Cologne, June 21st 2010>
10:15
Shabana Husseini walked briskly along the corridors of the Grand Hotel, now doubling as headquarters of the Angevin European Army and conference centre for the Peace Congress. She grimaced sourly as she turned a corner ; it was far from the imposing surroundings the army had been used to at its Nuremburg Head-Quarters but the defeats of recent years had pushed it back first to Darmstadt, and now to Cologne. The stench of retreat to her mind filled the air itself.
Arriving at a varnished oaken door she nodded to the mustachioed guard - one of the veterans from the early campaigns in Provence when the Angevin Empire seemed to be winning. He nodded back ; no need for either of them to salute, the way things were with the army, in fact the whole country these days. Tugging at the tunic of her blue-and-silver dress uniform, Shabana made herself ready and rapped on the door.
"Enter" came the commanding voice from within.
Shabana cast the veteran outside an amused glance and did as she was bidden.
Inside, General James Wolfe was standing before a mirror, grimacing as he attempted to fix the cravat that some damned fool centuries ago had decided had to be part of the dress uniform of a general.
"Oh, for God's sake !" he snapped, whipped the length of offending material off from around his neck and glowered at it.
Shabana laughed, the first time she had done that in ... weeks she supposed. Wolfe paused, aware of how ridiculous he must look, then tossed the cravat onto the bed with a shrug,
"I don't think Bordeaux can sack me over that" he offered, "It would, though, be interesting should he try"
"It certainly would" she replied with a wicked grin, "I'd like to see Laren's reaction if he tried"
"I'm not sure I would" countered Wolfe, "I'd be afraid he'd combust the whole room"
"I saw him after Ragnar's death" Shabana remembered, "If he could have he would have gone straight to London and put a bullet through Cambridge's thick skull"
"It is a pity for the empire that he did not" agreed Wolfe, fastening his tunic, "Well" he looked around the spartan room, "I think we must take a deep breath and enter the lion's den"
"The lion and the wolf" Shabana opined as they exited his chamber.
Behind them them mustachioed veteran fell into an easy step.
The conference chamber was already seething with a mass of humanity, half an hour before the opening ceremony was due to be performed. Staff officers, catering officials all with an individual photographic pass, security staff and assorted flunkies from every branch imaginable raced around the room, putting things down, picking things up, moving things slightly, checking what someone else had just done, shouting to each other, calling on their short-wave radios and generally looking about as chaotic as a large group of people doing allegedly purposeful things can look.
Charles Keppel, Marquis of Bordeaux , and Governor of , well, most places now or so it seemed, stared in anger at the chaos. He buttonholed a passing staff officer,
"How the devil are we going to start this, this 'thing', on time ?!" he demanded
The man blinked and stared at the Governor,
"I think everything is going to schedule, er, sir" he ventured
"Harumph" Bordeaux bit down on a string of curses and turned sharply away.
He found himself facing the curving sweep of the hotel's Grand Staircase, and grimaced at what he saw there. Chatting amiably General Wolfe, his rival from as long back as the South African days, was trotting down the stairway with his Aide De Camp, that Baluchi woman (as he termed her). It was disgraceful. Had not the National Party in London demanded the removal of all non-European and female officers ? Wolfe was well-known for flouting authority; well, thought Bordeaux with a wry grimace, the upstart General would soon get his come-uppance. Once the small matter of peace with the Lombard Empire had been achieved there would be no hiding place for a defeated insubordinate general. Ha, Wolfe would be lucky to even get command of a Caribbean garisson after this !
"Good morning General" Bordeaux managed to say without too much vitriole colouring his voice, "You have forgotten your cravat"
"Good morning" Wolfe nodded curtly, "I have not forgotten it"
He held the Marquis' gaze until the meaning of that statement sank into the brain of the man who had garnered to his person the Governorship of Hannover-Oldenburg, Westphalia, Thuringia, Lotharingia, Burgundia, Flanders and Holland. Bordeaux smothered a growl and turned sharply away. Addressing a painting on the wall he spat, "Make sure you are properly attired for the opening ceremony" and without waiting for an answer stormed off into one of the sealed courtyards that had been reserved for conference delegates to walk, talk, deal, think or just get away from things.
The general glanced across at Shabana and winked,
"I told you he wouldn't sack me"
"Yet" she added in mock seriousnous
"Ha !" he ended the conversation there, leaving her wondering just what sort of 'ha' that had been. Resigning herself to never finding out, she followed him across the hallway to where several senior officers had just emerged from an elevator. Among their number she spied Commander Laren Magnuson...
Commander Saran Mahon, of half-Malay half-Irish descent, stood a little apart from the group , a stern frown on his face. It wasn't that he had anything against General Wolfe or his aide, or against Commander Laren Magnuson. It was the presence of non-military representatives he was having a hard time with. Saran was a veteran who had fought valiantly in the defence of the Swabian enclave of Sigmaringen (and how long ago that part of the war now felt !) and later across Lotharingia as the Swabians collapsed and the Angevin armies began to suffer from the twin evils of Lombard strength and inept command (the two generals commanding before Wolfe had been killed in action, both as a direct result of their flawed tactics). During his involvement in the war Saran had gained a loathing for the 'politicos' , those government officials or general staff commanders who meddled constantly with the front, usually to the detriment of the conduct of the war.
Like Laren he remembered with bitterness the death of Ragnar Magnuson, Laren's brother, whose airfleet, victorious in the skies of Provence, had been switched to the Lotharingia front, out-numbered and with few spare parts to face the triumphant Lombard airforce. It had ensured Ragnar's force a valiant death, and its commander a more horrible one, burning to death in his parachute. Saran laid this evil primarily at the door of the doddering Earl of Cambridge, commander-in-chief of the Angevin Army. The continental governors, though took almost as much blame to his mind.
And two of them were now standing, chatting with the army officers and attempting to put a brave face on the loss of their territories to the Lombard Empire. Titular governors they were now, though even that had a dubious legality as the Marquis of Bordeaux had garnered to himself their titles in addition to those he had begun with.
Saran cast a disdainful eye over the young and haughty Earl of Angus, Farren Douglas as the self-important aristocrat attempted to engage Colonel August Mariott, the commander of the now defunct Armoured Corps, in conversation about the beauties of Cologne in the Summer. Sensing from Mariott's monosyllabic replies that he had not hit upon a subject close to the wounded veteran's heart, Angus switched track in mid-sentence ,
"...and what about Interior Minister LeGrange's stunning speech yesterday ?!" he enthused.
This was too much for Saran. He strode across to the group and took hold of the surprised perhaps-governor of Thuringia by his jacket and thrust him back against the wall,
"Now close that stupid little mouth of yours before I shut it for good !" snapped Saran. He spat in the aristocrat's face , "That is how much I give for LeGrange or any of those bastards at Saint James' ; if I had my way they would all be writhing on a stake over a blazing furnace !"
"I say !" spluttered Angus, attempting to regain his composure, "I say ..."
"Shut up, say nothing !" growled Saran, letting go of the sweating man who slithered down to the wall to fall in a heap on the floor.
Saran turned sharply to General Wolfe and nodded courteously,
"I am just going for a stroll in the courtyards" he breathed, swinging around and striding off before anybody could say a word.
"Are you going to let him get away with that ?!" demanded the other perhaps-governor, Sir Piers Hahn who had lost his domain of Lotharingia to either the Lombard Empire or the Marquis of Bordeaux, depending on your point of view.
Shabana grinned openly and looked up at the general. Wolfe appeared to consider things for a moment , then shrugged,
"I don't see why not" he said with a sharpness behind the smile.
Picking himself off the floor Farren Douglas avoided everybody's eyes and strode off in the opposite direction from that which Saran had taken.
"Now" General Wolfe beamed falsely around the small group, "Shall we go over the position statement that London wishes us to adopt - and then decide what we are actually going to say ?"
Too shocked to protest anything Sir Piers watched as the officers nodded their agreement. He tagged on at the back of the party as it headed across the hallway to one of the small meeting rooms put at the disposal of the delegations.
Above their heads the huge white-and-black clock hanging from the high ceiling showed quarter to eleven ; fifteen minutes before the opening ceremony was due to begin.
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Cologne, June 21st 2010
11:15
"Nothing should be more obvious" Marshal Topolowski intoned in his native Polish ; a whole gallery of interpreters translated this variously into English, German, Dutch, Flemish, French, Italian, Hungarian, and Latin, still the Lingua Franca when all else failed.
"I fail to see what is obvious !" Charles Keppel, Marquis of Bordeaux had risen to his feet as the translation reached his ears. He leant forward on the dark-wood desk and glowered across at the commander of the Lombard Army of the North.
Topolowski made an expoansive gesture with his hands and glanced down at Prince Gaius, his nominal superior as Governor of the Conquered Territories who seemed content to leave the victorious Marshal in charge of the negotiations. The Lombard Prince nodded for the Pole to respond as he judged fit ,
"Lombard armies occupy provinces previously under the rule of the Angevin Empire. It should be remembered that before they were ruled from London these territories formed parts of other realms, dating back to their conquest by the Golden Horde in the thirteenth century."
"This is nonsense !" snapped Boredeaux upon receiving the translation, "The position of the Angevin Empire is exactly synologous with that of the Lombard Empire - we are an expanding power ..."
"No" , it was Prince Gaius who had spoken , having an understanding of English he had not had to wait for the translation, "The Angevin Empire is a retreating power."
"That cannot be denied" added Marshal Topolowski as soon as the translation reached his ears.
"We have agreed to a discussion !" snapped Bordeaux, "The Angevin Empire did not capitulate"
"Granted" agreed the Marshal, "But a request for peace made from a position of weakness is an admission of defeat."
General James Wolfe sat further round the circular ring of tables. He had graciously ceded the positions closest to the Marquis of Bordeaux to a trio of governors (the third being the veteran Brian Monroe, Earl of Cork who had been replaced in Thuringia by the Earl of Angus before the war came North to that province). Wolfe sat with Shabana to his right and Laren Magnuson to his left. Beyond Laren, Commander Marco Van Dyck of the Angevin Helicopter Corps abutted with the governors. Past Shabana to the right sat Saran Mahon, August Mariott and , next to the exit, the general's Personal Aide Larennia Da Court, ready to leave and do his bidding if required.
Opposite them the Lombard Empire had a slightly smaller delegation ; led by Prince Gaius and Marshal Topolowski they also included the Count of Pisa, Military Governor of Savoie-Burgundia, General Johannes Groener, commander of the Hungarian Defence Zone and sucessful co-commander of the Lombard drive into Central Germania, as well as Topolowski's nephew Andreas Split, commander of the elite First Armoured Division.
Wolfe watched the exchanges between Bordeaux and Topolowski with scarcely-disguised impatience ; the opening position statements had yet to be made and yet here were passions being raised about issues that were hardly even up for discussion. Beside him Shabana whispered in his ear ,
"Of course they have differing views of things ; what good do they think arguing over them will do ?"
His hearing acute, Laren Magnuson also heard the aside ; he snorted an answer less sotto vocce than his comrade's
"Its just posturing" he growled
He had spoken louder than he had intended. The words crossed the chamber and Topolowski demanded a translation from the surprised interpreters in the gallery. He frowned at the words, then nodded abruptly. Turning from the Marquis of Bordeaux to address General Wolfe the Pole made an invitation,
"Perhaps it is time that the opening statements were made ?" he enquired
General Wolfe did not wait for permission from the Marquis. He rose to his feet and bowed at the courtesy shown to him by the spokesman of the Lombard delegation , and the leader of the armies which had bested him in Westphalia. As he unfolded a sheaf of notes, there was a commotion further along as Sir Piers Hahn whispered hastily to the Governor. Bordeaux made to interrupt his general but Wolfe began to speak before he could do more than open his mouth,
"The immediate positions that our two empires find ourselves in are undeniable. The Swabian Confederacy has been destroyed and its Swiss, Swabian and Black Forest provinces occupied by the Lombard Empire. The Angevin provinces of Thuringia and Lotharingia are entirely under Lombard control while areas of Hannover-Oldenburg, Westphalia and Burgundia are also occupied by the forces of Emperor Octavian III
In the Mediteranean the Angevin fleet has been reduced to a battered squadron, sheltering in rented facilities at Cadiz.
In battle the Angevin Empire has been bested in the skies despite valiant efforts. The Lombard Airforce is superior in numbers and Lombard missile technology is of more advanced design than that of the Angevin Empire. The Angevin helicopter gunships however remain undefeated.
The Angevin Lionheart tank is of a superlative design but too few arrived too late to do lasting good in the campaign. Recent Angevin recruits have lacked training and battle-experience ; unlike the Lombards who can draw on veteran units from any part of their empire the Angevin Empire decreed that excellent Indian and Johore units were not to see action in Europe.
Given the calamitous command of previous generals, both of whom managed to lose their lives, most of their armies and large swathes of territory, the position of the Angevin army was already a desperate one when the current command was ordered from its successful Provencal campaign to take command in Westphalia.
The continuing run of defeats in Burgundia further weakened the current command to the point that the Lombard forces were receiving large numbers of reinforcements in the North who came straight from victorious engagements to boost the strength of their thrusts into Westphalia and Hannover-Oldenburg at a crucial time.
Political considerations prevented the opening of negotiations whilst the relative positions of the two empires was more advantageously balanced as far as Angevin interests were concerned. Political considerations also attempted to undermine the role of non-European and female officers in the Angevin European Army ; this policy was not applied to units under the current command's direct oversight but had a weakening effect in secondary theatres and in the standard of reinforcements coming straight from training
The current command was given permission to open these negotiations only when the position in the North had become untenable. It is now the duty of the current command to attempt to defeat the Lombard Empire by diplomacy when this has not been achieved by warfare."
As General Wolfe shuffled his papers and prepared to launch into Part Two there was general uproar in the chamber. The Marquis of Bordeaux leapt to his feet, boiling over with rage,
"You traitorous bastard !" he yelled across at his army commander, "That is not the statement London provided you with !"
He was joined in his accusations by Sir Piers Hahn, witness to the many changes that Wolfe and his closest officers had made. Hahn was shouting as much as the Marquis,
"You would sell our provinces !"
"You are all weasels !" yelled the Earl of Angus, jumping to his feet and venting the rage that had built up in him after that morning's incident.
Across the chamber Marshal Topolowski, Prince Gaius and General Groener had launched into a furious and fast discussion, switching between Italian, Latin and German almost without thought. The Count of Pisa kept trying to get a word in but failed to make any impression on the swiftly-flowing exchange. Only Andreas Split sat back watching the shouting and agitated hand movements with a wrily raised eyebrow.
He had his mirror in the Earl of Cork, Brian Monroe sitting deadly still at the desk as the other governors stood, screaming and pointing in the direction of the army command. Something had to break , he was sure.
It did. As the Earl of Angus screamed insults at the top of his voice, Saran Mahon decided that he could stand things no longer. He rose slowly and menacingly to his feet and strode the small distance towards the angry governors. General Wolfe turned to watch him pass. Laren Magnuson half-rose to intercede, then seeing the look on Saran's face sat back down.
Saran went right up to the young earl and just stood there for a moment, staring murderously at Farren Douglas who spluttered to a halt. A sharp smell assailed Angevin noses as a puddle formed beneath the suddenly-terrified aristocrat. Saran held the scene for several more seconds then launched a massive punch into the earl's astonished face.
The perhaps-governor of Thuringia was launched into the air, arched backwards over the desk and crashed onto the floor between the two delegations, stopping the excited Lombard discussions in mid flow. Silence descended on the chamber as if somebody had turned off the sound.
Saran looked at his fist and rubbed a sudden soreness there. He cast a thunderous glance at the Marquis of Bordeaux, then pushed past him out of the chamber.
Behind him General Wolfe unobtrusively signalled for his Personal Aide, Larennia Da Court, to slip out of a different exit and follow the commander.
For another few moments silence continued then Sir Piers Hahn moved,
"Shit shit shit !!!" he shouted, leaping over the table and coming to rest beside the unconscious Earl of Angus , "He lives" he reported tersely, "But ..."
There was no need to continue ; it was plain for all to see that many of the aristocrat's teeth lay scattered over the floor and his nose was a mass of splintered bone and cartilage. The Marquis of Bordeaux turned towards General Wolfe,
"You are responsible for this !" he snapped.
Across the chamber Prince Gaius made a signal with his hands ; all interpreters gave his voice priority over the others which were now beginning to fill the room,
"This session is adjourned until the evening" he declared. As senior delegate of the victors he was in a position to make such an announcement.
General Wolfe folded away his notes, nodded a silent answer to a silent question from Shabana Husseini, and left the chamber, quickly followed by the rest of the Angevin military delegation.
Hands clenched by his sides, the Marquis of Bordeaux watched them go . . .
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Cologne, June 21st 2010
14:00
It was a hot Summers day in Cologne. General James Wolfe and his Aide-de-Camp Shabana Husseini walked in the shade of one of the Grand Hotel's many small courtyards. Outcrops of trees secluded them from any prying eyes and the gentle birdsong from the leafy branches seemed to give the lie to the momentous decisions that the Peace Congress had been convened to decide ; surely the world was not a warlike place, you thought, when walking in such a miniature paradise.
But it was . . .
"Well . . ." Shabana finally broke the silence on the morning's drama. For the last couple of hours the Angevin military commanders had studiously found other subjects to talk about whenever they were together. Now the time had come for talking
"Indeed" acknowledged the general, "Things are going to be... interesting I think the word is."
"Well" Shabana repeated, "That is one word. Bordeaux is going to call for the removal of Saran from the delegation"
"I know" Wolfe grinned dangerously, "And I am going to ignore him."
"Which won't lead to a harmonious atmosphere" Shabana pointed out
Wolfe laughed ,
"There was never much chance of that ! Certainly none from when we decided to alter the statement London had so kindly provided us with."
"It was the right decision" Shabana insisted
"Yes" he nodded, "You were right"
They were quiet for a few minutes while Wolfe played over something in his mind and Shabana waited to see what it was that he was mulling over. They were easy in each other's company and the silence was one of shared understanding , not anything awkward at all
"2007" states Wolfe, "I disagreed with you then"
"But you think I was right now ?" asked Shabana
It had been their one serious disagreement during the course of the war. After the defeat and death of General Alan Arkwright command of the Angevin Army of Europe had fallen vacant. Wolfe had been subordinated to Arkwright by the Marquis of Bordeaux, political supremo on the front, and had operated in a subsiduary role from his head-quarters at Strasbourg. Upon Arkwright's death Bordeaux had unilaterally appointed Hugh de Fouras, a kinsman of Army C-in-C the Earl of Cambridge to the command. De Fouras had leap-frogged Wolfe to a command there was little evidence he was fit for, the action the latest in a feud between Bordeaux and Wolfe that dated back to their 1990s service in Southern Africa. Shabana had urged Wolfe to defy Bordeaux and take for himself the position of army commander in Thuringia, but Wolfe, aware that to act so was to risk his position had bowed to the politicos in London and allowed Bordeaux to place him under De Fouras. Wolfe had gone on to success in Provence whilst De Fouras had suffered a series of heavy defeats that saw Lombard units enter Westphalia. Only then was Wolfe called to command the main armies . . .
"It is possible" he smiled across at her, "The war was winnable then"
"And the laws less harsh" she frowned, "though bad, still bad"
Wolfe nodded ; there had been more to Shabana's urging than strategic vision. The increasingly xenophobic National Party government in London had reacted to the war, and especially to the defeats, by instituting a series of laws to prevent foreign-born or non-European officers serving with the army, and to purge the army of female officers, all things it believed was weakening the Angevin fighting spirit. Shabana had only retained her commission and high rank by virtue of Wolfe's complete contempt for the order ; most of his best commanders would never have been able to enter the Angevin army if these rules had existed in the past - Shabana was born of Baluchi parents, Laren and Ragnar Magnuson were Danish refugees from the Black Cross' counter-revolution on Heligoland, and Saran Mahon was as much Malay as he was Irish.
"The politicos allowed their balls to rule their minds" Wolfe opined, "Racial purity in an empire composed of English, Irish, Scots, French, Flemish, Dutch and Germans ?!"
He spat his contempt for the intellects of such men as ruled in London.
"The future will be a dangerous place" Shabana offered, "I don't mean the Peace Congress but what will happen afterwards."
General Wolfe paused in mid-stride and looked straight ahead at a solid-looking birch,
"Sometimes" he said slowly, "I wonder where I parked my own brain... I have been so caught up with work here that I have scarcely given a thought for the future."
"And now ?" she asked, forcing him to look at her by the emotion in her voice
"Now" he said simply, "Now..."
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Cologne, June 21st 2010
18:00
Shadows cast by the lowering sun's dipping beyond the heights of the hotel towers began to cast their flickering phantoms over the wide spaces of the hallway. Groups of white-uniformed Lombard Imperial Guards stood everywhere, Prince Gaius in their midst as he waited.
A few moments later the Marquis of Bordeaux together with Sir Piers Hahn and the Earl of Cork appeared at the top of the great staircase. Staring in shock at the troopers standing in their path, they came down slowly, casting suspicious glances everywhere. Bordeaux strode right up to the Lombard Prince, remembering that he both spoke and understood English,
"What is the meaning of this outrage ?!" he demanded, gesticulating around him at the soldiers
Prince Gaius smiled and shook his head,
"This is the Lombard Empire's half of the agreement"
Intense puzzlement reigned over the Marquis' face. Before he could press for a better explanation there was a commotion at the doors which led outside into Cologne's main square. The Marquis watched in shock as General Wolfe led his military delegates and several dozen blue-and-silver uniformed troopers into the hotel.
The general ignored his political superior and instead addressed Prince Gaius directly,
"An equal number of soldiers of the Angevin Swabian Guard has arrived" he announced
"Very well" Prince Gaius nodded agreement, "Inform their commander that he can take up the allotted positions"
"Allotted positions ! Swabian Guard !" spluttered Bordeaux. The Swabian Guard had been formed from the remains of Shabana's and Laren's 'advisor' forces when they had been forced to evacuate Swabian territory, and now numbered only several hundred, their ranks thinned by conflict as no replacements were ever eligible for the regiment. As such they were amongst the foremost warriors of the Angevin Empire - and they were intensely loyal to General Wolfe. There was worse to the Marquis' eyes as the regiment's commander, an Indian son of a Rajah, saluted Prince Gaius and turned to baul orders to his several dozen men.
Seeing that he was being ignored, the Marquis swallowed his fury and demanded an explanation,
"I order you to explain !" he growled at Wolfe, "I require an explanation !"
Wolfe turned from the Lombard prince to his political superior,
"It was decided that after the incident precipitated by the Earl of Angus there was an urgent need to establish order for future sessions. Prince Gaius and myself agreed that an equal number of wholly trustworthy guards should be posted within the hallway outside the conference chamber"
"This is outrageous !" snapped Bordeaux.
He saw the amused look upon the Lombard prince's face and bit back his diatribe. Instead he hissed,
"I should have been consulted !"
Then, realising that this made him look even weaker, he stormed off into the conference chamber, finding that only the Count of Pisa was yet present. Furiously ignoring the ingratiating Italian, Bordeaux sat down angrily, still seething. 'Wholly loyal' ! Oh yes, wholly loyal to Wolfe, to that bitch Husseini and to the Dane (as he still thought of Laren Magnuson). Well , he would find a way to bring the arrogant general down to Earth - not with a bump but with a shattering explosion - that he promised !
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Cologne, June 21st 2010
18:30
It was time. Prince Gaius had made his reconvening speech, expressing the hope that this session would be more peaceful and less fraught than the morning's attempt. He referred in disparaging terms to the absent Earl of Angus, creating a seething rage in the Marquis of Bordeaux and barely concealed anger in Sir Piers Hahn. The Earl of Cork for his part looked thoughtful and interested.
Then it fell to General Wolfe to take up where he had left off in the morning. The Marquis sat back in his chair, apprehensive and with his arms stiffly folded across his chest, his jaw set in a harsh line as he regarded his theoretical subordinate. With an almost invisible nod to Shabana (but Bordeaux saw it and raged inside all the more), the general stood and laid out on the table before him the now much-creased notes he had written earlier that day. He would only need to refer to them for specific detail.
"The informed view of the current command is that sensible and realistic negotiations should begin with an acceptance of the reality of our relative positions. The Lombard Empire is in the ascendancy. The Angevin army has been defeated but remains in the field. Its veteran and elite units remain ready for battle , as does the force of helicopter gunships and the remainder of the armoured corps.
However it cannot be denied that the bulk of the Angevin Army of Europe is inferior in both quality and quantity to that of the Lombard Empire. Taking this together with the Lombard occupation of Angevin territory it is completely unrealistic to expect the forces of Octavian III to agree to any return to the status quo ante-bellum even if the Angevin Empire were to concede that the Swabian lands now form part of the Lombard realm
Wise heads must prevail at this Peace Conference. It is the usual practice in warfare that the defeated power give up territory to the victor. That the Angevin Empire has hardly ever been in anything like a comparable position does not exempt it from the requirements it has many times imposed upon its own vanquished enemies
It is the duty of the current command in these negotiations to attempt to minimize the losses of Angevin territory, rather than hold to a impossible position of insisting upon there being no losses at all. It is the considered view of the current command that an attempt to impose the latter would only lead to a renewal of the Lombard offensive and further losses that would have to be ceded at a later meeting between representatives of both empires.
It is difficult for clear minds to see any justification in insisting that the Lombard Empire evacuate Thuringia. Indeed, it is hard to find a cohesive argument for Angevin resumption of rule in Lotharingia, other than a wish that the territory remain under the sovereignty of Emperor Arthur II.
This conference must see Angevin attempts to restrict Lombard gains to these two provinces, and argue successfully for the retention of Angevin rule over the whole of Westphalia , Burgundia and Hannover-Oldenburg, provinces which are to various extents under partial Lombard occupation."
The speech was met by stunned silence at the far end of the table where the three governors sat. Across the chamber Prince Gaius had reasoned that such a follow-up to the morning's introduction would be in the offing and, though enthusiastic, the Lombard delegation this time remained calm.
It was Sir Piers Hahn who broke the silence,
"How much are the Lombard bastards paying you to sign over my province !" he demanded of the general.
Wolfe sat impassive and refused to rise to such an attack. On the Lombard side, however, Marshal Topolowski spoke in Latin, being understood before the interpreters above could speak into the ears of the Angevin delegates,
"The troops outside of both nations stand ready to enter the chamber and remove any individual threatening another"
"You bastard !" Bordeaux spat at Wolfe
"Traitor" snarled Sir Piers, but quieter than before ; the image in his mind was of Lombard or Swabian Guard troops (he couldn't decide which was worse) dragging him screaming from his chair .
"Now" smiled Prince Gaius, "The Lombard position"
Marshal Topolowski rose to deliver a speech which had long-since been drawn up, even before the exact location of the Peace Conference within the city had been finalised.
General Wolfe settled back to listen with interest. The Marquis of Bordeaux scowled at any and everyone. The Earl of Cork prepared to make notes upon the pad before him . . .
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Cologne, June 22nd 2010
10:45
General James Wolfe and Commander Shabana Husseini left the general's chambers and walked swiftly along the red-carpeted corridor. Behind them followed the mustachioed guard, a big smirk upon his face. . .
"I wonder what joys lie before us today" yawned Wolfe ; he had had little sleep the previous night but had often gone with less so remained unworried by the tiredness in his limbs - that would pass once the action began, but what sort of action would today see . . . ?
"Prince Gaius made some reasonable points last night" noted Shabana. She rubbed at a bruised rib and continued, "I am not sure London will see it that way, though"
"It is a concern" agreed Wolfe, "Bordeaux is also likely to cause even more trouble as we attempt to move towards the details"
"I remain to be convinced he even agrees to the opening positions ; a night to get even angrier at us has probably convinced him to renege upon his reluctant consent"
"Truth" sighed Wolfe, then a twinkle appeared in his eye, "I wonder if he knows ?" he asked
Shabana laughed,
"I expect he believes it even if he doesn't know . .."
They both laughed as they approached the head of the grand staircase. Behind them the mustachioed guard reflected that someone in his position could make a lot of money - if he were not so loyal...
Laren Magnuson was alone. In some ways he felt he was always alone ; the horrific death of his brother had seemed to sunder him from his closest associates. He felt as if an invisible wall always divided him no matter how friendly the conversation was. This morning, though , he walked alone in one of the Grand Hotel's courtyards. The decision by Wolfe and Prince Gaius to station troops within the hallway had one benefit he could see - he had been able to instruct the Arabic Lombard officer to deny entry into this specific courtyard to anybody else. He would remain alone until it was time.
Locating, after a few minutes of aimless wandering, the small gently gurgling fountain and the green-painted iron bench, he sat slowly upon the decorative metal slats and looked into the twinkling depths of the pool. Where was his life going ? He had a glittering service record ; 'advisor' to Swabian forces in Geneva, victor of early engagements over the Lombards, later subordinate to Wolfe and victorious in Provence, then . . . then things had gone to hell. Ragnar's switch to the Northern front, the daily news bulletins of losses to his airfleet, then the final communiqué of his brother's loss in action before the Lombards had chivalrously returned his body for burial . . .his hideously burnt and disfigured body he corrected himself. That was something which could never be forgotten.
It had done something to his life, warped his worldview. It had not affected his ability as a soldier ; if anything he had got better though the odds had got worse and the position more desperate once Wolfe had taken over in Westphalia and the Lombard forces were streaming across Central Germania. He wondered what other people thought of him ; did they even notice ? Perhaps his change inside was so little reflected on the outside - or perhaps they had all changed and nobody was noticing each other these days ? That seemed a more likely explanation...
His last experiences of war had seen the occupation of Kassel and the defeat of Lombard forces there back in the Spring before the Lombard counter-strike (and they had had so many troops !) forced his retreat. He had even attained the East bank of the Weser, but it was not to be. The defeat of Mariott's armoured division at the Mosel had sealed the Angevin defeat ; the Marquis of Bordeaux had instructed Wolfe to accept previously-spurned Lombard offers to discuss peace, and Octavian III had instructed Marshal Topolowski to agree.
So, where was his career now ? He still had an armed command, veteran and by the standards extant in the rest of the Angevin armies in Europe elite, troops, warriors as he preferred to think of them, loyal to their commander (himself) and to General Wolfe even before loyalty to the Emperor in London. That went especially for the Indian, Johore and female officers , excellent personnel whom the politicos in London attempted to blame for defeats that they were primarily responsible for. Only General Wolfe's protection had allowed Laren to flout government orders to remove such individuals from his forces ; the level of contempt he had for their policies was indescribable, at least if he hadn't been drinking heavily beforehand.
It was no coincidence that the officer of the Swabian Guard he had selected to command the detachments to be posted at the Grand Hotel was the son of an Indian Rajah ; let that be a metaphorical spitting in the face of Bordeaux !
But his anger was getting him nowhere. He had forgotten the reason why he had sought solitary solace here by the fountain in the first place...
The huge clock in the hallway chimed eleven o'clock. Sighing, Laren rose to his feet and headed towards the conference chamber .
"A statement on the position of the naval forces of the Angevin and Lombard empires" announced Marshal Topolowski, tirelessly utilising all available arguments as he made his opening position clear for all to see, "In the Mediteranean,. the Lombard fleet rules the waves. No Angevin surface force dares pass the Pillars Of Hercules, and no Angevin force had been active within the sea since 2007 - three years ago. Since this is the only theatre where Lombard and Angevin naval forces have come into conflict it can be considered again to be one dominated by the Lombard Empire. Commodore Van Haals pathetic remnants of a fleet sheltering at Cadiz do not deserve the name 'Angevin Mediteranean Fleet'. They would last only hours against the mighty Lombard Navy . . . "
Across the chamber General Wolfe doodled on the notepad in front of him ; he understood that the Marshal had to make these long and detailed points, but wished ... well, he wished he didn't actually physically have to be there to listen to them. Could he not just have read the report afterwards ? He sighed ; this was not how things were done...
On the pad before him a collection of curving lines, became a bird (much to his surprise) and several adjacent lines began to take on the aspect of a dragon as he added additional strokes to them
"You could have been an artist" Shabana whispered in his ear
"There is still time" he whispered back, then added only half-jokingly, "After the peace I'm going to need something to do !"
Shabana began to say something more but a deafening crescendo from outside shattered the stillness of the conference chamber. Wolfe stared in astonishment out of the window at the courtyard where a veritable whirlwind was whipping around, tearing leaves off the trees and sending the startled birds up into the sky. A gold-and-black shape descended into view, its rotor blades decapitating several of the nearest trees and felling the occasional flying creature as its pilot brought it in to land.
"That has to have received the consent of Angevin and Lombard air defences" remarked Marco Van Dyck, yelling into the general's ear as he leant over his shoulder, "They would not have let it in otherwise"
Wolfe reflected that his helicopter expert was right. He noticed that the only man showing no signs of alarm was the Marquis of Bordeaux. It was no surprise that, as the whine from the helicopter's rotors powered down from the intolerable to the merely horrendous, the Marquis rose to his feet. He spoke, the words lost in the din but the interpreters had them and sent translations into the ears of all,
"I will just go and greet our guests" Bordeaux had said.
"Guests ?" Shabana shouted in the general's ear
Wolfe made a gesture of puzzlement with his hand, still staring out of the windows at the helicopter. The blades were now turning sluggishly, almost at a stop. Pieces of leaf and feather continued to float back down to the ground like some peculiar form of rain. Two men climbed out of the helicopter's tiny compartment and met with the Marquis outside the narrow range of vision that those inside the chamber had.
"Hmmm" said Wolfe, a feeling of agitation beginning to build up inside of him, "I hate to sit here and wait on Bordeaux's sense of the dramatic. I think we should go and find out what is happening"
Across the chamber the Lombard delegation had clearly reached a similar conclusion. A puzzled frown on his face Prince Gaius led them out of one door whilst General Wolfe led his military commanders out of another .
In the hallway it was Saran Mahon who broke the silence that had descended, a silence partly made up of the ending of the final whines from the helicopter's power unit and partly from the shock, almost disbelief of the Angevin military delegation.
"Go home !" snapped the half-Malay technical expert, "We don't need your type here"
The recipients of his abuse had differing reactions. The one, the dapper and black-suited Angevin Foreign Minister Charles Cheynie, merely smiled a smile of superiority ; he was deputy leader of the National Party and it was as much his policies as those of First Minister Victor Grainer which had reshaped Angevin domestic politics over the last decade or so. The other, the uptight and thin-faced Interior Minister Lawrence LeGrange shuddered with barely concealed disgust. He stabbed a scrawny finger at the army officer,
"It is your filthy type which has led to this situation !" he cried
For once it was the Marquis of Bordeaux who stepped in as the role of mediator. A smile of victory on his face, he felt he was in a position where he could afford to be gracious, rubbing the tactical defeat into the army command,
"After the incapacitation of the Earl of Angus our delegation was down one man in number ; I thereby invited Minister LeGrange to join our team. Minister Cheynie is here merely as an observer for a short while."
"By the terms of the Peace Congress' establishment you should have informed me of this" Prince Gaius spoke with an icy irritation
"You failed to inform me of the posting of troops to the hotel" Bordeaux rebuffed, a superior smile upon his face.
Prince Gaius inwardly seethed but was diplomatic enough to keep his temper and remain silent. It was LeGrange who spoke again, having eyed Shabana standing beside General Wolfe,
"That foreign woman will have to go" he snapped
"Go to hell" growled Wolfe ; he had nothing but contempt for the Angevin Interior Minister. During the crucial campaigns of Spring 2009 Wolfe has left Shabana in command of the front and flown personally to London in an attempt to put his position to the emperor and make him see reason over the Indian and Johore units which were being denied access into Europe. Instead of an imperial audience Wolfe had been forced to kick his heels for a week before Interior Minister LeGrange had condescended to meet with him, restated the National Party's racist policies and instructed Wolfe to return to his command. As Wolfe had written to his cousin Michael Rhodes, a Commodore in the Angevin Atlantic Fleet, he viewed LeGrange as 'a thoroughly unpleasant beast of a man' . He was damned if he would now take his orders on anything whatsoever.
"You will do well to remember that you are representatives of the Angevin Empire" Foreign Minister Cheynie told the military commanders, "As such it is not unreasonable to expect you to obey the laws of that empire."
Saran Mahon showed his contempt by spitting on the floor, turning his back sharply on the government ministers and marching smartly off up the stairway. Seeing the Angevin delegation again torn by internal divisions Prince Gaius heaved a mighty sigh,
"We will adjourn this session also" he said, comparing it with the previous day's events, "Reconvention will be at 1800 hours"
With that he led the Lombard delegation towards the elevators. Wolfe had been silent and thoughtful since the reprimand from the Angevin Foreign Minister. Now he caught Shabana's eye and nodded almost imperceptibly. Shabana set out across the hallway to one of the smaller meeting rooms. Wolfe turned to the scowling figure of Laren Magnuson who had not tried to hide his hatred of these London-based politicos and was expressing it with every muscle on his face,
"I want a report on the state of the divisions under our direct command by 1700" he commanded quietly of the Danish-born officer, "Marco and August are to be counted amongst that number"
Laren tore his eyes away from the hated faces of the new arrivals and blinked. His mind repeated the general's words, this time with understanding. He nodded his agreement, and sweeping up the two other officers in his wake headed up the stairway in pursuit of the disappearing Saran.
With his Personal Aide, Larennia DaCourt in attendance, General Wolfe headed in the direction that Shabana had taken previously.
Behind his back Foreign Minister Charles Cheynie smiled triumphantly ; the power of the arrogant general would be broken once and for all over the next few days, then the National Party could extend its will over the forces treacherously exempted from the laws by their upstart general. He turned towards the Marquis of Bordeaux and Interior Minister LeGrange,
"Gentlemen, I will take news of what I have found here back to London. You can be sure that First Minister Grainer and Army C-in-C Cambridge will not hesitate to act this time."
Bordeaux grinned back openly,
"Thank you Minister Cheynie" he said gratefully, "Now, I think Minister LeGrange should be brought up to date with the situation as it stands within the conference chamber"
Taking his leave of the Foreign Minister, Bordeaux invited LeGrange to accompany him to his quarters and headed for the elevators, now vacant after the departure of the Lombard party. Behind him, momentarily forgotten Sir Piers Hahn hovered uncertainly then decided to head to the hotel's bar.
From within the conference chamber, the Earl of Cork watched thoughtfully as the Angevin Foreign Minister returned to the helicopter. As the noise from the rotors again annihilated the tranquility of the place, he pursed his lips together and tried to figure out what it was that he had seen that made him so apprehensive - it was not easy, however, to put his finger on . . .
- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -
Cologne, June 22nd 2010
18:00
Something was in the air. Brian Monroe, Earl of Cork could all but taste it as the Angevin and Lombard delegations made their way into the conference chamber. In fact, they entered in three groups - the Lombards, the Angevin military and the Angevin politicos. There was no conversation between members of Wolfe's half of the delegation and those of the Marquis of Bordeaux's. Both sides were tight-lipped, eyeing each other with mutual contempt - and . . . There was something more . Being the only impartial observer, or so the veteran ex-Governor of Thuringia liked to think of himself, he was able to see the same looks of quiet superiority on both sets of Angevin faces. Both looked like they had a surprise up their sleeves, surprises he had no doubt that would be aimed at their rivals within the Angevin delegation rather than at the cool and unperturbed Lombard delegation opposite.
The two sides took their seats and waited while Prince Gaius eyed the mood of the assembly. He then nodded to Marshal Topolowski to resume from where he had left off this morning. The tall Pole stood and began to outline the history of the war, the almost unbroken chain of Lombard victories in Germania that had been halted,, only temporarily by Wolfe's belated appointment to the field.
At exactly 18:10 Wolfe looked at Shabana, received an affirmative nod and rose to his feet,
"If I may interrupt" he said loudly
The Lombard delegation looked across in astonishment, whilst the Marquis viewed his theoretical subordinate with disquiet,
"I do not think" began Bordeaux but Saran's sour voice cut him off,
"Then shut up" snarled the half-Malay officer.
"I wish to make a statement on the disposition of Angevin military forces within Westphalia" General Wolfe informed the startled Lombards.
Prince Gaius caught and held the eye of the general for almost ten seconds, then opened his hands in a silent gesture of consent. Wolfe nodded his thanks and began,
"The line of the Rhein is held by General Mariott's armoured corps, recently reinforced by sixty untested and unused Lionheart II tanks under barely-trained but brave conscript crews.
Cologne itself is defended in the East by Commander Laren Magnuson's five under-strength but veteran divisions, including the regiment-sized Swabian Guard. Commander Saran Mahon has control of air defences on the city's Southern borders and his guns and artillery also guard the landward approach into the city. Commander Marco Van Dyck's helicopter gunships, operating from positions to the North of Cologne protect both Laren's and Saran's positions.
By the truce agreed with the Lombard Empire, General Andreas Split's First Armoured Division now holds all bridges over the Mosel and General Johannes Groener's Hungarian Defence Zone occupies Kassel and the land lying immediately East of the city. The White Division of the Imperial Guard is quartered within the city boundaries.
In addition Lombard airfleets operating from bases as far forward as Koblenz patrol the skies over Westphalia, though in recent weeks new Lancer jet fighters have begun to arrive in Hannover-Oldenburg and have established a shaky defence zone which theoretically includes air cover for Cologne.
The remnants of the Army of Burgundia has been boosted in numbers by the addition of the defence forces of Holland and Flanders, and by the arrival of several full-strength, fully-armed but virgin conscript divisions - all-European, all-male-officered divisions of course under the policy commanded by the government in London. "
At this point Interior Minister LeGrange made to rise from his seat and counter the implications that Wolfe was putting on government policy. Before he could get a word out Wolfe had ridden over his stillborn protest, his voice even louder as he continued
"The current military command at Cologne is expected to believe that the reinforcements and redispositons so mentioned have stabilised the Angevin-Lombard front and given Angevin forces rough parity with their imperial foes. That this is patently nonsense must be clear to the Empire of Lombardy.
"You absurd fool !" yelled LeGrange, this time getting his words out in a pause in the general's speech. Wolfe turned and signalled to his Personal Aide Larennia Da Court who slipped out of a side door. To the left of him LeGrange stared with hate-filled eyes from a half-standing position. The Marquis of Bordeaux looked perturbed but retained aspects of the superiority he had recently assumed since the events earlier in the day. Wolfe saw Larennia re-enter the chamber and resumed speaking
"However, the veteran forces in Westphalia remain a highly efficient and well-disciplined fighting force. Government doctrine from out of London would tear out the heart of this army and deliver its leaders to probable trial and imprisonment under laws that have only come into existence over the last few years.
I am authorised on behalf of the entire Westphalian command to issue the following statement -
Wars are fought for a variety of purposes ; many are fought in the name of freedom and liberty, in defence of beleaguered allies or of ideals threatened by the aggressor. It is the misfortune of some to fight for things that they do not believe in, to fight solely from a position of patriotism an enemy who is more admirable and honourable than their own government. Even so such service is usually rewarded whether victorious or ending in eventual defeat. Only a handful in history have fought valiantly to find that the country they call home has no longer got any place for them.
It is with a degree of sadness that the entire Westphalian command announces that is has found itself in such an iniquitous position. As of five minutes ago all army and airforce units were ordered to seek parley with the Lombard Empire on the basis of the request I am now to make.
As general in charge of the Westphalian command I speak with the support of the entire army and airforce leadership within the province. We humbly request that his imperial highness Prince Gaius of the Lombard Empire accept into his dominions both our forces and the territory under our control.
There was absolute uproar within the chamber ; all of the Marquis' sang-froid had vanished and he staggered to his feet holding the edges of the table, his face quivering with fury ,
"I will personally cut off your traitorous head !" he bellowed at his general
As if on cue the doors were flung open and a dozen Swabian Guards, accompanied by an equal number of white-uniformed Lombard Imperials entered the room, and with loaded weapons took up positions around the outside of the groups. The colonel in command of the Lombard forces hastily ran up to Prince Gaius and Marshal Topolowski, and indicating that they deactivate the microphones which made a direct line to the stunned interpreters in the gallery he issued a fast and furious report in Latin.
Two Swabian Guards seized hold of LeGrange as he sought to make the short distance to Wolfe's party. Screaming foul abuse and struggling in the iron grip of the veteran soldiers he remained dangling in the air as he was hauled to the sidelines.
Wolfe waited for a moment of relative calm then strode around the circular table to the Lombard delegates. With Shabana, Laren, Saran, Marco and Mariott in his wake he bent to one knee before the astonished Prince Gaius,
"I take it " he said quietly, "That you are not about to refuse the offer ?"
Marshal Topolowski gave an emphatic shake of his head. Still startled by the flow of events Prince Gaius merely said,
"I accept the accession of the Army of Westphalia and the territory they control into the Lombard Empire"
As historic speeches go it was short, but it was simple and to the point. It would be quoted everywhere for years to come in its entirety, unlike most speeches of note which have to be picked over for the jewels contained within.
Wolfe raised himself to his full height, nodded at the Lombard prince, and addressed his old foe, now his nominal superior Marshal Topolowski,
"I would suggest that Lombard units move to the line of the Ruhr immediately"
The veteran Pole had not got where he was by being indecisive. He saw at once the logic of the general's veiled request and turned to his nephew, Andreas Split
"Instruct the First and Third brigades of the First Armoured to seize the bridges across the Ruhr, then take personal command of the Northern front"
"At once !" the Croatian yelled with delight, leaping to his feet and all but running from the room
There was a sudden silence as Prince Gaius viewed the stunned and surrounded Angevin politicos across the chamber. Then he spoke,
"It should not be said" he said in his excellent English, "that the Lombard Empire lacks for honour and courtesy. You are not prisoners of war but a diplomatic mission ; I will ensure that you are returned to your own territory at the earliest opportunity."
"This is our god-damned territory !" snapped the Marquis of Bordeaux
Prince Gaius chose to ignore him and turned instead to his Polish Marshal,
"I will require transport and aerial escort to Milan without delay; the Emperor must be made aware of events here immediately."
"I will see to it now" Topolowski agreed, leading the Governor of the Conquered Territories out of the conference chamber and into the excited mass of troops gathering in the hallway beyond.
Surprised to find themselves suddenly left alongside General Wolfe and his commanders, the Count of Pisa and General Groener hummed and hawed, attempting to find something appropriate to say before Wolfe cut through the awkwardness,
"I would suggest" he offered, "that now would be a good time to return to our commands and ensure that everything is in shape"
The Lombard worthies could only agree with his sentiments and trailed after the departing general as he hurried out into the jubilant melee. Inside the chamber the two dozen Swabian Guard and Lombard Imperials stood impassive ; they had their orders and would not leave on their own initiative. A Swabian Guard officer of evident half-African origin came up close to the despised LeGrange who was still struggling in the arms of his restrainers. He looked into a face full of mutual loathing and contempt, then turned to address the Marquis,
"You are to be held here until transport outside the dominions of the Lombard Empire can be arranged"
"This is outrageous !" protested Bordeaux
"Filthy traitor !" Sir Piers Hahn shot in the direction of the ex-Angevin officer
"Black pig !" spat LeGrange
The officer whirled and delivered a punch to the Interior Minister's stomach that had him doubling up in agony as his restrainers unceremoniously dumped him on the floor.
Sitting a little apart from the commotion Brian Monroe, Earl of Cork reflected that it had been Wolfe's hushed words to Laren Magnuson earlier that day which had raised an alarm in him, but words unheard had failed to register on his conscious mind. He now, though, knew what they must have been about . . .