Negotiations (1)
I'd once traveled to the Papal States in my original world. St. Peter's Basilica, the magnificent buildings. The Papal States had felt like a massive museum overflowing with artworks. But the Papal States now were something else entirely.
"Compared to the modern Papal States, this place looks downright shabby."
A single basilica, half in ruins. If my memory of history held true, that was the Lateran Basilica of St. John— the cathedral of the Bishop of Rome, the highest-ranking major basilica. Despite its grandiose title, its exterior was a rundown shell of a building. And rightly so: the looting by the Saracens, the earthquake under Hadrian I. It had been damaged and rebuilt time and again.
"And then Heinrich III changed popes six times..."
Even as the place where the pope himself celebrated Mass, with owners changing so rapidly, it couldn't be helped. As these thoughts crossed my mind, a man in purple clerical robes appeared before me with attendants. His garb screamed high-ranking cleric—a cardinal. Though the Church's power had waned, cardinals were essentially on par with dukes, so I greeted him with utmost courtesy.
"An honor to meet you, Your Eminence. I am Robert of the Hauteville family."
A Norman like me showing such deference first seemed to surprise him visibly, though his expression betrayed it alone. He returned the courtesy in kind.
"Thank you for coming so far. I am Stefano, cardinal aiding His Holiness."
Stefano led me to the Leonine City. Apparently, the diplomacy would take place not at the Lateran Basilica but in the Caruli Palace within the Leonine City.
"I wish to discuss the conflict with the Catholic forces."
"The feeling is mutual."
Stefano's friendly demeanor confirmed my predictions to some extent, letting me breathe easier inside. A cordial atmosphere meant real conversation was possible. So I tested the waters.
"Could you make Duke Gerard of Lorraine withdraw his forces?"
The cardinal halted, staring at me before shaking his head.
"Impossible."
Had I pushed too hard? Regret surged, but he continued.
"It's beyond my authority."
Of course. A cardinal controlling a secular power like Gerard, with real military might? Absurd.
"At least restrain him, then..."
"That's not within my purview either."
"Then what can you do?"
He smiled at my question, then stood before a door. Guards beside him saluted and opened it.
"That is for the Holy Father to decide."
The ornate audience chamber held an elderly man who could only be Nicholas II, waiting for me. I couldn't hide my inner shock. I'd come as a diplomatic envoy, but I hadn't expected the pope himself.
To reiterate, I was a Norman from the distant north, far from Rome's civilized heart. In their eyes, a pagan barbarian like the Saracens who'd sacked Rome. I'd figured on negotiating with Stefano, not the pope in person.
"I hear you wish to speak with us."
The old man's voice rang clear and robust, defying his age. Sensing he was no ordinary figure, I nodded promptly.
"Such insolence... Failing to observe protocol before the Father..."
A cleric who looked like an attendant scolded me. I regretted not at least kissing the Fisherman's Ring. But then the pope raised a hand, rebuking the man.
"When the Messiah crossed the pagans' lands, did He reproach their customs?"
"N-No, He did not."
One word from the pope, and the attendant stammered before retreating. With the air cleared, I faced him again.
"I seek a peace treaty with the Catholic forces."
"A peace treaty?"
His puzzled expression prompted me to explain.
"We seek land to settle."
"Looters, are you?"
This time, the pope didn't silence the attendant. An invader barging in claiming pacifism was laughable.
"We've only raided lands bordering pagans."
"Does anyone not know Reggio Calabria is a Catholic city?"
I shook my head at his retort.
"I didn't know those trading across the sea with pagans called themselves Catholic."
In truth, Reggio Calabria profited from intermediary trade between Islamic and Catholic powers, leveraging its geography. It wasn't alone, but doing so in southern Italy—close to papal influence—irritated the Church. Especially since Jews amassed such wealth through it. The Church didn't care if we looted them.
"And under Eastern Roman sway, there's no reason for Catholic blood to defend it."
"Hmph..."
The mood had shifted. Time to drive it home.
"I claim rights to all Eastern Roman territories, including Reggio Calabria."
The pope and Stefano's eyes gleamed. They'd likely anticipated Reggio Calabria, but not the full sweep of southern Italy—the Kingdom of Naples, the Kingdom of Sicily.
"Isn't that too greedy?"
Stefano's counter. I shook my head.
"The Catholics lose nothing."
He fell silent. It was a claim on lands they didn't hold anyway.
"Do you have the power to seize it?"
I nodded at the challenge.
"Holding our own against Duke Gerard proves it, I believe."
Gerard was a top strategist in Europe, beyond even France. Fighting him to a temporary stalemate was undeniable, even to the pope, who nodded.
The negotiations now favored me completely. Only papal approval remained. He eyed me steadily.
"Is this truly the right path?"
His voice lacked conviction. To instill faith, I softly recited my prepared line.
"Deus vult."
"Kahahaha! My little brother pulled it off!"
Humphrey roared with laughter, pounding my back with his pot-lid hands. It felt like my spine would snap, but I couldn't complain—it was celebration.
"So? That arrogant old coot really acknowledged it?"
"With the condition we convert to Catholicism... Ugh... ugh! It hurts, so please stop hitting me, brother."
Doubting it still, Humphrey stared at the parchment I'd handed him. Geoffrey sighed, scolding him.
"Even with that, it doesn't mean we have land right away."
He gestured to the sturdy fortress. As he said, the pope wouldn't object to conquests, but we hadn't taken Reggio Calabria yet. Meaning we'd resume the coastal assault before Gerard could interfere.
"Another attack, and it'll crumble fast, right?"
Geoffrey frowned at Humphrey, turning to me.
"Explain why not, Robert."
Humphrey eyed me too. To avoid another back-beating, I explained simply.
"Remember the duel last time, brother?"
"With Beyorn? Yeah. The bastard fixated on my gut."
Strength contests dated to antiquity. Among Vikings, they were "fistfights." Leaders like Humphrey usually mediated, but he loved duels and never backed down.
"How'd you win?"
"Held his gut shut with one hand and pummeled his face. Haha."
Reliving his heroics, he laughed heartily—clearly memorable.
"But what's that got to do with taking Reggio Calabria?"
"Last time, we hit Reggio Calabria with a coastal raid."
"So?"
"With Gerard gone, they'll predict our return and bolster coastal defenses, won't they?"
Humphrey's eyes widened in realization.
"Now you get it."
"H-Haha... Actually, I... I knew that too, brother."
Geoffrey shook his head at Humphrey's sheepishness.
"I've told you a hundred times: see the big picture."
"Winning battles solves everything."
Geoffrey clicked his tongue. As a frontline charger, not a strategist, Humphrey's tactical vision was narrow.
"Anyway, with coastal defenses up, raids are tough. And inland too."
As Geoffrey said, post-retreat, Reggio Calabria's guards were tighter. Without proper siege gear, storming walled fortresses was impossible.
"No clever plan, though. We gotta try pounding it."
Geoffrey pondered. Our Viking band was for plunder, not settlement. No loot meant desertions over spoils. So, attack it was.
"What do you think, Robert?"
I pondered too. Siege engines or more troops could work. Absurdly, an attacker creating a gap for us to sneak in...
...Wait.
"I've got a great idea to take Reggio Calabria."
"Really?"
"Spill it!"
Geoffrey and Humphrey looked ready to devour me if I didn't.
"A coastal raid."
Disappointment flickered at "plunder."
"You just explained why their defenses are up."
I shook my head at Humphrey's jab.
"Not attacking Reggio Calabria."
"What?"
"We'll hit the city across the sea."
Using the enemy to crush another enemy.