Diplomacy (2): A Formidable Foe
A truly formidable opponent. He was spreading false smoke screens, claiming his grip on power was shaky, all to maneuver toward his goals. In just a few years, he would undoubtedly solidify his rule as in the original history and turn to external conquests. It was a situation that could pose a real threat to us. But as the letter stated, refusing this proposal might make his threat to stand by while Gerard crushed my brothers a harsh reality. Southern Italy, where my brothers held sway, was our lifeline. Losing those production hubs churning out purple silk could plunge our currency reforms into dire crisis. Of course, Heinrich IV seemed blissfully ignorant of these internal workings. From the start, southern Italy had only shipped cheap dumping silk to Europe—not the purple variety—so he had no way of knowing. In any case, the key point, setting that aside, was that he craved our silk.
"Do you know anything about this surge in silk demand within the Holy Roman Empire?"
At my question, Godefroy replied as if he'd been waiting for it. "Demand has spiked recently due to a fashion craze sweeping the Empire."
A textbook answer. Claiming it was just a trend made it hard to probe deeper—an artful dodge. But I, knowing the history, recognized the lie. The real reason for the silk boom in the Holy Roman Empire? These silks were fueling their Eastern Colonization Drive.
The Eastern Colonization Drive. German-speaking peoples from the Empire migrated to the sparsely populated lands of Eastern Europe. Their sphere stretched beyond the Elbe River: East Germany, western Poland, Estonia, Latvia, even Transylvania. A vast wave claiming immense territories. Nineteenth-century nationalists spun it as the spread of Germanic civilization and Catholicism amid the Enlightenment craze, but in truth, it was naked land grabs. They drove out or co-opted the locals, rapidly Germanizing the regions. The prime tool for co-optation? Silk. They'd gift it to tribal chiefs to establish settlements, then flood in manpower from the Empire to swell the numbers. Once they outnumbered the natives, they'd seize the land outright.
Not every case was so brutal, of course. Places like the Duchy of Bohemia or the Kingdom of Hungary-Croatia had actively welcomed migrants on a national scale to fill labor gaps. But that was the thirteenth century. From the eleventh through twelfth centuries, as they colonized the Elbe basin, voluntary acceptance was exceedingly rare.
In any event, silk was essential for this colonization push. It was mainly used from late autumn after the harvest through winter—when military campaigns were impractical, so they'd rely on silk to buy loyalty. Budget-wise, it made sense too. Silk was pricey, demanding hefty purchases, so snapping it up en masse when coffers swelled in autumn was fiscally sound.
I knew all this, so I deliberately informed Godefroy we'd ship in spring—peak military season, when budgets ran thin. "I see. Then we'll send the silk come spring."
Godefroy looked visibly flustered at my words. Then he started spouting nonsense. "The Eastern Roman Empire is still in chaos after its civil war. There's no need to rush the shipment."
A tone dripping with false concern. But I shook my head, rejecting the "kindness." "No need to worry. We have ample stock, so we'll ship as soon as it's ready. As the Holy Roman Emperor said, this will serve as a bridge for normalizing relations between our realms—best to move quickly."
Godefroy's face twisted in discomfort. I drove the nail home. "Besides, fashions fade unpredictably. Shipping now would help persuade the princes, wouldn't it?"
Irrefutable logic from start to finish. Godefroy had no choice but to confess. "As Your Majesty knows, spring budgets make it hard to afford silk purchases. If you could grant us leeway on immediate payment, we'll buy."
"That's not feasible. Our civil war has ravaged state finances. We're selling silk to plug the holes, so we'd prefer payment on the spot."
"What if you sell in autumn? We could pay then without issue."
"Hold the silk in storage until autumn, you mean? Who covers the storage costs and risks in the meantime?"
Sell as soon as it's made—that's the profit play. Warehousing incurred management fees; it was a no-brainer. The Empire wanted massive quantities, and stashing that much silk would bleed us dry.
A deadlock of positions. Godefroy bowed politely, then ventured his thoughts cautiously. "My apologies, Your Majesty. This seems a matter for the Holy Roman Emperor himself—and the Imperial Diet—to confirm and decide. If it pleases Your Majesty, could you grant time to relay this to the homeland?"
I too needed to consult Zoi. So I readily accepted Godefroy's request. "We'll talk again once the Holy Roman Empire's reply arrives."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
And with that, the meeting ended. I headed straight for the office where Zoi waited.
"I see..."
I relayed my conversation with Godefroy to Zoi. After pondering my account, she shared her thoughts. "Just as we suspected, the emperor likely lacks the funds to buy it all outright."
"Probably. No direct battles, but dispatching massive forces abroad is a budget black hole."
The Holy Roman Empire had sent huge armies to the East. Even just the emperor's own guards would cost a fortune.
"Yet they made this play anyway... They might have assumed we'd refuse."
"Meaning they thought we'd reject normalizing ties?"
"Not quite. But they probably didn't count on us shipping silk immediately."
Zoi's reasoning rang true. The quantity Heinrich IV requested was enormous—impossible to fulfill on the spot for most. Our situation was unique, though; we held stockpiles exceeding his demands. As I'd mentioned, our silk was a weapon to check Gerard of Lorraine. Sounded odd, using silk to topple foes, but inflicting economic pain made it a strategic asset.
Stockpiling strategic goods was wartime essential. That's why we could meet the emperor's ask right away.
"Whatever the case, it's good for us."
"How so?"
"The emperor wants silk, and we have it. He can't afford to buy, but we can run our economy without it."
Heinrich IV craved silk but lacked the coin. We had it in abundance, and with economic recovery on track, we could plug budget gaps elsewhere.
"In diplomacy, that puts us in the driver's seat."
"True enough. But how do you plan to leverage that edge?"
"Offer deferred payments in exchange for an alliance."
"With the Holy Roman Empire?"
"Exactly."
Two nations born to clash. Their very names—Eastern Rome and Holy Roman Empire—doomed amity. They'd even drawn swords briefly. Wiping that slate clean for alliance strained imagination.
"Even with recovery underway, we need more time."
"Fair point. But there's more to it, right?"
Zoi nodded. "Hungary's eyeing the Kingdom of Croatia in our sphere, aiming to annex it."
The Kingdom of Croatia. Founded by Croats who'd migrated to Dalmatia, a Byzantine province. They ruled most of the Croatian coast (barring Istria) and the rugged interior—modern Croatia. In 1097, late eleventh century, Hungarian King Coloman clashed with Croatia's King Peter Snačić at Mount Gvozd, killing Peter. Coloman then claimed Croatia's throne, forging a personal union lasting until 1918.
These two had deep historical ties. Currently, it was ruled by Dmitar Zvonimir, once a Hungarian frontier lord. He'd broken free of Budapest's shadow by sheltering under Byzantine wings, but Hungary wasn't idle. Spotting our civil war chaos, they moved troops to subjugate Croatia by force. Dmitar, a diplomatic maestro, professed vassalage to stall them and preserve his kingdom. But such tightrope acts have limits. Hungary, hitting its threshold, was baring its teeth at Croatia again.
"We're in no shape for military intervention, though."
"True. But we can't just watch Hungary annex and gain sea access."
"Agreed. The Adriatic's a vital silk route."
Straddling the Italian and Balkan peninsulas, the Adriatic was perfect for safe silk hauls from southern Italy. Letting a rival like Hungary muscle in was intolerable.
"That's why we need the Holy Roman alliance."
"To pressure Hungary diplomatically."
"Spot on."
Zoi smiled, opting for statecraft over swords to rein in Hungary.