With the assistance of some advanced weapons, Kublai Khan’s army was able to conquer the entire eastern continent and consolidate power in the span of a few years. How could the masterful plan progress so well for so long only to fall apart in the span of a few weeks?
It all started when the levees broke along the Yellow River. The retention basins behind the levees designed to feed crops gradually throughout the dry season emptied in a matter of hours flooding every farm within twenty miles of the river’s winding path. The entire harvest was washed away along with millions of farmers who worked the land and most of the grain storage silos. The coup de grace came a few days later when all the water finished draining into the sea leaving nothing with which to replant.
Without agricultural production, the economy ground to a disastrous halt. There was no food or water to maintain the men and cavalry so Kublai Khan’s armies melted away until only the most loyal remained, leaving his once firm grip on power tenuous at best.
Rebellious ideas instantly took hold of the peasant population and the soldiers that had deserted joined their ranks. Emboldened by their numbers and the desperation of their situation, the peasant army now converged on the royal palace to oust the man they all felt angered the gods to bring these hardships upon them.
Cora could tell immediately that Kublai Khan was seething, and the fact that he did not even bother kneeling before the altar proved it. “I am besieged and need your help. The peasants have broken through the outer walls, overrun the remnants of my cavalry and now ready siege equipment to topple these walls.”
“Report,” Cora demanded of her soldiers, completely bypassing the insignificant individual barking complaints her direction.
“The situation has grown desperate. If you intend to leave, we need to go soon or not at all.”
“L...leave?” Kublai Khan stammered. “What do you mean leave? You instructed me to build this palace for your protection...”
“No,” Cora interrupted, “I instructed you to build a fortress. You were the one who turned it into this eccentric monstrosity that has drawn the hatred and ire of the common man who suffers crippling poverty in the shadow of your opulence.”
“What do we do now?” Kublai Khan asked while the four Alpha warriors lifted the cover off the stone altar and removed Cora’s shimmering relic. The emperor immediately dropped to his knees and bowed at the reminder that he was addressing his god.
If Cora had eyes she would have rolled them at the pathetic display. To a small degree, she actually respected the man while he tried to stand his ground, but now with his face buried in the dirt he just looked impotent.
“You will take what forces you have left and retreat toward Lake Poyang to the southwest. The freshwater lake there was unaffected by the flooding and you can once again feed your men and horses,” Cora instructed. How this whelp managed to lead anyone was beyond her comprehension she thought as her four guards placed her relic inside a wooden carrying case and headed for a hidden tunnel that would take them beyond the palace outer walls.
“If I were you I’d hurry,” Cora snapped which sent the little man scampering down the hillside leaving her alone with her men.
“Have the others remain with him to facilitate his escape. He may be an incompetent weakling, but we still need his armies to keep the Novi occupied and distracted from our real objective. Then you four can take me to Xi’an to help Kuanti with his work.” Considering the Kublai Khan business handled, Cora mentally opened up to the other relics on the planet.
“Getting a little harsh in your old age?” Goron mocked. “The soft cuddly Cora I knew back on the ship would have bent over backwards to nurture that weakling along.”
The intensity of rage Cora took from that insult could have incinerated her carrying case. “When did I ever show that kind of weakness?”
“Your continued devotion to Kuanti back on the ship and in the afterlife is all the evidence I need to know you have a soft spot for weak things. Isn’t that right, Kuanti? Kuanti?”
Cora felt Kuanti’s existence, but her former mate was completely closed off from her and Goron. Even the intense insult could not bring his attention away from his current project.
**********
Hastelloy observed a soft rustling of foliage near the tunnel exit that coincided with a faint vibration from the tiny handheld device he carried. Hastelloy looked at the three inch square display and observed four of the ten tracking barbs he placed on the concealing vines were on the move, presumably clinging to the clothing or fur of the four Alphas.
It took Hastelloy and Gallono weeks of meticulous searching to finally discover the back door exit from the royal palace that they both knew existed. Dealing with Goron and his minions over the millennia taught him that there was always an emergency escape route when a relic was involved.
The covert tunnel was hidden among the vine covered walls of a nearby cemetery crypt. Though well disguised, the raised landscape and direct line to the royal palace gave it away.
“Wow, would you look at them go,” Gallono marveled upon seeing the land speed of the tracking device exceed forty miles per hour. “We never could have kept up with that, even on horseback.
“You can outrun me, but not a tracking transmitter’s radio signal,” Hastelloy said quietly. “Now let’s help Zhu and his rebels finish this siege; then we can move on to follow them now that we know where they are headed.”
Chapter 41: 95 Theses
Tomal approached the church doors with hammer in hand and a need for revolution in his heart. In the beginning, convincing people they could purchase god’s favor served a greater purpose. It had the good intention of financing a project that brought about an end to the plague claiming millions of lives across the continent. Now it seemed the road to hell was paved by those good intentions.
The church now gave its de facto blessing to amoral behavior, particularly in the case of Tonwen selling forgiveness of actions prior to them being carried out. It was evil and had all the markings of a tool the Alpha would use to manipulate parishioners.
Pausing at the base of the cathedral steps, Tomal gave his actions one last thought. Once he openly betrayed Tonwen and his sale of indulgences, there was no turning back. He would once again be working against the interest of his crewmate.
A moment later Tomal steeled his nerve and ascended the steps. He knew in his heart he was right, this evil had Goron’s paw prints all over it. He lifted two hand written sheets of paper to eye level against the door and then drove an iron nail through the top of them both. He stepped back and admired the two sheets hanging from the church door for all to read.
The first sheet was entitled The Ninety-Five Theses on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences, and what followed were ninety-five numbered arguments supporting the assertion that since forgiveness was God’s alone to grant, those who claimed that indulgences absolved buyers from all punishment and granted them salvation were in error. At the bottom of page two he boldly signed the document with the name of his current identity so all would know this was not the work of a commoner, but an academic study by a Catholic monk named Martin Luther.
The ninety-five points were admittedly overkill to pose the simple inflammatory question: Why does the Pope, whose wealth today is almost without end, build the basilica of Saint Peter with the money of poor believers rather than with his own money? It was necessary, however.
Eventually the position would be heavily scrutinized by biblical scholars. These learned men, some with pure intentions while others carrying loaded political agendas, would cross reference every word and syllable against the Bible. In order to hold up against these examinations the position needed to be air tight and covered from all angles; thus the ninety-five points.
Not at all satisfied with his little act of rebellion which would only garner attention from the local parish, Tomal headed to a local book publisher with a second copy of his theses with a much wider audience in mind.
**********
Tonwen sat atop a horse-drawn carriage as it passed through the gates of the local monastery in Weinsburg, Germany. A month earlier he received permission from the local bishop to sell indulgences to his parishioners, and it was now time to settle accounts.
His arrival was greeted by the finely robed bishop himself along with six monks dressed in their typical brown hooded coverture. The moment his cart stopped, the monks silently went to work unloading the two wooden chests resting in the cargo hold.
As Tonwen climbed off the cart he was greeted by the bishop. “Good day to you, Friar Tetzel. I hope my fine flock of dedicated believers greeted you with the same warm hospitality they show me.”
“Most did your grace; however, some seem to have their thoughts corrupted by the writings of that Martin Luther fellow,” Tonwen reported. “A few reacted most violently to my arrival while others simply refused to listen to my words or contribute to their salvation.”
The bishop took Tonwen under his arm and guided him into his office. “I take it those chests are not nearly as full as usual when you finish your work in a particular area.”
A dejected expression followed by a subtle nod from Tonwen let the bishop know his assumption was correct.
The bishop sat Tonwen down in front of his desk and then walked over to a bookshelf along the near wall. “When I received my first book produced by that marvelous new invention, the printing press, I praised God. At last the written word could be mass produced and purchased for a modest price.”
The bishop raised his hand and slowly circled it around the room to point out the endless array of shelves packed full of leather bound books in his office. He then retrieved a particularly thin book and tossed it onto the desk and took his seat on the other side. “Now I curse its existence for it allows the vile teachings of Martin Luther to spread quicker than the plague. Two weeks is all it took for the whole of Germany to hear his filth thanks to the endless reproduction of his words. Three months later all of Europe speaks of nothing but that man’s ninety-five theses.”
Tonwen picked up the book and started thumbing through it with an angry stare that threatened to set the pages ablaze. “My sales grow less and less with every passing week as the teachings of that heretic persist.”
“How much was the final tally?” the bishop apprehensively asked.
Tonwen took out a piece of parchment from under his robe and laid it across the table facing the bishop. “One hundred and twenty gold pieces, your grace. Half was put into the first wooden chest for your order to keep. The rest I placed in the second chest for you to transport back to Rome so that the Papacy may have its share to further the construction of St. Peters Basilica.”
“And the cost for transporting that chest of gold back to Rome will come out of...”
“Your portion,” Tonwen jumped in to finish the bishop’s sentence.
The bishop shrunk back into his chair and gazed out the window with a troubled stare. “Naturally.” He drew a frustrated breath and shook his head. “Much as it pains me to admit it, Martin Luther does raise one good question. What on earth could the Pope possibly need with all that money?”
“Those sixty pieces of gold, less the cost of sending a man to Rome and back of course, will not even fund our outreach to the community,” the bishop went on. “Food to the poor, traveling priests, and schools...”
“Books for your library,” Tonwen added, which brought the tirade to a quick end. “Much good is done with the proceeds, but let us not pretend it is all noble.”
The bishop absorbed Tonwen’s rebuke with a simple nod. “Perhaps, but this library still benefits everyone in this monastery. The Pope does build a great basilica from which all Catholics may draw inspiration. Tell me, what greater calling does Archbishop Leonhard von Keutschach of Salzburg serve by adding defensive walls to his castle?”
“Who is he?” Tonwen asked. “I find it odd that I am unfamiliar with a man so elevated in the church.”
“He’s new,” the bishop snapped, obviously annoyed with having to report to the man. “Rumor has it he is still struggling to pay off the debts he incurred while buying his elevated position from his holiness.”
The bishop suddenly leaned forward in his chair to fold his arms across the desk. “Not to worry, you will likely get to know him very well. Of all the church voices to lash out against the statements made by Martin Luther, the Archbishop’s has been the loudest. He, more than anyone else, needs the proceeds from selling indulgences to continue in order to retire his debts and fund his useless construction project.”
Then the bishop’s interwoven hands allowed the index fingers to escape and point directly at Tonwen. “You, my good sir, are the most prolific seller of indulgences in the whole of Europe. When the archbishop finally mounts his biblical challenge against this Martin Luther under charges of heresy, you can be certain he will be relying on your insight and testimony.”
“And he shall have it,” Tonwen exclaimed. “I believe wholeheartedly in my work. I am saving souls and benefitting the church and society at large while tending to the faithful. If this archbishop truly is intent on fighting Martin Luther and the evil he spreads, then I shall make his parish my next destination.”
“You do that,” the bishop said on the way to his feet. “In the meantime, you can rest assured that the Vatican will receive its share of your services to my parishioners.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Tonwen replied on his way to the door. Just before leaving the bishop’s office he looked back and added, “After all, I have already sent the accounting results on to the Vatican. They will be expecting it within a fortnight.”
That last statement caused the bright smile to run away from the bishop’s face carrying with it any notion of short changing the Pope.
Tonwen hated to leave the bishop in such a depressed state. Before turning to exit the chamber, he reached under his brown robes and produced a thick roll of pages and handed them to the bishop. “One man did not have any coin to contribute to absolve his sins, so he turned over these pages. I gave them a quick look; they appear to contain a design for an unusual weapon. I hear the Duke of Helfenstein here in the city is always looking for new and improved weapons for his men. You may be able to sell the designs to him and raise some extra funds for your community outreach. That was not included in my account to the Vatican.”
The bishop unfurled the cluster of pages and Tonwen saw a broad smile once again grace the man’s lips. He clearly liked the potential.
Chapter 42: Heresy
Tonwen led A team of two horses pulling his wagon under the city gates of Salzburg and instantly understood the significance of the place. This city was the point where Italian and German cultures met, and that fusion of clashing cultures visually played out across the city skyline.
Against the backdrop of snow-capped mountains, sharp gothic spires rose toward the heavens from churches built right next to distinctly Italian domes capping other churches and government buildings throughout the city. Resting tall and proud on an overlooking cliff face sat the fortress of Hohensalzburg, home to Archbishop Leonhard von Keutschach.
The bright midday sun hit the white stones of the castle’s walls and inner keep with dazzling effect. The monstrous fortress seemed to almost glow pure white while casting a darkened shadow over the city below.
While traveling a narrow road that zigzagged its way up the cliffs to reach Archbishop Leonhard’s fortress Tonwen took notice of three things. First and foremost was that the castle would never be taken by force from an attacking army. The steep ascent, five layers of walls, and endless array of archer slits rendered the fortress nearly impregnable.
His second observation was the castle’s use of a rail system down the steepest portion of the cliff face to bring up supplies. It used a system of pulleys and counterweights rather than some version of a modern locomotive of course, but to his knowledge this was the first such rail line in existence and was a concept
way ahead of its time. It allowed the fortress to remain in constant supply without even having to open its gates.
The third, and most comical feature of the fortress Tonwen noticed, was a small outcropping along the tall outer wall of the castle keep. At first he did not know what it was. It just looked like a solid stone wall that had a box measuring two feet wide and deep by five feet tall added to it.
As he drew closer to the odd structure, Tonwen noticed a circular hole on the bottom of it that gave him a clue as to its use. How fitting, Tonwen thought, that the Archbishop could turn his back on the city of commoners below and defecate on them without needing to even leave the comfort of his fortress.
Tonwen passed through a gatehouse that was still under construction and was shocked to see the Archbishop himself just inside the gates. The man pulled his attention away from inspecting the building progress the moment he heard the guard announce the arrival of Johann Tetzel.
“Friar Tetzel, it is an absolute pleasure to welcome your now legendary services into my flock,” the Archbishop said with open arms as Tonwen climbed off the cart. He apprehensively moved forward to accept the unexpected embrace when the Archbishop let one arm fall away leaving a hand holding the ring of his office extended. Tonwen resisted the urge to laugh at the transparent power play and instead meekly knelt before the Archbishop and kissed his ring. “The pleasure is all mine your grace.”
Archbishop Leonhard basked in his position of power for a moment and then prompted his lesser to rise once again. “Your valuable services could not have come at a better time.”
“It seems to me that I come at a time of great peril for the church,” Tonwen said with confusion. “Everywhere I go more and more of our faithful seem to turn towards the demonic teachings of Martin Luther. In some towns I, a loyal man of the cloth who faithfully ministers only for the eternal salvation of others, have come under attack.”
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