The papal bull of excommunication spread through Italy, then the Empire and France, with breathtaking speed.
Over the past few decades excommunications had been issued from time to time, but neither their frequency nor their force was what it had once been.
The last time, King Władysław III of Poland had been excommunicated for attacking the Teutonic Order against the Pope's wishes, stunning almost everyone.
That king was quickly betrayed by the Sejm in Kraków and died on the battlefield.
This time the object of excommunication was even more exalted and powerful than the Polish king: the formidable Louis XI of France.
Ever since the papal excommunication of King Philip had provoked the nearly century-long Avignon Captivity, the papacy had effectively lost the ability to restrain the French crown.
Stories of French troops storming Rome and arresting the Pope were still told everywhere.
During the Council of Basel decades earlier, Charles VII and Albrecht II had tacitly backed the schismatic assembly; each issued his own pragmatic sanction—Bourges for France, Mainz for the Empire—curbing papal power in their realms.
Though the Council was forcibly dissolved, the two pragmatic sanctions survived and became the legal basis by which France and Austria controlled their national churches.
Pope Eugene IV had managed to salvage some papal authority in the Empire by negotiating with Albrecht II, but he could do nothing against Charles VII, who pushed Gallicanism to the hilt.
The quarrel between the French crown and the Church smouldered on until, bolstered by the Emperor, Paul II at last found courage to confront the French king, detonating the conflict outright.
Of the five French cardinals in the Roman College, only two were kept at the Pope's side; the rest were expelled and raced to Paris bearing the bull of excommunication.
If Louis XI failed to make amends before the Pope died, those French cardinals might be barred from the next conclave.
For the sake of their own influence—and to ease tensions between France and the papacy—they quickly presented themselves to Louis, who had already received word.
'How dare he! How dare that Venetian puppet do this!' The normally soft-spoken Louis roared, his voice echoing through the empty hall.
'That is the problem, Your Majesty: the Emperor entered Rome with his army not long ago.'
The highest-ranking of the cardinals sent back to France, Alain de Coëtivy, formerly Bishop of Avignon and the king's most trusted, sighed as he explained the root of the matter.
'Did none of you try to talk sense into that brainless Venetian? Does he fear nothing?'
Excommunicated, Louis XI dropped even the pretence of respect for the Pope.
'We did all we could to dissuade him, but your restoration of the Pragmatic Sanction enraged him; he refuses to withdraw the bull.
Moreover, the Emperor claims that Mehmed II acknowledged an alliance with you. We have seen no proof, nor have we been allowed to visit the imprisoned Mehmed, so we cannot verify the allegation.'
Alain lifted his aged, furrowed face hesitantly, searching the king's expression; Louis answered only with a cold snort.
Duke René of Anjou, standing nearby, frowned and intervened: 'Your Majesty, you may scorn such rumours, but at home men will use them to assail your government, blacken your name, perhaps stir unrest.
Charles is stalled before Beauvais, but that town cannot hold much longer. We must act at once to steady the realm; if Paris erupts while the Burgundian army advances, all is lost.'
After the death of his son the Duke of Anjou had abandoned ambition and meant to live out his days in quiet retirement.
Louis XI's entreaties made him hesitate.
Not from love of power—he saw all too clearly the king's covetous gaze fixed upon Anjou estates.
To protect his grandson, young Duke Nicholas I of Lorraine, and the Anjou inheritance, René had to remain at court: advising Louis while manoeuvring to keep his family alive.
Besides, his daughter and her children were at the French court and needed his help.
Queen Marie did not trust the Earl of Warwick and therefore refrained from hurrying her son back across the Channel to England.
A shrewd politician, she saw the situation plainly.
Warwick had been Yorkist; Marie, champion of Lancaster, collaborated with him only from necessity.
As she expected, after defeating Edward IV Warwick found the surviving Lancastrians too strong to tame. He fetched the half-mad Henry VI—Marie's worthless husband—from the Tower, hoping to rule through him.
Duke George, tricked into betraying his brother Edward IV, discovered he was now despised by Yorkists yet never accepted by Lancastrians, and lost nearly all power overnight.
The episode burnished Warwick's famous nickname: 'Kingmaker'.
Marie knew that if she returned to London she would be imprisoned and reduced to a puppet; safer to bide her time in the French court.
For daughter and grandson alike René had to devise some way to help Louis through the crisis—his own fate was now too entangled with his nephew's to escape.
'Strike first… as Philip IV once did?'
Louis would gladly emulate his predecessor's feat of seizing Rome and man-handling the Pope, but the Emperor now guarded the city.
By sea, the French navy could not beat the Genoese fleet; by land they could not even reach Northern Italy, let alone Rome.
Yet if that other scheme succeeded, the road into Northern Italy might open again… the king mused.
But holding only Savoy beyond the Alps would still leave Milan blocking the way; he soon dismissed the fancy.
'Your Majesty, we need not march on Rome; there is another way to deny the Pope's authority.'
René didn't say it outright, but Louis XI understood him at once.
Alain, who had been keeping silent nearby, was now wide-eyed with shock, his gaze darting between the sovereign and his minister.
As the former Bishop of Avignon, Alain knew exactly what René was hinting at: an antipope.
The logic was simple: excommunicated by the Pope? Don't panic—just set up another Pope, declare the one in Rome a heretic, and whip your people into a frenzy so they'll stand shoulder-to-shoulder with their king against the corrupted Curia.
Then simply march against the heresy-infested papal court.
In the end it always boiled down to a full-scale war between the two rival obediences.
If that were the case… Alain glanced at the French cardinals beside him; the look they traded said they were all intrigued.
Since the Roman Curia had become the Emperor's puppet, they French prelates would never rise any higher; but if a new Curia could be built in France, these senior cardinals might finally climb another rung.
"Your Majesty, summon the Estates-General of France and a national council—repudiate the bull of excommunication before the people and the Gallican Church, and we still have a chance!"
Alain stepped forward, fervently urging the hesitant Louis XI.
"Charles's madman is camped a hundred miles north of Paris with twenty thousand men—this is hardly the moment for a grand assembly…"
"You've always called those rich burghers your friends; now that France is in peril, it's their turn to pay the bill."
René despised Louis XI's vulgar money-grubbing, yet he had to admit the king could somehow squeeze enough coin to raise armies and keep the realm running.
With those so-called friends of Louis XI on board, the situation need not be hopeless.
The nobility, however, would be harder: in the past decade Louis XI had driven almost every lord into opposition and scarcely seemed to care.
René gave a slight shake of the head, keeping his fears to himself lest he sap the king's new-found courage.
"Very well—if we do set up a new Pope, who would suit?"
Louis XI's gaze swept over the cardinals who had already disappointed him; one by one he struck them from the list.
That he refrained from having these silk-clad nonentities tortured was, in his view, the height of mercy.
After a moment's thought René answered: "What about the Archbishop of Lyon, Charles de Bourbon?"
"The Duke of Bourbon's own brother? Good—perhaps that will keep that habitual trimmer loyal."
Louis XI nodded; the choice felt sound.
Yet the thought that the Duke of Bourbon, on whom he pinned such hopes, was still stalled before Dijon by a few thousand Imperial troops rankled.
The schemes in Savoy would have to be accelerated; otherwise the duke might sit besieging Dijon with the main French Army till doomsday.
Mind made up, Louis XI summoned the Estates-General at top speed and began preparations for the new Pope's coronation.
Meanwhile, just north of Paris, Charles—who had been besieging Beauvais for over a month—was losing patience.
Inside his tent he had just berated his generals for their latest failed assault and was now pouring out his woes to Edward IV.
The Duke of Armagnac burst in, unable to hide his excitement.
"Your Majesty, the Emperor has sent a courier from Rome—see what he brings!"
"Jean, I last saw you this thrilled when I captured Louis XI. What happy news now?"
"Much the same sort—see for yourself."
The Duke of Armagnac wondered how Charles dared mention the day he had seized Louis XI; had Charles acted then, they would be carving up France in Paris instead of sweating outside its walls.
"This… a bull of excommunication against Louis XI?"
Charles and Edward IV stared at the parchment, stunned, then burst into jubilant laughter.
Only moments earlier Charles had been fuming over fresh repulses; now tears of mirth stood in his eyes.
"Excellent! No wonder Laszlo raced to Rome—my trusty ally had this in mind all along!"
Charles's heartfelt praise made Edward IV, standing beside him, flush with embarrassment, though he held his tongue.
"His Imperial Majesty believes this bull offers the perfect chance to rebuild the League of Public Weal and asks you to seize it.
I shall assist, for I too am a member of the League."
Seeing Charles's eagerness, the duke revealed the Emperor's plan—music to his ears: while Louis XI reeled under the stigma of excommunication, rally the French nobles in renewed revolt, far better than Charles fighting alone.
"Understood. I'll dispatch envoys throughout France to stir the local lords into rising against Louis XI."
"Concentrate on your old allies—the wavering Duchy of Brittany, that spineless Duke of Berry. I know the south; leave that to me."
"You'll go yourself?"
Charles was surprised; why would the Duke of Armagnac, cosseted by the Emperor and living in comfort, risk his neck for this scheme?
"Indeed. I came to take my leave. After the Emperor's many favors I can repay him only by doing my utmost to destroy Louis XI's power.
While I'm away my lieutenants will serve you—await my good tidings."
With that, the Duke of Armagnac set out for the south.
Years of espionage had given him a workable spy-ring in France and Burgundy, and his own skill at disguise was such that discovery did not worry him.
His only fear was how much effect the plot might have: the Emperor had promised that if he could ignite rebellion in France, Austria would supply money—and even men.
Raising a rebel host would not be hard; the duke had already chosen his first target.
South of the Loire River, in the Occitanie region, a special guest arrived in the small southern town of Padirac, a thousand miles away from Paris.
The carriage slowly passed the vineyard outside the castle. Even separated by a dirt wall twice the height of a man, the passenger inside could seemingly still smell the tart fragrance of the grapes.
Adjacent to the vineyard was a tavern, or rather, an inn. Under a shed in the open space outside the inn, several wine tables were crowded with people. Judging by their appearance, they were likely mercenaries hired by the master of the nearby castle.
They were drinking leisurely, laughing and cursing, living in a drunken stupor, looking quite happy.
Hearing the soft tones of the Occitan language mixed into the idle chatter of these people caused the traveler's heart, originally as hard as metal and stone, to soften a bit.
Under the watchful eyes of these mercenaries, the carriage moved slowly forward and soon reached the castle gate, where it was stopped by the guards.
Inside the castle, most of the guards were gathered on the training ground. They were not many, only about two hundred, but they were all veterans who had followed their lord in battle for many years.
Their commander, Jacques de Armagnac, Count of Padirac, was currently sparring with his best warrior to vent the pent-up anger in his heart.
On the training ground, two fully armed "iron cans" were passionately hacking at each other with swords and shields. The crisp sound of metal clashing and the dull thud of blades striking hide-covered shields echoed through the dueling area.
The guards, long since accustomed to this, could only silently pray for their captain in their hearts, hoping that this time he would not be beaten too miserably by the Count.
Just then, a guard who had hurried over bit the bullet and interrupted the duel.
"Lord Count, there is an unidentified visitor outside the castle requesting an audience. He asked me to give this to you, saying that after you see it, you will agree to meet with him."
Jacques lifted his visor, glaring somewhat irritably at the guard who had interrupted his venting, and took an object wrapped in white cloth from him.
Lifting a corner of the white cloth, he saw another piece of cloth inside—a piece of exquisite red velvet.
This made his heart skip a beat. He immediately unfolded the red cloth, only then seeing that it was a flag composed of four alternating red and white squares. In the center of each square was a golden or red lion—this was the coat of arms of his clan, the House of Armagnac.
Realizing what it was, Jacques immediately crumpled the flag into a ball. His sharp gaze swept over the guards present; everyone lowered their heads, indicating they had seen nothing.
"Bring that man to the hall. I will see him personally."
Jacques turned to instruct the guard captain he had just been sparring with to urge the soldiers to intensify their training, then went inside to disarm and prepare to receive his guest.
A short while later, a guest covered from head to toe in a black robe, looking as if he could not bear the bleak autumn wind, was brought before Jacques.
Not until Jacques had dismissed all the servants, leaving only one personal guard for his safety, did the guest finally reveal his true face.
"Jean... I didn't expect you to really come back."
Seeing that familiar face, Jacques's eyes widened, but he soon accepted the fact. Standing before him was the cousin he had betrayed years ago, Jean de Armagnac—the last Duke of Armagnac.
To be honest, Jacques used to be very jealous of Jean because Jean's father was the leader of the House of Armagnac, while his own father had only inherited the Count of Padirac, the poorest among the many secondary territories of the Armagnac family.
This territory was located at the foot of the Pyrenees, the southernmost point of the Armagnac family's lands—a piece of wasteland that no one cared about.
In order to advance his own branch, he had personally led troops to help Louis XI suppress the rebellion in Roussillon and had betrayed his cousin, leading to his exile.
After that, he and Louis XI partnered to divide the entire House of Armagnac's territory. At the same time, he obtained the Duchy of Nemours near Paris. That land originally belonged to a branch of the House of Bourbon, but in 1462, the last Duchess of Nemours died childless, and Louis XI transferred the territory and the title of Duke to Jacques.
In the end, he failed to hold either the ancestral lands of the Armagnac family or the territory of the Duke of Nemours against the insidious, cunning, and untrustworthy Louis XI. Now he had been driven back to the barren territory of Padirac, just as his father had been.
Around 1440, the newly adult Louis XI, instigated by the great nobles, launched the first rebellion against Charles VII.
At that time, Bernard, Count of Padirac and steward of Louis XI's Dauphiné territory—Jacques's father—was judged to be a spy sent by the French King because he tried his best to dissuade Louis XI from starting the rebellion. After being humiliated by Louis XI and the great nobles in turn, he was expelled from Dauphiné and died in depression shortly thereafter.
As a result, decades later, Jacques never expected that he would receive the same treatment as his father. Louis XI even publicly ridiculed him as a "southern hillbilly who speaks Occitan."
He himself was loathed by most of the nobility for his act of betraying his brother, and no one was willing to speak for him in court, so Jacques was soon expelled from Paris.
Now, the cousin he had once ruined appeared before him. Jacques knew he should say some words of apology, but he found himself unable to speak.
Seeing Jacques's conflicted expression, Jean likely knew what he was thinking and took the initiative to start the conversation.
"There's no need to dwell on the past anymore, Jacques. I haven't come to demand an explanation.
Although you are indeed responsible for the suffering I've endured, it was destined to happen once I chose to support Prince Charles. That's because the damned Louis XI can always come up with schemes to deal with those he wants to deal with. I think you should also have a deep understanding of this."
His cousin's gentle tone gradually calmed Jacques's emotions. Hearing Jean's evaluation of the King, he nodded repeatedly.
If it weren't for that fellow's schemes, how could he have ended up in such a miserable state?
"So, you've taken the risk to come find me this time. Are you representing the Emperor?"
"Yes, I've brought the Pope's Bull of Excommunication for Louis XI. He plays his schemes and power games with everyone, and even the Pope was not spared. The enraged Pope, with the Emperor's support, has decided to punish that damned fellow.
I don't need to tell you that this is a wonderful opportunity."
Jean pulled out the Bull of Excommunication, but Jacques did not look at it closely, as he had already received the news earlier. That was why he had recently begun to assemble the soldiers who had followed him to fight the Catalans in the past.
"Will the Emperor provide help? I mean, not just verbal help."
"Of course. Although the Emperor's army only recently finished a long expedition and cannot temporarily mobilize troops to punish the French King directly, he is willing to provide money and even armaments to those who seek to uphold justice or wash away their grievances, in order to support their cause against the French King."
Jacques made his choice almost without hesitation.
"I'm in! Tell me, what do I need to do?"
"Assist me in contacting the local forces in the Armagnac territory. I want to expel the royal officials and organize an army to stir up a war against Louis XI south of the Loire River.
In addition, the Count of Foix and the Lord of Albret also need to be contacted. If we can win their support, things will be much easier."
"Achieving these goals won't be simple, but the current situation is in our favor."
"Then make preparations as quickly as possible. I need your strength to reclaim the lands our family lost."
Jacques nodded vigorously, suddenly walked in front of Jean, and bowed to him.
"Sorry."
After holding it in for a long time, the ashamed Jacques only managed to blurt out that one word.
Jean patted his cousin's shoulder, neither laughing nor crying, but he did not say any words of forgiveness. Once Louis XI was toppled, he would come to settle this account with Jacques.
As for now, he had to unite all the forces in southern France that opposed Louis XI to help the Emperor crush Louis XI's rule.
The two Armagnac brothers, temporarily reconciled, immediately went into action. Soon, they were the first to raise the banner of rebellion in the Armagnac region, where people were dissatisfied with the royal officials' crude governance.
Seeing someone take the lead, many nobles dissatisfied with Louis XI's policies flocked to join them. Some towns that had suffered greatly from the Ordonnance companies also announced their support for this uprising against the tyrant's rule.
For a time, southern France, with its weak defensive forces, was in total chaos, with the flames of war rising everywhere.
At almost the same time the southern rebellion began, representatives from several provinces near Paris also came before the King. After a hastily convened Estates-General, Louis XI declared all decrees of Pope Paul II invalid and, in a subsequent religious council, set up the Archbishop of Lyon as an Antipope.
This move temporarily stabilized the situation around Paris, but it created a massive split in the whole of French society.
This split began first within the Gallican Church. Bishops in remote areas of France did not attend the hastily convened religious council and were skeptical of the new Pope promoted by the French King—even if Louis XI had not done so, they were unlikely to continue obeying a king who had been excommunicated.
The Bishop of Beauvais, besieged by the Burgundy army, once intended to open the gates and surrender after receiving the Bull of Excommunication against Louis XI from Charles's envoy.
However, Charles, under pressure from his soldiers, did not agree to the Bishop's condition of prohibiting Burgundy soldiers from entering the city to loot.
To save their property and lives, the garrison and citizens were forced to continue their defense.
Riots of varying sizes soon began to break out across France, but most people were not surprised by the appearance of an Antipope.
In fact, counting from the time the last Antipope died, only twenty years had passed until now.
Although Emperor Sigismund had forcefully ended the Great Schism of the Catholic Church at the Council of Constance, splits in the church due to ideological differences continued to occur from time to time.
After the death of the last Antipope, Amadeus VIII, Duke of Savoy, the Council of Basel was dissolved, and people once thought the church would not continue to split.
They could neither foresee the new religions that might be born in the future nor expect that another Antipope would jump out now.
The vast majority of Catholic believers would not recognize this new Pope, whom the French King had forced forward to maintain his own authority, but this rival court did attract some supporters within France.
After all, since the end of the Great Schism, high-ranking positions in the Curia had again been monopolized by Italians. In recent years, the Empire's influence over the Curia had deepened, and the voice of French clergy had almost disappeared. Therefore, some people began to have unrealistic expectations for this obviously illegal court.
With the support of Louis XI and the Duke of Anjou, the Archbishop of Lyon arrived in Avignon from Lyon shortly thereafter to be crowned, taking the regnal name Benedict.
In reality, there were only twelve Benedicts on the Roman side, but because the last two Antipopes in France at the beginning of this century were Benedict XIII and Benedict XIV, the name Benedict XV was used.
Envoys from the rival court set out from Avignon for Rome, prepared to demand that Paul II immediately revoke the excommunication of Louis XI and abdicate.
The governments of France, Scotland, and England announced their support for this Antipope in the following months. Benedict XV also quickly formed a College of Cardinals composed of French and English clergy, with several French cardinals at its core.
Although James III chose to support the French Antipope out of consideration for the "Auld Alliance" with the French, he himself had to face the growing power of domestic nobles and endless rebellions, and was thus unable to provide any support to France beyond verbal help.
If it weren't for the fact that his father, though young, liked to stand next to cannons during sieges, eventually leading to being killed by a bursting cannon, Scotland would not have experienced a ten-year vacuum in royal power, and he would not have to worry about the uncontrollably expanded noble power now.
James III, who had just reached adulthood and begun his personal rule, ceased contact with France after sending clergy to participate in the Avignon court at Louis XI's invitation, focusing instead on clearing out the domestic rebel noble forces.
As for England, the Earl of Warwick, who had already gained preliminary control of the situation, not only promised to support the Antipope but also agreed to organize troops as soon as possible to land in Calais and raid Flanders, forcing Charles to divert troops to provide reinforcement and thus relieving the pressure on Paris.
Thus, under Louis XI's vigorous efforts, the entire Christian world was quickly divided into two distinct camps: on one side was the newly established Anglo-French alliance, and on the other was the Imperial union composed of Burgundy and Austria. The European monarchs who were not overly involved in the Franco-Burgundian war continued to wait and see.
While the decree excommunicating Louis XI continued to spread and Louis XI was hard-pressed to respond, Laszlo had already held long discussions with the Pope on issues such as the autonomy of the Balkan Church, church development, and reform, and they had reached some consensuses.
During this period, he even took the time to meet with Ferdinando, King of Naples, to chat about the tense situation on the Iberian Peninsula.
Ferdinando proposed the concept of an Austria-Naples-Portugal alliance, with the three parties joining hands to oppose the Kingdom of Aragon. Laszlo was quite interested in this.
He promised Ferdinando that he would contact Alfonso V of Portugal later to facilitate this alliance.
When the news of the Antipope reached Rome in the winter, Laszlo had already set out on his return journey with his touring party.