Diplomacy (4)
A thud! The harsh sound of a fist slamming down on the desk made the attendants jump, their eyes snapping toward the source.
"What the hell have you done to let losses like this happen!"
A voice thick with fury. Its owner was Duke Gerard of Lorraine.
The reason for his rage was simple: revenues from silk had plummeted.
"I... I'm sorry, Your Grace. It's just that..."
"Give me a proper answer! Or I might just kill you on the spot."
"It's... it's the Vikings, sir."
"Vikings?"
"Y-yes. Silk produced in southern Italy is flooding the market, making our Lorraine silk lose its edge."
"Explain in detail."
"Well..."
Silk from the Duchy of Lorraine was labor-intensive and thus exorbitantly priced. With limited supply on the market, Duke Gerard had effectively monopolized production, so his asking price set the standard.
Then came new rivals out of nowhere: Humphrey and Geoffrey. No one knew where they'd learned the craft, but using slave labor for intensive production, they churned out massive quantities of silk.
Quality was slightly inferior to Lorraine's. But the sheer volume drove prices down. Barely lower quality, yet at half the cost. Naturally, Lorraine silk's competitiveness eroded day by day.
The losses snowballed. Silk sales had funded the cavalry, but with revenues gone, maintaining the mounted troops grew impossible.
"The knights have started voicing their discontent."
Morale plummeted, grievances piled up.
"Ungrateful bastards. After all I've done for them."
Gerard grumbled his complaints. And rightly so—he'd treated his knights almost like full-fledged ones.
Yet here they were, forgetting his favors and complaining. Gerard felt more betrayed by his knights than by Humphrey or Geoffrey, who had caused this mess.
"P-please calm down, Your Grace. You know better than anyone that their presence lets you wield great influence in the anti-emperor faction, right?"
"Urgh..."
Duke Gerard groaned.
Many nobles opposed young Emperor Heinrich IV's rule. Gerard held sway in their circle—not just from noble blood, but from commanding the mightiest cavalry among the princes, giving his voice more weight.
This had even landed him command of papal forces. But rumors of his knights slipping from control could unravel it all.
"We must placate the knights for now."
"Got any bright ideas?"
"How about dividing some woodland among them?"
All land, rivers, and forests in the duchy belonged to Gerard. In feudalism, that was standard—the lord owned everything. Even barren woods were his.
The advisor suggested parceling them out to the knights. Gerard scowled.
"I've treated them like knights, but giving them land makes them actual knights, doesn't it?"
Not all knights held fiefs. The key distinction from wandering knights was land ownership. Those with territory were seen as proper knights.
Handing out even scraps would elevate them socially.
"It doesn't matter if they're seen as knights. Wouldn't that make them even more loyal to you?"
"I did treat them that way from the start... Hmm..."
Knights were far from noble stock. Born for battle, refinement and etiquette were luxuries they couldn't afford. Their world was weapons and enemies.
"Do you fear they'll be harder to control?"
"Exactly."
"Then why not bind them with discipline?"
"Discipline?"
Duke Gerard tilted his head. The advisor laid out his plan for cavalry control.
"Instill that honorable conduct is knightly. Protecting the weak, shielding women—romantic ideals like that."
"Will that work?"
Gerard looked skeptical. Fictional nonsense taming violent knights? Especially "protecting the weak"—practical fighters who prized victory over honor? Hard to imagine.
"It might not help immediately. But no reason not to try."
Gerard raised an eyebrow, as if to say, What do you mean?
"It costs nothing to foster honor and discipline."
The knights' unrest stemmed from material losses. Gerard couldn't fulfill those now—silk woes made cash rewards or more land tough.
Honor and rules? Intangible. Praising noble acts cost zilch. It was the only play he had.
"No cost. I like it."
With Gerard's approval, a code of honor and discipline for knights took shape. Loyalty to lord, protect the weak, brook no injustice—ideals anyone would call noble.
They aligned with Christian virtues, so clergy backed them fervently. Commoners followed suit.
To the people, knights were armed thugs running rampant. Even if insincere, they'd have to act the part—welcome relief.
Thus was born the honor code for knights and cavalry. Posterity would call it chivalry.
The chivalric ideal that shaped medieval literature. Unwittingly birthing it for cost-cutting, Gerard never dreamed how it'd one day strangle him.
The bustling port of Reggio Calabria. Already a hub for relay trade, it boomed further under Norman lords Humphrey and Geoffrey.
The silk industry was the obvious driver. Silk experts and silkworms from brother and Emperor Rogerius of the East Romans brought unprecedented prosperity.
"Goods here! Take a look before you go!"
"Silk for sale! Silk!"
"Just looking's free! Eastern precious metal jewelry!"
The merchants hawked without a trace of worry or fear.
"Looks peaceful, brother."
Geoffrey and Humphrey on patrol. Humphrey shared his thoughts, eyeing the vendors.
"I think so too. Merchants trading in peace. The reason they're so secure? Their old nemesis, Messina, is gone."
With Rogerius's aid, Humphrey had crushed Sicily's powerhouse, Messina. More precisely, he'd kidnapped Muslims, enslaving them for silk labor.
Silk was intensely labor-heavy. Managing mulberry leaves for silkworms, reeling cocoons by hand in hot water—all manual.
Needing hordes of workers, the brothers repeatedly sent troops to snatch Sicilian Muslims.
Muslim power on the island naturally crumbled. Christians, especially Norman followers of Geoffrey and Humphrey, settled in, making Sicily effectively Reggio Calabria territory.
"Securing Sicily from Muslims stabilized security. Merchants can focus on trade without fear."
Humphrey nodded at Geoffrey's words.
"Plus, most southern Italian cities fall under our sway now."
The brothers had extended influence across the southern peninsula: Naples, Bari, Palermo—virtually everything south of papal lands under their rule.
Lords in their sphere never challenged the invading Normans' authority.
Why the compliance? Two mighty backers.
One: Pope Alexander II, who ascended after Nicholas II's death. He upheld his predecessor's alliance, strengthening Hauteville ties.
Key move: recognizing Hauteville rule over southern Italy.
Papal claims there were mostly nominal, but valid over Apulia, Calabria, Sicily. He granted these titles to Geoffrey and Humphrey.
With papal sanction, local rulers bowed to their authority.
The other pillar: Rogerius. Brother to the pair, emperor of mighty East Rome. Fresh from civil war, he'd executed Ioannikios, wielding unchecked power.
A battle-hardened iron ruler of a vast empire. Southern Italian lords feared him inevitably.
With him backing Geoffrey and Humphrey? None dared defy.