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Assistant: Title: Kingmaker
        Author: GenSIMP GenSIMP 
        Chapter: 1/8 
        Summary: Heinrich 'Hynce' Capon and Oldrich of Talmberg were said to be the spitting image of their sires. And unbeknownst to them, were also following in their fathers' footsteps. On the eve of Hussite Wars secret deals and truces were made, families torn apart by differing beliefs, and a country laid waste. The two young lords must decide upon which hill they were willing to die.And they must survive until the two envoys bring back a new king for Bohemia.
        Contents: Chapter 1: Parley
    

    


      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    Rattay, 1419All was quiet on that bleak autumn morning. Though it was supposed to be market day and the whole town was present, yet none dared to speak above a whisper. War didn't exactly make for a cheerful topic. Especially when it came knocking at your front door.Perhaps God had deemed the people of Rattay too fortunate, too arrogant in their treatment of war refugees all those years ago. For now they had a chance to see a glimpse of that horror themselves. All huddled close, their eyes were darting around, glancing anxiously between the slow moving portcullis and the safety of St. Nicholas church close by. Some already did take refuge in the church, though most were gathered at the upper castle's courtyard. Outside the town dark lines were forming on the horizon.The moat and cliff will protect us, one said while huddled neath the stable, and we have plenty enough to withstand a siege until our allies come for a rescue, won't we? But what ally? Another chimed in. When said ally turned tail and ran for Kuttenberg, leaving our lord for dead at the hands of those heathens. Traitors, the lot of 'em. Just like Judas. Hail Mary, full of grace--some started praying, perhaps some had not stopped at all. Not since the messenger from Zivohost arrived last eve, all torn up and barely alive.Along the battlements were archers and crossbowmen in yellow black waffenrock. Arms at the ready and shaking with nerves, for they were able to see farther than the citizen and saw how much they're outnumbered. And to think that this was just a small detachment! Meant to chase after retreating foe, not even the main army. Look there. Across the wooden bridge, on the northern plains, strange banners and pennants were raised. That of a golden chalice on a field of red.There were a good few hundred men marching towards Rattay that morn. Some were saddled on noble looking horses, though most were on foot or, stranger still, riding atop open wagons. They didn't look half as mighty as the army of the Catholic Lords. More akin to peasants who turned into banditry. With their spiked flails, pistoles, and two-pronged pitchforks abound. Mismatched armour pieces and fiery eyes full of faith. Perhaps it was what sustain them to be so cruel.Perhaps a little faith could sustain him too.Heinrich 'Hynce' Capon rode out alone on his steed while hiding his paleness in a colour of sheer bravado. Audentes fortuna iuvat, his father always said, audentes fortuna f@ck@ng iuvat. He had just seen his fifteenth summer this year, barely in time before the king's passing. It was as if someone above the clouds had designed it so he could be lord in a punctual manner.And some lord indeed he became. One whose eyes were rimmed in red and face stiff as stone. His golden hair matted with nervous sweat and his once fairness covered under a black mourning garb. He looked like a complete farce, if he may be honest. But honesty had no place on that most terrible morning.He raised his hand to still the nervous archers above. The young noble meant to parley with their enemies. No blood shall be shed today, he hoped, but most of the men-at-arms still in Rattay were inexperienced. At most they had only fought with brigands and skirmish with passing robber barons, never an army proper. Their hands might tremble and slip; out of nerves or vengeance or simply out of a need to survive.He was much the same. As young and inexperienced as the men he led. Unready and untested. Left behind while the older, wiser ones went out and died for someone else's stupid war.Across the field, a knight in full armour broke away from the standing troop. Following in his wake were two heavy trodden wagons, the contents of which could only meant grief. Hynce felt a rush of blood to his head at the sight. For a brief moment, he let the heat of anger sing in his veins while bitter bile flooded his tongue. This was how God wills it for his family to be torn apart.The coming knight stopped a few paces away and opened his visor. Beneath was a familiar face. Whose knees Hynce had played upon as a babe, and who claimed to think of the young lad as his own child."Nephew," the Hussite captain, Sir Victor of Kunstadt, nodded. "Or should I say Lord of Pirkstein.""I would have liked to remain heir for a few more years. But alas, dire circumstances--one in which you played a part of--dictate otherwise." Hynce took a measured breath before going on calmly as he could muster. "Nevertheless, 'tis matter not... Greetings, uncle.""Glib as ever, just like his father." Sir Victor wore a tight smile and mumbled under his breath. There was a hint of fondness in his gaze. Uncalled for, really, considering their situation."Don't speak ill of the dead, dear uncle. But thank you, I'll take it as a compliment."Their tepid friendly banter was far from a formal parleying. It came easy, which made Hynce feel all the more bitter and nauseous. It grew heavier still once he glanced upon the caskets brought by those wagons. Then, sorrow-filled, his voice cracked."Is that my father?""I'm sorry, Hal. I wish it hadn't come to this."He wondered where it first gone wrong. Did it really begin with the burning of Jan Hus? Or did it begin with the marriage between Hanush of Leipa and Marketa of Sternberg? Or was it the killing of Radzig Kobyla at the hands of frenzied believers? Was it the death of Divish, the Prague Burgrave, last winter? Perhaps it actually began when his father and Henry went to fight at the Battle of Grunwald alongside Zizka and Vytautas. Could he blame those pagan kings and Teutonic Knights? Maybe he could even blame King Wenceslas for dying without a child and for making Emperor Sigismund heir to the Bohemian throne.Perhaps Hynce himself was partly to blame, for being born between the loveless union of Lord Hans Capon and Lady Jitka of Kunstadt.Young he may be but he's not so blind as to not see the twisted branches that made his family. He could see how utterly devoted his father and Henry was with one another. He could also see that his Uncle Victor was his mother's first cousin as well as her lover. He knew that some people still questioned whether he was the son of Sir Hans or Sir Victor. He also knew that war wouldn't be waged upon silly premises. Yet a small part of him still questioned if, perhaps, those little things moved their hands in such a way that this result was inevitable.Alas, it mattered not in the end.'Twas all the same. He was powerless, afterall; a mere p@wn upon a board he knows not the full design. The noblelad shook his head."War is a nasty business. It made even kith and kin slay one another given their beliefs. That much I understand. And Sir Henry, his squire...""We also brought his remains with the proper respect. And as of the rest of your men, the wounded and those who surrendered are recuperating at Jankov. Under the protection of your friend, Lord of Talmberg. The dead are buried in consecrated grounds. We take no prisoners."The two regarded the caskets in the wagons for a quiet moment. Nary a few weeks before, Hynce had rode out of this very gate to wish them luck in battle. And now the effervescent Sir Hans Capon, Lord of Rattay, and his ever loyal squire, Sir Henry of Skalitz, were supposed to return cold and dead in a casket both. Delivered to their front door by the very enemy who had slain them."It is a strange time, indeed." Hynce mused with a hollow smile. His voice rang clear and loud enough for his people to hear. "That an enemy troop would show more deference and grace towards the fallen than one's own ally. Tell me, Sir Victor, how was my father--"Last moments.He was grasping at words. It was a lie so vile that his tongue refused to move. Yet it served its purpose enough. Sir Victor nodded at the young noblelad's cue and raise his head to regard the people of Rattay.Though for a brief moment the man's eyes searched the crowd. Looking for a certain noblelady's presence yet finding none. Then his disappointment quickly turned into acceptance. An understanding. It was the kind of longing and softness Hynce knew well; for his own sire wore it often too. Though instead of directing it to his wife, his lord father wore it only for Henry. And the young noble wondered, rather enviously, if he himself was ever in the sights of these adults."Hear ye o' people of Rattay!" The commander's voice roared for all to hear."Your Lordship, Sir Hans Capon, Lord of Pirkstein and Polna, had fought bravely to the bitter end. When the coward Peter Konopistsky of Sternberg ran away from battle, your lord stayed and covered their retreat. For Lord Capon's bravery and honor, we, the Kalisnici, swear to never raise our banner against the town of Rattay. In Our Lord's name, we swear this."There was a buzzing of murmur blossoming from the frightened masses behind him. A choked relief and happy crying erupted from the lips of would-be widows and orphans. Armistice, at last, we had escaped the clutches of war! It was as if the town itself dared to breathe once more. And it was for them that they play this farce. To soothe the pain and fear away and took that burden upon himself, as rulers should. Or simply put; a propaganda."Though we stand with our respective beliefs, I see that the Kalisnicis are gracious and noble at heart." Young lord Hynce answered the verbal volley just as loud. His speech measured and controlled. "I thank you, lord uncle, for putting my heart at ease. May this armistice stays true, as I wish to observe a period of mourning for my father in peace."Both men got off their horses to join hands and made it official in the eyes of the people. Thus, the public cheered most heartily. There would be no letter of agreement out of this, nor would it be put down in record. Any legal standing would only bring scrutiny from the Catholic Lords upon Rattay and suspicions from the Hussites upon Victor. Sometimes, things like that mattered less as long as you won the hearts of the people."I can only give you one year, Hal. You have to make the most of it," Sir Victor whispered close to his ear as they shook hands. "I kept my word and I expect to hear word from you at haste.""I understand. You held your end of the bargain, and so shall I." He felt his jaw tightened and through gritted teeth his true feeling were whispered. The lad gripped the hand tighter. "But don't even think that this will absolve you from your sins, uncle. You took my father away from me and you've disgraced my mother so thoroughly."He was lashing out, he knew. This was him being childish and spiteful, for he had nothing to gain from provoking the other lord. Victor grew red with impotent rage, yet he smiled again still, almost to a sneer, and pulled Hynce into a bear hug. It hurt and it was suffocating for the man's armor was crushing him. Albeit to the public's eyes it was a performance of tragic familial love. A loving family forced to stand on opposite sides of war."You are better than this, Heinrich. Your father agreed to it and your mother is a good woman. Do not disrespect her like so," Victor hissed at his ear."My dear mother--" He gasped and struggled. "--is with child."That took the man by surprise. The grip loosened but Victor didn't let him go yet."What...?""And we both know that my dear father wasn't capable of that. He had done his duty by me."They fought in quick, harsh whispers. Their words no longer held the same refinement as before, but crude, angry speech. And malice was dripping from the noblelad's mouth at the end. Many said that he took after Sir Hans so thoroughly, both in appearance and his quick wit. But his father was kinder than he. His father was a much better man, he knew. Would Sir Hans be disappointed with the way he acted now? Alas, he couldn't help himself. Even a p@wn has his moment of weakness.Hynce managed to struggle free and saw that his uncle appeared shaken and lost for words. Shamefully, he felt a dark delight from it. To inflict back upon others what had been done unto him. A childish tit for tat, true, only it was played out on a very dangerous stage."You have my father, and I have your babe. Now we stand on even ground. Best you remember that." He staggered back a few paces before bowing politely."And with that I bid you farewell, uncle."He did not wait for an answer. For all he knew, the public had had their fill of this performance. The lords had parleyed and they achieved peace, albeit temporarily. Moreover, he did not appear to completely divorce himself from the Catholic side either, maintaining this delicate balance. It was enough. It was more than good enough.He took to his horse as Sir Victor did too. Their parting left an unpleasant taste, though Hynce tried to justify himself. He had a right to be angry. He had more than enough reasons to be. The Hussite force left as swiftly as they came, with none being plundered nor torched into ashes. Fortuna smiled upon Rattay that day, people would later say, they were blessed to have not shared the same fate as Benesov and Cesky Sternberg who was all but razed to the ground by the Hussites. Instead, in Rattay, the horde simply went their merry way to haunt the steps of Lord Peter Konopistsky en route to Kuttenberg.Meanwhile, the two wagons followed him back inside the town walls. The coachmen who brought the wagons looked haggard and battered, yet they were still alert enough. They had rode alongside the enemies from the scene of carnage to back home, carrying with them a most precious cargo. Hynce knew them well as Henry's loyal retinue who had known the good knight way back from Skalitz."Janek, Jaroslav.""Yes, milord.""Don't let others touch the caskets."They both nodded and said no more. Hynce took it as a sign that they had both been informed of the scheme as well. No less than a few steps after they crossed the walls threshold, people were closing in to swarm at them. Their hands reaching out to touch the wagons, frenzied as if they're reaching for the casket of a saint. Perhaps in the eyes of the common people, gripped by fear as they were, their lord's death seemed a worthy sacrifice. Salvation, almost. Like a saint.He could feel his heart beating ever so fast. The caskets were heavy and nailed shut, covered beneath black shroud. Everything was well and alright, he told himself. Hynce wore his grief more generously then, so that others would mind their manners."My good people, pray, give way so that my father and his loyal squire may rest in peace. I shall bring them to St. Matthew and wish to stand vigil for them. Do pray for their salvation, goodsirs and goodwives, may their sacrifice not be in vain."The crowd were made meek and tame by his genuine grief. They parted like Moses did with the ocean, then they followed behind the procession. Praying for the souls of their dear departed lords, for the safe return of their wounded loved ones, and the ones who died by their lord's side. They prayed for peace in Rattay and Bohemia, for protection and good health upon their good young lord.Priests, who had taken refuge inside St. Nicholas, joined them well-prepared. Bringing with them crosses and candles, reciting prayers and psalms alongside Hynce. The church bells were tolling, ceaseless like a hymn. It was a proper enough funeral procession. He could at least give his father and Henry that.The doors of St. Matthew were ajar when they arrived. Candles were already lit, the smell of burned incense wafted in the air and familiar faces awaited him there. Old Sir Bernard stood upright with his cane by the entrance. Hynce's childhood nurse, Theresa, was there as well. His chamberlain, Master Tobias, even that old miser Wolfram Pruda, and many others seemed respectfully sad too.Hynce nodded at them before alighting from his horse. He asked that noone but Janek and Jaroslav shall brought the caskets inside and drove the priests away to leave him alone."You did well, Sir Hynce." Old Bernard patted him on the shoulder. "But don't you think the priests should stay to recite prayers?""Thank you, Sir Bernard, but I wish to be left alone with my father and Henry. I wanted to stand vigil for them and... say my goodbyes. The funeral mass can be held by the morrow. "The retired knight nodded understandingly and patted him once again. Hynce then moved aside to receive a heartfelt hug from Theresa, whose face looked more tear stricken than he."All will be well, good sir, all will be."He let himself go for a trice and held his nanny tight like he would as a child. She gave him mighty comfort, she did. In his eyes perhaps it was only Theresa who remained pure and blameless among this mess. Nevertheless, even for her there was a role to play."Thank you, Theresa.. I'm sorry I have to ask you to wait by Father Godwin and my mother's side. The news might do them worse.""Of course, dear child. I will bring Pavlena to check on them too. Be well."He sent everyone away, including Janek and Jaroslav. Told them to rest and await for further instruction. Then he put his captain, Nightingale, to guard the door and keep everyone away. Though many people were still milling about out by the greens, near the churchyard gate. Wishing to stand vigil alongside their young, pious and fillial lordling. And because many of them felt genuine affection towards Sir Hans and Henry who, after all these years, had become some kind of local heroes to them.Hynce wouldn't hold it against them."Let them be, but tell them to disperse when evening bell tolls." He told his guard before finally closing the church doors shut.
  
  

    
      
        
        
          I took creative liberty to change some historical facts to better fit the story. Victor of Kunstadt is aged up and joined the Hussites 2 years earlier. Oldrich of Talmberg was born when Sir Divish was already 60+ years old, so I took the optional game event of him being Henry's accidental b@st@rd. Sir Divish still died around 1418, making Oldrich the Lord of Talmberg in his place. Jan Ptacek (Hans Capon) supposedly died around December 1419 and Hynce Ptacek officially became Lord of Pirkstein by 1420, the timeline was moved around a bit to fit the narrative.This has not been beta read, so any corrections and suggestions are welcome! English isn't my first language and I haven't written for so long, please be kind <3'
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