Episode 121
Heinrich the Lion, a name known across Europe, was the Duke of Saxony and Bavaria in the Holy Roman Empire. Though overshadowed by the Emperor, his influence was vast, rivaling that of any king. He was a patron of the arts, embodying the dignity of a ruler in all but title.
His son, Otto, carried the burden of restoring their family’s honor. Despite growing up safely in the court of Aquitaine, thanks to his uncle Richard, Otto was restless. He longed to return to the Holy Roman Empire and clear his father’s name, but he lacked the power. Returning could mean losing his head, given the formidable presence of Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, whom no one dared oppose.
Even Richard advised Otto to let go of revenge and live comfortably in his kingdom. Meanwhile, Frederick launched a grand campaign to reclaim the Holy Land, a venture so bold that even Otto, who wished for the Emperor’s failure, couldn’t hope for an Islamic victory.
Everyone believed the Holy Land would be reclaimed, and Frederick’s name would be immortalized in Christian history. But then, the unthinkable happened. The Emperor, having advanced near Jerusalem, drowned in a river barely waist-deep. It was a bizarre accident, followed by rumors that he was punished by God for his greed. Coincidentally, the Pope died around the same time, fueling speculation of divine retribution.
The prophet Marshall, who had supposedly foretold these events, gained immense fame. Otto longed to meet him, but the timing never seemed right—until war broke out, presenting the opportunity.
Meeting Marshall in person, Otto sensed the prophet’s unique aura. Even the proud King Philip II of France was uncharacteristically silent in his presence, and Richard, Otto’s lion-hearted uncle, seemed to defer to him.
“Perhaps aligning with Marshall is the wisest course,” Otto mused. He began to understand why Emperor Heinrich VI kept assigning him significant roles. If he could win the prophet’s favor, the Emperor wouldn’t dare touch him.
Otto knew he was powerless compared to the Emperor, who was consolidating a centralized empire. Returning home without a plan could be fatal. He needed to bide his time, and Marshall was the key.
The night before rejoining the main forces, Otto seized his chance. With Richard’s help, he was led to Marshall’s tent after dinner. Fortunately, the prophet didn’t seem averse to a private meeting.
Determined to win Marshall’s favor, Otto entered the tent, disregarding his ducal status, and bowed deeply. “Please, help me, Prophet!”
His voice, filled with genuine desperation, caught Marshall’s attention, just as Otto had hoped. He waited, head bowed, for the prophet to speak.
Now, let’s address the situation with the Holy Roman Empire, the nation I’m most concerned about. Richard trusts me implicitly, and I’ve managed to keep Philip II in check. The Byzantine Empire is directly tied to my interests, and the Iberian states are focused on the Reconquista, so they need my support.
But the Holy Roman Empire is tricky. Heinrich VI is currently cooperating with the Church to redeem his father’s disgraceful death. He’s leading the Crusade, thanks to my prior warnings. However, I must consider the post-war scenario.
What if Heinrich VI lives long enough to build a centralized empire? The Empire’s current territory includes not only its past lands but also northern and southern Italy, excluding the Papal States. A successful Crusade would open trade with Byzantium and Egypt, potentially turning the Mediterranean into their domain.
Could I still control Heinrich VI then? It’s uncertain, even with various strategies. That’s when I noticed Otto of Brunswick, a potential counterbalance. Despite his ducal title, he was on a dangerous reconnaissance mission, indicating his precarious position.
The Emperor couldn’t ignore the son of Heinrich the Lion, no matter how insignificant his power seemed. Otto’s eagerness to speak with me was evident, but I feigned ignorance, waiting for him to become more desperate.
As expected, the day before rejoining the main forces, Richard discreetly approached me on Otto’s behalf.
“Marshall, you remember Otto, my nephew? He’s in a bind. I offered him land to stay by my side, but…”
“I see. It did seem odd for a duke to be on the front lines. Knowing he’s your nephew, I can’t ignore his plight. How can I help?”
Richard’s face lit up. “Would you? I can’t intervene directly without causing international issues.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t ignore your kin. I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you! No one understands me like you do, Marshall!”
By helping Otto, I could also bolster Richard’s standing, a win-win situation. When Otto finally met me, he was predictably deferential, eager to please.
Feigning surprise, I asked, “Richard mentioned your troubles. How can I assist you, Duke?”
“Can you promise to keep what I say confidential?”
“Of course, I swear by God.”
“Thank you. As you might suspect, the Emperor plans to bury me. Isn’t this against God’s will?”
Otto was trying to leverage the idea that divine punishment awaited those who pursued personal ambition over the Crusade’s holy purpose. It was a clever angle, but I had no real power to enforce such a threat. My goal was to maintain this bluff until the war ended, keeping the nobles in line.
“I assure you, if the Emperor harbors impious intentions, judgment will come. But we’re in the midst of a war. Unless it’s a matter affecting the war’s outcome, I can’t predict when or if such judgment will occur. Perhaps the Emperor has no such intentions.”
“That can’t be… I understand, Prophet. But my life may be at stake. If I do nothing, I might…”
“We can’t just sit back and do nothing, can we?”
“I understand the Duke’s situation, but speaking directly to His Majesty could be even more dangerous.”
Unless Heinrich VI is a fool, what would he think if I told him not to oppress Otto too much?
He’d likely suspect that Otto ran to the prophet to tattle in an attempt to reduce his influence.
“Then what should we do…?”
“Please, give me a moment. Let me pray.”
In truth, I already had a plan in mind, but devising a scheme on the spot would clash with the image I’ve cultivated.
However, if I claim that I’ve received wisdom through prayer, the story changes.
Who would dare question wisdom said to be granted directly by Christ?
“Now, Your Grace, pray with me! Lord~!”
Overwhelmed by my fervent call to the heavens, Otto awkwardly knelt and joined in.
“Lord, Lord!!!”
“That’s too quiet. Louder!”
“Lo-o-o-rd!”
While this might be standard in Korea, it seems it’s not yet a common practice in this era.
Otto, bewildered by the fiery style of K-church prayer, spent the entire evening echoing my cries to the Lord.
I continued until I judged that he was in a state where he’d believe anything I said, even if I claimed I could turn beans into bricks.