh, oh! I almost forgot! I wanted to show you this really cool card! Please, please look at it!"

The cop blinks bewilderedly as he takes the envelope, "Huh? Why?"

"Pleeeeeeeasssssee?! Do it for your Alicia?" She bats her eyes, her voice imploring and begging so theatrically I have to bite my knuckles to hold my hilarity in.

Our young officer can't resist against this onslaught of girlish charm and so he opens the envelope, reading the card inside.

He goes pale, looking from card to driver's license and back again before hastily putting the card in the envelope and handing everything back to her, his voice quite professional and clipped now, if slightly wavery.

"I'm quite sorry about the misunderstanding, Miss Suchet. Continue on your way, but please, slow down, okay?"

"I will! Thanks!" She rewards him with a beaming smile that makes even me weak in the knees.

It's not until we're back on the highway and he's safely out of view that I allow myself to finally break out into hilarious, loud, long laughter.

"How the hell did you get out of that? What was in that card?"

"Oh, the state police commissoner sends my family a Christmas card every year and puts all our names on it", Melody answers breezily as she slows down to just above the speed limit.

That doesn't surprise or awe me. I'm slowly getting used to it. Wiping the tears of mirth from my eyes, I sit up more normally.

"That was some acting performance you put on back there."

She smiles wryly, "That's how women of my class make it in this world, Nick. We learn how to be whatever kind of woman the men we meet want us to be."

I can't keep my brow from creasing in irritation.

"There you go again with class! Seriously, will you get off that crap already?"

"Look, Nick. You don't know what it's like to be in that type of society. Few people do and even those who encounter it once or twice can only barely scratch the surface of what it's like."

She sighs before lapsing into a thoughtful look.

"Tell you what. My father is holding his annual holiday party the week after finals in December. It's a few months away obviously and I'll send you the formal invitation when it gets closer to the date, but... will you come? I don't expect you to learn and understand everything in one night, obviously, but you can get a taste of what I'm talking about."

I'd like to get another taste of her. A lot more tastes of her, if you want to know the truth. And the chance to meet her family, see her house, mingle with truly high society... Could there be any other answer than the one I gave?

"Yes. Of course I'll come."

[Wolfpack]

I think I see a potential twist looming on the horizon, but I hesitate to say much more for fear of a) being wrong and b) if I'm right, I don't wish to give anything away.

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by Wolfpack

I think I see a potential twist looming on the horizon, but I hesitate to say much more for fear of a) being wrong and b) if I'm right, I don't wish to give anything away.

Fair enough I'm fine with it either way, as the thread on the Paradox boards has been filled with speculation and guesses, including one who correctly surmised that Melody drugged Nick's wine.

And in other news, this dynasty won Favorite Narrative AAR in the Crusader Kings category of the 2007 1st Quarter AARland Choice Awards on the Paradox forums with 8 votes. It beat one of the behemoths of the CK forum to pick up the victory

[Izulde]

I passed the rest of Sunday as if in a dream. Everything tingled with the memory of Melody and that incredible weekend. Now Monday's here and so are Melody and I in Prof. Morengay's class. She's in pale yellow and white today. Normally I don't like yellow, but she makes it look good. I don't offer her anything more than a casual upnod of acknowledgement on my way to my seat. She downnods back. It's more than we would've exchanged in public before at any rate.

The prof ambles in, beaming as ever on Monday. I don't mind it this Monday. After all, I just bedded the most amazing girl on campus and got invited to a jetset party besides.

"Good morning class and welcome back!

When we met last Friday, I told you, among other things, about how King Louis I came to be Duke of Karten and receive several vassal counts in the Middle East. I told you about how he conquered Cairo and set sail again shortly after his return to Bologna, but didn't tell you where.

Where he sailed was right back to Cairo.

Unfortunately, in early November of 1112, the Duke of Ancona and his vassal, the Count of Ancona, rebelled against the de Semurs. Some thought was given to pulling the Bologna regiment from its Middle East journey to deal with the revolters, but in the end, Marshal Charles de Semur was sent with the Ferrara regiment to put down the insurrection.

Two weeks after Marshal Charles marched with his army, on November 23rd, 1112, the great King Louis I de Semur of Italy and Croatia died in his sleep while his fleet was still in the Adriatic Sea.

The entire dual kingdom mourned for days. Arnaud de Semur, Louis's chosen heir, was particularly distraught. Already in a great depression, he renounced his right to rule the two kingdoms and so the crown passed to his younger brother, Yves, who was the kingdom's steward."

Prof. Morengay stops to put up a couple portraits on the overhead.



"This is King Yves I of Italy-Croatia."



"And here's the Queen, his not-so-pretty wife.

As if the problems weren't bad enough for the de Semurs at this time, Pope Folco, who'd called for peace before, demanded again that the de Semurs make peace with their Catholic enemies, in this case the Duke of Ancona. Yves, fiercely determined not to lose any of his father's Italian possessions, refused and ordered Charles to continue his lightning campaign.

This Charles did and in March 1113, the Duchy of Ancona and County of Urbino were back in de Semur hands, this time with Arnaud de Semur, who felt quite comfortable ruling as a duke over a poor Italian county.

To combat the ill will generated by crushing the insurrection, Yves elevated a couple other of his counts to Duke status and this generosity did much to improve the rest of Europe's opinion of the new king, because everyone likes a guy who gives out presents. That's why Santa Claus is so popular."

We all chuckle appreciatively at the quip and listen as Morengay continues.

"Shortly thereafter, a pair of Yves's vassals declared war on the shiekdom next to Cairo. The king, still eager to prove his reputation and restore the tarnish on his spirituality from refusing to make peace with Ancona, joined the battle and sent Marshal Charles from Cairo to handle the matter.

Unfortunately, this all proved for naught, as the Steward of the County of Provence, which was still ruled by Zaccaria de Semur, conquered both of the shiekdom's territories with Charles's assistance and claimed them in his own name and under the flag of Zaccaria, who was only too happy to be the only count in all of Europe to have his own vassal.

The marshal's bad fortunes continued at a massive tournament held by King Yves I in late January, 1114. Not only did Charles suffer an embarassing loss in the final, but he was gravely wounded in the process.

What was clear in the first six months of Yves's reign was that he was in no way even close to matching Louis the Great as his predecessor came to be called, and Italy-Croatia seemed to be in a stalemate.

Only time would tell if the de Semurs would be able to break out of the rut.

That's all. See you Wednesday."

We're all somewhat flat as we leave. I enjoyed hearing about Louis, but so far this Yves guy seems real boring.

Oh well, maybe he'll improve. After all, if I scored with Melody, anything's possible.

[Izulde]

Lecture time. I'm planning to ask Melody something after class, but first things first.

Morengay's looking a little tired. Wonder what he was up too late doing.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. When we left last time, I told you that Italy-Croatia had come into a stalemate since King Yves I's coronation and were even beset by some misfortunes.

Yves knew, however, that his subjects scorned him, who'd hoped for Arnaud to take the throne and that furthermore, he didn't have the impressive aura and reputation that his father did. Thus, his original focus was to make sure that he simply didn't lose anything. To that end, Yves concentrated on strengthening what later historians called the de Semur Six--that is, the four connected Italian core provinces of Mantua, Bologna, Ferrara, and Modena that were the continous centre of the de Semur power and the Croatian provinces of Hum and Usora, the richest territories in the eastern half of the kingdom.

In September 1114, two things happened. One, the meddling Pope Folco, who'd been such a thorn in the de Semur side, died. Two, the day after Folco's death, which Yves privately celebrated in the de Semur castle in Bologna, an epidemic of typhoid fever struck the capital city. You can draw your own conclusions as to where -that- plague came from.

Despite the plague, the city remained orderly and was even a site of celebration when the expansion project on Bologna Castle begun under Louis's reign was at last completed in February 1115. It was renamed Louis Castle in honor of that great monarch and it was the first castle in Europe that later historians would come to call a medium-sized castle. Don't ask me how they came up with those classifications, but that's what they said. In even better news, the typhoid epidemic ended two months later.

Things were awfully quiet the next few years, with the only notable events happening in 1117, when in February when a small republic pledged fealty to Yves and in November when the Duchy of Lombardia declared its independence.

Not wanting to upset the delicate balance of his realm, King Yves I retained his claim on the Duchy, but chose not to press it, for he was unpopular with the clergy and to press a claim would've been to risk him getting in big trouble with the Papacy like Louis did. The lose your soul kind of trouble.

Luckily for the rather boring king, the Caliph of Hammadid, one of the lone remaining North African Muslim empires, decided to conquer some territory extremely close to the de Semur heartland in November 1118. Yves was only too happy to declare war, for he'd heard the tales growing up of how the Middle East enabled his father to restore his reputation.

He raised the royal Bologna regiment and was able to conquer the province of Lombardia, but could not move swiftly enough to capture the other two Muslim provinces, which were reconquered by the German kingdom. Unfortunately, despite Yves' best hopes, the reconquest of Lombardia did nothing to elevate his standing in the clergy, for word had gotten out of his celebration of Folco's death and he was never forgiven for it.

Worse yet, his wife Melisanda died in labor in January 1119 along with the child. This circumstance was particularly distressing because Yves still had no son to carry on his line of the de Semur tree.

The king was determined that he would marry no one less than a princess, which was something of a problem given that at that time, most of the European monarchies were either without marriageable daughters or said daughters were too old.

But luck smiled on King Yves I in the end, for he married a much more attractive woman than his first wife. He married the pretty 17 year old Princess Gunhild Knytling of Norway and yes, she is an ancestor of Professor Knud Knytling who came to guest lecture for us early in the semester."

Morengay stopped to put a picture up on the overhead.



"That would be Queen Gunhild I of Italy-Croatia."

She certainly is prettier than the other hag Yves married. Still not as pretty as Melody, though.

Morengay resumes.

"It was one of the most lavish and celebrated weddings of the early 12th century and it also made the de Semurs even richer, for Gunhild's dowry was 436 florins. To put that in perspective, that was almost enough money to build an actual castle.

With this newfound wealth, Yves decided to finance an expedition to North Africa to take out the remainder of the Hammadid caliphate. While the Bologna regiment proved very successful, the Palermo troops, under the auspices of the royal steward, Xabier Jimenez, suffered an embarassing loss in August 1119 despite having a 1750-450 advantage.

This led Yves to relieve Marshal Charles de Semur, who never did recover from his wounds, of his position and appoint a new marshal, one of the many Premyslids in the royal court. The Premyslids, incidentally, were the Kings of Bohemia and their presence was beginning to rival that of the still-strong Jimenez influence. The two families hated one another and vyed for favour constantly. There's a very good book about their clashes and if anyone's interested in it, see me after class. And just as a side note: At the time of the Hammadid campaign, the Jimenez controlled three major court positions: Steward, Diocese Bishop as Pedro was still alive and happy about the holy war, and Chancellor. The Premyslids controlled only the position of Marshal, but they quite naturally hoped for a reversal of fortunes.

Speaking of rivals, the kingdom of Italy-Croatia grew concerned when it received word that its archrival Germany was rapidly eating up territory in the Hammadid caliphate. To make things worse, King Yves I suffered a rout during the seige of the Hammadid capital when the Caliph appeared with a stronger army to drive off the de Semur forces.

But a glimmer of hope appeared on May 28, 1120, for at long last, a son was born to Yves.

He named him Louis, in honor of his illustrious father in hopes that even if he himself could not win in Africa, that his son, with this august name, would have a chance at greatness.

We'll pick up Friday with the continuation of Hammadid adventures."

I walk out the door as fast as I can, to catch Melody.

She turns around when I tap her on the shoulder, her face as inscrutable as ever.

"Hey, I was thinking I didn't feel like partying this weekend and the house is going to be noisy, so I was wondering if I could crash at your place."

That small smile I've gotten to know so well appears, though it doesn't reach her eyes. Not that I'm surprised, of course. Even the dimmest fool would know by now that it's rare for her to show an extreme in emotion.

"You can stay over Friday night. Saturday night I have to be out of town and I don't let anyone in my room when I'm not there."

I agree and she gives me the address. I recognize it as being in one of the blocks of houses that surround the campus and are usually rented out for student housing. I'm surprised that she would actually live in rented housing like normal people, but who am I to judge?

In any case, it's a victory. A half-victory because it's only for Friday night, but a win all the same.

It's going to be interesting seeing what her personal pad looks like.

[Izulde]

Big night tonight. But as always, lecture first. It's strange, I thought I'd hate this class when I signed up, but it's becoming my favorite class this semester.

"When we stopped last time, things were going pretty badly for King Yves I in his campaign against the Hammadid empire. He'd suffered some embarassing defeats and Germany, Italy-Croatia's biggest rivals dating back to the end of their alliance, was smashing through North Africa and gobbling up everything in sight.

Despite these setbacks, another opportunity arose in September 1120. Provence, which had become an independent county under the legendary Zaccaria de Semur, was overrun by North African Muslims. It's said that the former Marshal, even though he was still gravely wounded, fought from his bed and killed no less than thirty-five enemy soldiers before they finally overwhelmed him and cut him down.

Ironically enough, it was not any great burning desire for revenge that spurred Yves on to Provence, but rather, it was King Errad Capet of France who drew his ally into the war with the conquering emirate. Nonetheless, the de Semur monarch took advantage and merrily marched on his way to Provence.

Unfortunately for Yves, Provence fell into French hands before he could arrive there and worse yet, the Emirate of Al-Maris, who were the enemy that slew Zaccaria, were seiging Cairo, which did not have near the people or the troops then that it does today.

But along came the French, who not only routed the Al-Marians, but who conquered the Emirate's territories along the Red Sea, giving France control of the entire western half, the eastern half in command of the emirate of Medina.

All was not lost for hopes of Italian-Croatian gains however, for the Governor of Pisa conquered the province of Sudan in late November 1121. Sadly, this did nothing to improve Yves's sullied reputation with the Church and as if things weren't bad enough, in January 1122 a French duke won the day just as the royal marshal was about to conquer a province belonging to the emirate of Cyrencia, whom the de Semur king had gone to war with to try and mount at least one successful crusade.

The cumulative effect of all these frustrating campaigns was to send King Yves I into a very deep depression, so deep that he called off any further crusades and resolved to sit despondently in Louis Castle and ignore Bishop Pedro Jimenez's insistence that he go to Iberia, where the Cyrencia emir had relocated. From there, argued the bishop, Yves could go on to reconquer all of the peninsula and cover his name in glory greater than Louis's.

But Yves would have none of it.

This in turn led to Pedro's own depression and two suicides in the royal court a week apart in March 1122 created a very dark and haunting atmosphere in Bologna. This melancholy spread out into the city itself, where citizens, despondent at King Yves I's poor rule, rioted and destroyed the courthouse, which the monarch made no effort to rebuild.

Factional fighting increased as a result, for a della Torre, an Italian nobleman whose family was of no great consequence, challenged the Premsylid marshal to one on one combat, claiming that he should be the new head of the armies. Yves, not wanting to see any more bloodshed and unimpressed with Jesek's uninspired campaigns in North Africa, agreed to the switch without further comment.

This move not only enraged the Premyslids, but it caused Jesek to plunge into despair equal to that of his liege's and the bishop's. Those were very gloomy times in Bologna and if you take a look at the writings from that period, you'll see it was prevalent throughout the city.

In fact, it got so bad that continous riots broke out in January of 1123 and would continue on for a very long time. As a sign of the chaos of the times, the Jimenez steward died in June and he was replaced by none other than a Premyslid, which meant the balance now stood at two Jimenez to one Premyslid. This meant of course that there were two alleged neutrals in the court's highest positions, but I have to tell you that the della Torre marshal was as anti-Premyslid as you could get without being a Jimenez, so he considered himself a part of the Jimenez faction.

Now you think things would've gone downhill enough that this would be the end of it and things would start improving, right? Nope! One of the Premyslids went insane and killed the court's head of spies, decrying her as a Jimenez sympathizer, which she wasn't incidentally. That left the best person for the job none other than a 38 year old Berber Muslim by the name of Immerghar Isa. From the evidence we have, it appears that by this point, Yves had given up on ever appeasing the clergy and thus was determined to antagonize them at every opportunity he got.

The riots in Bologna spread to Modena in January 1124, but fortunately they lasted just two weeks before petering out. Still, the situation in the capital province was getting so deplorable that the de Semurs quietly began to discuss the possibility of moving out of their beloved Bologna.

These plans were scratched when riots broke out in Palermo in May, as the de Semurs realized that no matter where they went in Italy-Croatia, there would be problems, for Yves was simply that hated a monarch. The local priests in the rioting counties were in particular the ringleaders of these demonstrations of anti-Yves sentiment, but the king knew better than to risk delivering capital punishment to them, for to do that would've been to risk the absolute dissolution of any stability in the dual kingdom.

A week of riots was all that was needed to stir things up to an open rebellion. The Arabs of Palermo, though Catholicized by the sword under Louis the Great's reign, never forgot their Muslim roots and resented the de Semurs as occupiers. Although the revolt was swiftly put down, it was a sign that Italy-Croatia was continuing to crack at the edges.

That's all for now. Try to enjoy your weekend!"

A pretty depressing lecture, all in all. I hope it doesn't foreshadow bad things for tonight.

[Izulde]

It's dusk now and I'm walking down the sidewalk towards Melody's place. The sky's this really pretty pale purple and as I walk, I look around me at the houses, which are really unique in their different designs and architectual styles. Not that I know much about them of course. I'm not much into that kind of thing.

One of my fraternity brothers is, though. He's a dual Architecture and Business major who works for his father's architecture firm in the summers and wants to be an architect himself someday. He told me the story of how this section of houses came to be.

Apparently back in the 1920s, Franz Kronstadt, who started Kronstadt's Brewery here in town, decided he wanted to host a house design contest, so he bought up all the homes here in these three blocks, had them torn down, and announced a competition for the most beautiful and creative home, with a grand prize of $100,000.

Architects came from all across the world and each competitor was given an empty lot to build their entry on. When the contest was over, Kronstadt was so pleased with the results that he let the houses stand as they were and it's become something of a tourist attraction for the town, though most of the houses are rented out to students now, like I said earlier.

Melody's house turns out to be a large, stone building with a turret on either side. Looks almost like a castle, actually, which is fitting in a way, since she seems to come from an old money family, based on what she's told me before.

I walk up the steps, a gradual incline of cobblestone. The scent of the flowers sprawling out across the lawn is pleasant and it adds to the strangely mystical quality that the hour and the atmosphere have already induced in me.

That sense of magic grows all the more when the tall, arching door is opened and Melody steps out, a vision in a shimmering, bare-shouldered white dress.

She smiles in that small way of hers, with a warmth that I haven't seen since that night in the cabin. My hopes for some real fun ramp up considerably.

"Good evening, Nick. Welcome to my home."

Her home? That doesn't surprise me as much as it should, but it's still a little jarring.

"You don't have roommates?"

She shakes her head as she takes my hand and leads me into a massive living room decorated with pale blue carpet, a few leather couches that I'm scared to know the price of and an elaborate fireplace that makes the one we have in the fraternity house look puny in comparison.

"No. I paid the man who owns the place 15 years' worth of rent provided that he not allow anyone else to rent the house until I graduate and provided that I be permitted to remodel it however I like."

I merely nod in answer. Is there anything she can't buy with money? To be honest, it's getting a little sickening, being surrounded by all that wealth and here I am barely scraping by to pay for school.

She takes me through a quick tour of the ground floor, but I don't pay much attention to what she's saying. Her perfume smells even sweeter than the flowers outside and she looks dazzling enough that my irritation at her wealth fades after a while and I just listen to the sound of her voice as it rises and falls.

It's not until there's a long pause and she's looking quietly at me that I come back out of the sensory clouds I'm in.

"...Sorry. What were you saying again?"

Her smile's a little wry and a little sad, too.

"You haven't been listening... for that I'm tempted not to show you my favorite room in the entire house... and it's one I don't let people in.. ever."

Shit. I shake my head to clear out the cobwebs, smiling sheepishly with genuine apology.

"I'm sorry... It's just that you have so many great places that it gets a bit overwhelming after a while... You're pretty overwhelming yourself sometimes too, you know."

It's her turn now to nod silently as she wordlessly leads me up the winding staircase in one of the turrets. It isn't until we're at the top of the stairs and in front of the lone door that she speaks again and this time, her voice is the softest I've ever heard it.

"It's okay.. just pay attention in this room.. please? It's important to me.. this is my sanctuary and it means a lot that I'm sharing it with you."

"All right, I will." My curiosity's through the roof. What could make her act like this? I get the feeling that this is going to be one monumental discovery.

As I'm trying to figure out what could possibly be inside, she opens the door and guides me across the threshold.

It's dark. So dark that I can't see anything, but I hear Melody flicking some switches and gradually little dots of light flare up at about waist-level across the room.

After my eyes adjust, I see that the perimeter of the room is lined with glass display cases and, from the nearest case, it appears that the lights are shining beneath jewels.

"Gemstones", she clarifies to my questioning gaze, "but not just any gemstones."

I wait while she walks over to the nearest one, where a sparkling array of different shades of green gemstones twinkle up at me.

She rests a single, white hand on the glass, staring dreamily at the stones, her voice quieter still, so that I have to lean in, both to look at the display case's contents and hear her words.

"They're gemstones that I've mined with my own hands. This entire room is filled with them. My father has his outdoor hobbies and his cabin, I have my mining trips and my gemstones."

She begins pointing out the green gems and reciting, "Emerald, the first one I ever mined, when I was 10, in Zambia. Nephrite, which is a form of jade. Russia, when I was 14. Jadeite, the rarer and more beautiful form of jade, the same trip."

I'm stunned to hear that Melody has a mining obsession. She doesn't seem the type to be interested in getting her hands dirty, but here she is, going through all the different stones she's gotten in a rapturous voice, her eyes distant with memory and her lips in a gentle, fond smile like I never thought she would have.

The showcase continues and I don't speak, not wanting to break the spell as she moves from case to case, apparently organized by color, as she tells me their names, when and where she found them, and the occasional fact about them.

"Spinel, a type of ruby, Tanzania, not long after I got the emerald in Zambia... Amethyst, Uruguay, two years ago. Incidentally, I've had to work very hard to keep its color, as amethysts are quite prone to fading."

Here Melody stops and smiles with curious mischief at me.

"It's said to protect whoever wears it against seduction."

...Ouch. But there's an opening here and I take advantage of it.

"So why don't you wear it, then? In fact, why don't you have some of these put in rings or necklaces or something? They're too pretty to just have locked up here where nobody can see them."

She shakes her head emphatically, her lips in a thin line.

"No. Not unless I learn goldsmithing or silversmithing or something like that and make the jewelry pieces myself. You see, this is all about something I've done with my own hands. To associate it with someone else's work would be to ruin it."

I see her point and tell her so.

The tour continues on then, but I can't help but notice she skips over a small, light blue gem. I say nothing, but am rewarded when she returns to it after going through all the others.

"This one's my favorite, because it's the rarest."

I look at the tiny, brilliantly blue, shining stone, but I don't see anything special about it or why it should be so rare. All of them look pretty to me.

"It's a Paraiba tourmaline", she explains, "Found only in the Paraiba region of Brazil. There's ones that are very similiar to it that were found in Nigeria very recently, but they're not the same. The gemstone itself was found only in the 1980s and it's got an incredible story."

Melody gazes into the stone and I do, too, listening intently to every word her dreamy, eloquent voice speaks.

"A man named Heitor Dimas Barbosa believed there was a gemstone of unspeakable quality that no one had ever seen in the unassuming hills of Paraiba. He spent years digging and searching, driven on by his quest for this new, perfect stone. Finally, in 1989, after nearly a decade of hunting, he found it... the Paraiba tourmaline.

But he never got to behold his discovery. He was sick the day it was found and the assistant who found it, seized by greed, sold off the crystals as quickly as possible and for a sum that even my mother would find staggering.

The hills were torn apart over the next few years until they were spent and it was believed that there were no more of the beautiful, exciting tourmaline to be found.

But one summer, I begged my father to take me there as a Sweet 16 gift and kept pestering him until he gave in. I was enchanted with the story of a man who had such a powerful dream, only to have his joy snatched away from him at the moment he was to achieve it.

We went and I didn't have any luck the first couple days.

Then, on the morning of my 16th birthday, 10:27 am.. I remember the time because I looked at my watch the very second I got in my hand, I found it... I found this stone.

I screamed, Nick. I screamed when I saw it... I couldn't believe I'd actually found it. It was the best birthday I've ever had. From that moment on, it became the most prized possession of my collection. I've had people offer me far more money than you can imagine for it, but I refuse to part with it... It'll stay with me forever."

Her face is flushed and her hands are gripped tight into fists as she tells me this story and all I can do is stare in wonder at her passion, her intensity.

After a few minutes, she takes a deep breath, exhales and lets her body fall slack.

"Thank you for showing me this room and telling me that story, Melody. I'm honored that you've let me see and hear it", I murmur, more sincere in this moment than I've ever been with a girl.

She nods her quiet thanks and exits the room with equally solemn dignity.

I follow her down the staircase back to the living room.

She stops and turns to me, her face composed to its usual coolness.

"Your turn to pick where we eat."

[Izulde]

She did this to me before, only it was dessert. Now I'm responsible for an entire meal.

It's an easy choice, though. Mario's, this really great, cheap Italian eatery downtown where the smoke of cigarettes is almost as thick as their pizzas, unless you're ordering the thin crust like I usually do.

We're silent as we walk from Melody's house to downtown. Other men, less secure men, like Caveman, would be out of their minds with paranoia and worry that they're doing something wrong, but not me. Not ever me. Paranoia and worry is how you lose the very women you want. Confidence is what wins them more often than not, and besides... the few women I haven't had that I've wanted over the years? The very few? I've always said to myself, fuck 'em.

But it's different with Melody than it is with the other girls. It's more than her wealth, it's more than her obsessions with class and it's more than her otherworldly beauty. It's the sort of cool confidence and sophistication blended together that no other girl I've ever met has.

...I think I'm falling in love with her. Falling in love with Melody Suchet.

It's strange. I don't think I've ever fallen in love before.

Not really, anyway. Sure I've told girls I love them and I've even genuinely felt affection for some of them, but love? Love to me has always been something girls believe in or guys like Caveman, who waste their whole lives pining away for what they won't have.

Did I just think that about Caveman? ...Shit. Melody must be influencing me more than I think.

Stay cool, Nick. You haven't been a jelly sap to this point; you're not about to start now.

By the time I finish running through this whole thought train, we're in front of Mario's, a seedy looking corner restaurant with a faded black sign, the eatery's name lettered in equally pale gold.

Melody, to her credit, doesn't even raise an eyebrow as I lead her in and walk us to the first available booth, the red vinyl cracked big enough in more than a few places to show stuffing.

The waitress, one of those chubby women in their late 40s with lines embedded in their face from too many cigarettes that you always find in places like this, takes our drink order. Coffee, black, for Melody, Cherry Pepsi for me.

Melody studies the cheap, pressed wood walls and dingy paintings on them while I collect my thoughts, still somewhat dazed by my revelation on our walk here.

Love and Melody just don't seem to together and yet they're here, bubbling and frothing inside of me. It's a dangerous brew with a girl like her. Any other girl and it'd be a simple matter of an earnest look and a few words and bada bing bada bang, a serious relationship starts, leading to marriage, kids, 9 to 5 job, the whole works.

I can't do something like that with Melody... and for the first time in my life, I'm scared to say something to a girl. Scared to say those three words that can change two lifetimes forever after, scared that she'll just look at me with one of her trademark cool looks and cut me down in elegant, crisp words, that voice I can't describe utterly lacking in passion or even caring.

So we drink our drinks in silence, exchange our views on pizza and agree on pepperoni thin crust and eat our pizzas with no more conversation than the small talk enthusiasm for a good meal that comes from two people being utterly preoccupied with something other than the moment they're in.

But why does Melody have that distracted look? Why hasn't she held forth on anything; the decor, the people, our waitress? She's mechanical in the way she's munching and I want to ask... I want to ask, but all at once, with realizing everything, I'm afraid.

I'm afraid damn it, and that just makes it all the worse, because I'm Nick. I'm never afraid, especially not of a girl.

And so we eat and so I pay, refusing Melody's polite offer to cover the bill. Her protest is rote and without the fire she normally displays in financial matters.

Things stay that way until we're back into the house and she leads me into a bedroom whose only details I notice are the white and pink colors.

And there we make muted love that's so tender and so sweet, at least on my end, that I almost want to cry.

But I'm Nick.

I'm a man and I don't cry.