"You can’t have it both ways, kid." Eric patted the Dwarf’s shoulder.
Eric waved to a few Knights, who then set the Dwarf down.
Vagina, who was being held by Matilda, began to laugh.
The group then mounted their horses again.
"He’s fun, isn’t he, sister? And so strong," Vagina said, tilting her head up to look at Matilda again.
"Perhaps," Matilda said, covering Vagina’s eyes.
.....
Canossa City lay behind a great Roman arch. The arch seemed to guard the road it spanned—the road that led to the city gates.
Shops and houses huddled together, spilling out from behind the city walls, but they all left a respectful distance around the arch. It was as if the Emperor or General who had ordered its construction was still so revered that his arch remained untouched, even as people freely stole stones from the amphitheater on the hill to build their homes.
The bathhouse was closer to the arch than any other building, and the girls who worked there loved the ancient monument. They pulled vines from its surface and uprooted the saplings whose roots might harm its foundation.
When they had to step out from the steam, they would lean against its cool stones. And like the arch itself, the girls were famous.
Travelers from all over Provence and Languedoc knew of the bathhouse by the arch, and they knew of the women who worked there. Perhaps they were not the most beautiful flowers in Northern Italy, for those were sent to Rome. These were the gentle, flawed beauties—pretty girls who would have gone south themselves, if not for a mole or a weak chin.
Girls driven out by fathers in need of money, or those who found their marriages bitter, came here to live in the shadow of the arch. Here, they learned pleasure and taught it to others.
Most cities in Northern Italy were walled, and Canossa was no exception. While it boasted a fair number of remaining Ancient Roman ruins, there was another reason for its fortifications.
For the sake of their own legitimacy, every Holy Roman Emperor typically traveled to Rome in Italy to be crowned with the Iron Crown of Lombardy. This had been the tradition since Emperor Otto. However, the Northern Italians despised this. They hated and resisted the Germans’ encroachment on their freedom, and so the Emperor’s Iron Crown often reeked of blood.
The armies of Northern Italy were no match for the Emperor’s forces, so their greatest defense lay in their walls and castles.
As dusk approached, the guards on the city walls began to doze off.
One of the guards glanced at the sky, pushed himself up, and stretched. He was just about to go off duty when a sight beyond the walls made him jump.
"Kn-Kn-Knights?! Quick, someone get over here!" he yelled.
The Guard Captain hurried over and immediately gave the man a sharp smack on the head.
"What the hell are you yelling about? Shout again and I’ll throw you off the wall myself."
The Guard Captain looked down, and upon seeing the Double Lion Flag, he instantly breathed a sigh of relief.
"It’s the Normans, our reinforcements. They’ve arrived as promised. I hope they can help us get through this."
"Why did we have to ally with the Normans? They’re famous for their treachery."
"But they’ve never betrayed the Pope. Er... at least, not openly. And they’re a much better alternative than the Emperor. Hasn’t Northern Italy suffered enough bullying from the Empire?"
"I doubt the Marchioness will agree."
"She is the Marchioness of Tuscany. Tuscany comes first, her title second. We acknowledge her power and are loyal to her, but she has to marry, doesn’t she? Besides, the Holy See has given its permission. She cannot defy tradition, let alone Saint Peter."
"Actually, I think she’s an excellent ruler. At least she doesn’t throw Silver Coins on the ground and make people scramble for them like dogs, the way other Nobility do."
"That’s not enough. We live in the most troubled part of all Europe. Though we are blessed by God and rich, we cannot protect ourselves. Maybe we should all admit it: our army is no match for the Germans. Every time they’re driven away, it’s by the mires and swamps of Northern Italy, not by our soldiers. And that is a shameful thing."
"But she can don armor and take the field herself. In fact, didn’t she lead us to victory in a battle just last year?"
"You clearly don’t get it at all. Your head must be full of shit. We can’t beat the Germans, you understand? The Teutons! This is what the Holy See wants, too. It’s not just the Pope who needs these Normans—Tuscany needs them."
"I just feel it’s wrong to force a woman, and she has no family left. We should be better to her. The city representatives have been getting aggressive lately, demanding things they have no right to."
"That’s another reason we need a Marquis. It’s for her own good, too. Who’s to say that the next time the Emperor comes to Italy, he’ll go to Rome to cause trouble for the Holy See, and not just abduct her and drag her off to Aachen? Listen, we all know that fellow Heinrich—Henry IV—is deeply unhappy with his own wife.
And if she doesn’t produce an heir, only God knows what will become of Tuscany after she dies. I’m no God, but I’d wager it’ll be a disaster, and we’ll all be left homeless.
"So drop your pointless sympathy. No matter what happens, she’s still a Marchioness. And you and I? We could die in some trivial war at any moment, and no one would ever remember us.
She was born noble, never having to worry about food or clothing, while you have to fight to feed yourself. All she has to do now is pay a tiny price. Marrying a man she doesn’t love? What’s that to a commoner?
Look at all the bathhouse girls in the streets, and you’ll realize how lucky she is. There’s no shortage of tragedy these days, not even in Tuscany.
"You’ve got no business worrying about her, a woman that noble." The Guard Captain patted the guard’s shoulder, his eyes fixed on the army drawing ever closer outside the walls.
The Guard Captain started down with a few guards to personally welcome the guests who had traveled so far from Normandy. If all went well, their leader would soon be his new lord.
However, as he was heading down, his gaze fell through a crenellation and caught a familiar figure. ’Is that... the Marchioness?’
————
PS: Historically, Matilda of Canossa’s title was Marchioness, not Duchess as depicted in Crusader Kings 3.
This title of Marquis is a rank within the Holy Roman Empire. The function of a Marquis in the Holy Roman Empire was the same as that of a Count, responsible for guarding the borders of the Empire. For this reason, Matilda was also honorarily known as the "Great Countess."
At this time, the Tuscan Feudal State was not under Matilda’s sole control. Her mother, the Duchess of Lorraine, was still acting as Regent, a situation that would last until 1076.