In Milan, people had just held a grand celebration for Christmas; after all, it was the first Christmas the Emperor had spent here.
Regardless of what people used to say about the Emperor and the Imperial Army—whether calling them invaders or oppressors—the current Milan was indeed a scene of peace and prosperity. No one wanted to experience that precarious and miserable life ever again.
Inside Visconti Castle, a banquet had just ended, leaving the hall in a mess. Servants bustled back and forth around the dining tables, nimbly cleaning up the aftermath.
Laszlo leaned weakly back in the Duke's seat, smelling faintly of alcohol, his mind a chaotic jumble.
Usually, he didn't much care for crowded occasions, but the desolation following this lively scene was somewhat hard for him to endure.
Joanna, who normally would have stayed obediently by his side at such a time, had also returned to her room early to rest.
Not long ago, when the touring procession was about to arrive in Milan, Joanna suddenly felt unwell. After a diagnosis by the court physician, it appeared she was pregnant.
Even though his wife was very young and healthy, Laszlo still couldn't be completely at ease. He arranged for some of the most experienced maids to care for the Empress to prevent any accidents.
Those Portuguese maids who had served Leonor should be able to make Joanna happy; after all, meeting compatriots in a foreign land undoubtedly lifts one's spirits.
With the woman who usually loved to hover around him gone, Laszlo felt a bit of a void, so he began to force himself to think about things other than women.
For instance, the Pope. That old stubborn Paul II had actually exceeded his expectations this time.
Usually, the old fellow followed his every word. This time, he very submissively handed over the right to nominate the Archbishop of Constantinople, but when it came to the issue of church reform, he refused to budge no matter what.
It wasn't that Paul II didn't care about the corruption within the church; in fact, he himself had almost become the source of the Holy See's corruption.
He amassed wealth through various means: raising taxes, confiscating property, opening mines, and selling indulgences. He did whatever brought in money the fastest, to the point that the church atmosphere, which had slightly improved during the time of Pius II, returned to its previous foul state, leaving the Roman populace living in misery once again.
And yet, his money-making wasn't just for himself.
The members of the College of Cardinals received annual pensions of several thousand florins, which was almost equivalent to the annual income of a count's territory. This made them Paul II's most steadfast supporters, joining him in opposing the church's transformation.
Besides satisfying his own little hobbies, such as building the Palazzo Venezia and collecting antiques, Paul II had also invested some money into the cause of the Crusaders.
In Paul II's eyes, these reforms that hindered his wealth accumulation were entirely aimed at weakening the Pope's authority, so he naturally would not agree.
However, considering the Holy See had just provoked the French King and was in dire need of the Emperor's protection, Paul II eventually relented, agreeing to convene another Grand Duke Conference later to discuss reform matters.
Only, given Paul II's current frail physical condition, Laszlo highly doubted he could last until the appointed time.
For this reason, Laszlo had specifically held several secret talks with Cardinal Francesco, who had already been promoted to the Dean of the College of Cardinals.
Francesco came from a humble background and had risen to the upper echelons of the church through his own talent and learning. He was respected by almost everyone and maintained a very friendly relationship with Laszlo.
However, perhaps the poverty of his childhood family had influenced Francesco's entire life. After becoming a Cardinal, he constantly used his position to accumulate wealth, promote the younger members of his family, and even devised strategies for Paul II to assist in amassing riches.
In Laszlo's view, this was another figure who was 'scared of being poor.' He was somewhat different from Paul II; while Paul II spent most of his money on his own hobbies, Francesco's greatest wish was to achieve a social leap for his family.
His father was just a small fisherman from the province of Liguria in Genoa, so his greatest motivation for running for Pope was to allow his family to become genuine nobility.
Undeniably, he was very greedy, but that also meant he was easy to manipulate.
Laszlo actually wanted to support an Austrian clergyman for the position. With the French Cardinals currently all expelled, this plan actually had a chance of success.
However, since Pius II, the Italians had always been very resentful of a Pope of Imperial nationality. For this reason, Laszlo had to prepare a backup plan in advance.
The Holy See had temporarily served its greatest purpose by helping him thoroughly disgust Louis XI. The rest would depend on how Louis XI responded, and then he would finally step in to clean up the mess.
Until then, he would let his good brother Charles hold the line under the pressure.
There was another matter worth paying attention to, which was contacting Portugal to deal with the Kingdom of Aragon.
In truth, the Kingdom of Aragon had almost no conflict of interest with his Austria, especially after France and Aragon fell out due to various factors; he had even thought about uniting with Aragon to deal with France.
After all, Juan II now deeply regretted ceding Roussillon to Louis XI and was constantly plotting to take that land back.
However, although the rebellion within Aragon had mostly subsided with the death of the Duke of Lorraine and the withdrawal of the Duke of Anjou, the remaining rebel remnants were still enough to give Juan II a hard time.
Originally, Aragon could have been a good ally, but unfortunately, Laszlo's two staunch allies, Portugal and Naples, had both made enemies of Aragon.
Ferdinand I was no longer satisfied with the title of King of Naples; he now called himself the King of the Two Sicilies, even though his kingdom did not control the island of Sicily.
After a new round of purges against the Anjou nobles in his country, Ferdinand I was now almost unable to restrain his ambition. What he thought about day and night was taking back Sicily from his cheap uncle, Juan II.
Portugal on the other side was even more obvious. Princess Isabella, who should have married King Alfonso V of Portugal with the crown of Castile, chose to elope with the Prince of Aragon.
Their consanguineous marriage had still not received a papal dispensation and was therefore considered illegal. Worse still, the two were about to have a child.
Having experienced the humiliation of losing his intended bride, Laszlo's father-in-law, Alfonso V, could now only settle for the next best thing: an engagement to his young niece, Princess Joanna, with the crown of Castile also as her dowry.
Thus, the Castilian nobles who supported Princess Isabella's succession and those who supported Princess Joanna's succession split into two factions, arguing incessantly every day in the court of the incompetent King Enrique IV.
These people were just short of picking red and white roses in front of the palace to reenact a war of succession currently playing out in England.
Once war broke out, Castile would become the battlefield for Portugal and the Kingdom of Aragon. The winning side would get the crown of Castile and hegemony over Iberia, while the losing side's future would certainly not be easy.
The smell of gunpowder between the two forces was already very strong, but there was one last factor limiting the outbreak of civil war: King Enrique IV, who was useless to the country but very important at this moment.
Once he died, a great war would immediately sweep across the entire Iberian Peninsula.
Since Ferdinand and Alfonso had a common enemy, and both had Laszlo as a common ally, seeking an alliance was the most natural thing in the world.
In the end, Laszlo didn't have much interest in Iberia, and the current priority was dealing with France. Therefore, he didn't plan to get overly involved, merely having Joanna write a personal letter to her father, informing her old father Alfonso of the good news of her pregnancy, and incidentally asking about the situation on the peninsula.
As long as the conflict didn't break out immediately, leaving him enough time to deal with France first, it wouldn't be difficult to clean up Aragon afterward.
Matters in Italy were mostly handled; one remaining goal was to transform the Duchy of Milan into a direct province of Austria.
For a long time, the Governor-General's Office of Milan only handed over one-tenth of the taxes they collected according to the law to the central government in Vienna. The remaining funds were distributed by the Governor and the local council themselves.
The biggest advantage of doing this was saving the vast majority of administrative costs, but at the same time, the benefits that prosperous Milan brought to Austria could not be fully realized.
This trip to Italy, with prosperous and wealthy Milan, had left a deep impression on Laszlo, and also made him realize that his efficiency in shearing wool seemed a bit low.
He couldn't swallow a giant like Hungary, but this tiny Milan shouldn't be enough to choke him.
Considering that Milan was still in a state of combat readiness and it wasn't suitable to complete the reorganization immediately, Laszlo decided to delay this for a while, also giving his two sons more time to adapt to all this.
Furthermore, directly controlling the Duchy of Milan would require a large number of grassroots officials. After returning, Laszlo would have to bring Archbishop Georg along to organize several examinations.
He hoped those university students and noble sons wouldn't disappoint him too much.
Laszlo was lost in thought, and without realizing it, the wine in his cup had been finished.
Just as he was about to get up and return to his room to rest, an attendant led the anxious Governor of Milan, Marquis William, quickly to his side.
"Your Majesty, there are two important pieces of news."
The solemn-looking William handed over a top-secret letter.
Laszlo glanced at the window high on the wall, seeing only a bright crescent moon hanging outside.
For William to make a special trip this late gave Laszlo an ominous premonition.
He waved away the surrounding servants and signaled William to continue.
"About two weeks ago, uprisings broke out in Geneva and Chambéry on the same day. Luigi de Savoy has already announced the restoration of the Duchy of Savoy in Chambéry."
"Hmm, what about the situation with Piccinino the Younger?"
"According to your instructions, the two most important mountain passes have been controlled. Next, we can send troops from Italy into the Transalpine Savoy region at any time."
"Good."
Laszlo breathed a long sigh of relief. As long as the key roads to the north of the mountains were controlled, everything would be fine.
At the beginning of the Habsburg Family's rise, the ancestors of the family never thought they would abandon the Swiss Mittelland and instead take root in Austria on the eastern frontier.
At that time, the Habsburg Family's greatest goal was to control all the important trade routes in the Alps, achieving a monopoly on the north-south trade routes to build their fortune.
Unluckily, the Savoy family, which was also on the rise at the time, held similar ambitions.
The two sides fought fiercely in the war of succession for the estate of the heirless Count of Kyburg. Ultimately, the Habsburg Family, led by the martially formidable Rudolf I, gained the upper hand, defeating Savoy and leaping to become the hegemon of the Mittelland,
the ruler of the Swiss mountaineers. Subsequently, Rudolf was elected as the first Emperor of the Habsburg Family, ending the Interregnum that had lasted for over twenty years.
The stories that followed were not so friendly to the Habsburg Family... but now the disgrace brought by the Swiss had been personally washed away by Laszlo, and the Savoy family had also been conveniently wiped out by him.
"The resurgent Savoy family won't amount to much. Have Piccinino get ready; he might need to lead his army to the north of the mountains later."
"Your Majesty, why don't we take this opportunity to directly reclaim the lands north of the mountains? If we let the rebels gain a foothold, it will be difficult to crush them later."
William was somewhat puzzled.
"The French have besieged Dijon. Neither the Imperial Army nor the Burgundy army can reach Savoy directly. Only the Milanese army can be deployed into the war.
If we let Piccinino and his mercenaries fight alone north of the mountains, and the French split their forces to aid the rebels, what do you think our chances of winning are?"
Laszlo asked in return.
William immediately grasped the Emperor's meaning.
"So, as long as the siege of Dijon is lifted, this rebel army will quickly collapse under a pincer attack from the north and south."
"That's the logic. The key to the problem is always the French."
Laszlo wasn't so foolish as to throw his armies into the war one by one. If he was really going to move against France, he would definitely go all out.
Only, right now several of Austria's legions had not yet fully recovered from the attrition caused by the Eastern Crusade, and he didn't want to act directly for the time being.
Furthermore, consecutive years of war were no small challenge to the national treasury. He was now gritting his teeth to keep his agreement with the Austrian people, resolutely refusing to levy extra taxes.
Once the ten-year agreement expired, he could try to use the people's trust in him to fix the regular tax, making it a responsibility that Austrians must shoulder for the state; special taxes would have to be calculated separately.
As for being short of money, he actually wasn't that short. He had vassal states to bleed and banks to borrow from; he just didn't plan to use those means unless absolutely necessary.
Take Spain, for example. When they first started fighting France, the annual interest on their debt was only 300,000 florins. In the end, the annual interest became millions of florins, with no possibility of filling the hole. They directly went bankrupt four times in a row, dragging down the once-prosperous Fugger commercial empire.
Laszlo was now trying his best to reduce the proportion of military spending in the total fiscal expenditure, using more tax revenue for public construction and industrial investment to strengthen the country's power.
If possible, it was always better to keep the army stationed, which could save two-thirds of military spending—a good thing for both the state and the people.
However, developments don't always change according to human will...
"Your Majesty, the other important news is... the French have established a rival papacy in Avignon. The Archbishop of Lyon was crowned as the antipope a few days ago with the approval of Louis XI and the French religious council."
"Heh, that damned Louis XI. He really thinks he's not dying fast enough."
Laszlo's face was gloomier than ever before. He had originally thought about continuing to play the game of proxy war with Louis XI.
After all, at this time, France had the Burgundian army pressing in from the north and the Armagnac rebels funded by Laszlo growing stronger in the south; there was no need for him to act personally.
But the appearance of an antipope changed the nature of the problem.
Now, even if it was economically hard to bear, even if he had to use all of Miss Mary's dowry as military funds, Laszlo had to take action.
Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, the year 1471 has arrived.
Laszlo and his court still remained in Milan, seemingly intending to settle in this old capital of the Western Roman Empire for a long time to experience the power of the King of Italy.
However, in reality, Laszlo only briefly looked into most Italian affairs, leaving the bulk of the work to William, the Governor of Milan, and his two new students.
Since Christopher and Maximilian had been away from their tutor for a long time, Laszlo was forced to take on the responsibility of disciplining them personally.
Although Laszlo hadn't thought this would be a difficult task in the past, believing that strict discipline would surely produce qualified talent, reality taught him a hard lesson.
During a discussion about governing philosophies, the usually obedient and steady Christopher talked back to his father for the first time.
The boy believed that Laszlo spent too much time on war and that his governance of the country was too crude; this was likely influenced by the administrative concepts instilled by Archbishop Georg.
The habitually rebellious Maximilian, on the other hand, unexpectedly stood on Laszlo's side.
He didn't like Laszlo much in other respects, but as a monarch on horseback, Laszlo earned Maximilian's respect and even admiration.
Of course, as soon as Leonor was mentioned, the relationship between the two would immediately drop to freezing point.
To escape his immediate troubles, Laszlo once again chose avoidance—he stayed temporarily in Milan, leaving his two sons to William's discipline while also letting them experience more deeply how to be a qualified local governor.
During the day, Laszlo was busy handling letters from all directions—from Electors, officials of vassal states, and allies—actively communicating with them to analyze the current complex situation.
In the evening, he would sit by the fire for a while, lost in thought, waiting for William to send the two boys back to chat about their insights, before returning to accompany his pregnant wife.
Such a life couldn't be called too urgent, but in reality, the situation in all of Europe had reached its most critical moment. Everyone concerned with the situation was watching his every move, and even France and Burgundy, who were attacking each other, had become secondary players.
It couldn't be helped; with the title of 'Defender of the Faith' hanging there, could he really ignore the emergence of an Antipope?
Laszlo remained calm; he knew he still needed some time to prepare to minimize the possibility of accidents.
Besides instructing Vienna to complete war preparations as soon as possible—pouring all the money from his private treasury into the army, accelerating the recruitment and training of new soldiers to fill the ranks, purchasing ample military equipment and supplies, and planning possible march routes—he was also actively communicating with various powers, intending to reassemble the Holy League that had only recently disbanded after defeating the Ottomans.
Last time it was against the pagan Ottoman Sultan; this time it was against the 'Eldest Son of the Church,' the King of France. It seemed very different, but in fact, all roads led to the same destination.
After all, the alliance between the Ottomans and France had recently been a hot topic of discussion; from princes and nobles down to the common people in the streets, everyone denounced the French King's desecration of the holy faith.
In contrast, Laszlo, the Emperor, was like an apostle sent by God to save the Christian world, frustrating pagan invasions time and again and purging the heresies that plagued the Empire, which was truly a boundless merit.
Because of this, people had no doubt that the Emperor would once again lead the Imperial army to destroy the heretical rival papacy and give a harsh lesson to that excommunicated King Louis XI.
However, while everyone said so, the Holy See had already lost its patience first.
Thus, shortly after the New Year, Laszlo's old acquaintance, Cardinal Francesco, arrived in Milan in great haste.
In the reception room of Visconti Castle, Laszlo reclined on a lounge chair by the fireplace, leisurely warming himself by the fire while holding a chivalric romance novel to reminisce about his late mentor, Aeneas, and simultaneously listening to his sons recount their insights and gains from recent days.
At a time when everyone else was anxious, he instead somewhat enjoyed this leisurely life.
It was no exaggeration to say that he had spent half his life at war. He thought he could finally have some peace for a while, only for Louis XI to pull something big, giving him a massive headache now.
"During these days, you should have learned something following William. What are your thoughts on Milan's administrative system?"
Laszlo asked with his back to the two teenagers standing side by side, seemingly casual but actually full of expectation.
"The Duchy of Milan has a relatively complete fiscal and civil administration system inherited from the Visconti era. Local nobles and wealthy citizens can help the governor solve many problems."
This was Christopher; in his view, the fact that this system had operated without error until now proved its effectiveness.
"Those guys in the local council are too much of a nuisance."
Maximilian sneered at his elder brother's always-content-with-the-status-quo personality. Although he was not yet fourteen, he knew quite a bit.
Of course, his views were mostly derived from his own subjective emotions; clearly, spending a few days with William in the local council had made him somewhat disgruntled.
"If you were to lead the reform of the Milanese government to fully realize the Duchy's potential, what would you do?"
Laszlo closed the book and asked with interest.
"Um... like the other provinces, establish a provincial government subordinate to Vienna?"
Christopher's answer was as conventional as ever.
"And you, Maximilian?"
"If possible, I would reorganize the financial institutions and establish a Privy Council to strengthen the governor's power. If I could control the army..."
Laszlo fell silent. Why did it sound like this kid was planning to secede? However, the idea of weakening the local council was sound enough.
Before he could comment on the two boys' answers, an attendant brought Cardinal Francesco to interrupt the brief conversation.
Laszlo did not ask the children to leave but signaled them to sit in a corner nearby, then began the conversation with Francesco, who had just sat down beside him.
"Your Majesty, you should have received the latest intelligence from France by now, right?"
Seeing the Emperor in such a leisurely state, Francesco, who had rushed from Rome, asked with some anxiety.
"Yes, Louis XI is bolder than I imagined. Originally, there should have been a chance for a turnaround."
Laszlo's somewhat sentimental manner left Francesco momentarily speechless; he even felt the Emperor was pitying his opponent for making a near-suicidal blunder.
According to the Emperor's usual attitude toward Louis XI, shouldn't he be spewing profanities by now, showing off a collection of German and Hungarian curses?
"Well, Your Majesty, aren't you angry?"
"My anger has already been spent; now I only feel fatigue," Laszlo suddenly looked at Francesco with a sincere gaze. "Francesco, you are my close companion; you should understand, right? In fact, I am the most peace-loving person in this world."
Francesco smiled awkwardly, momentarily unsure how to face this somewhat comical "sincere revelation."
If the Emperor could be called peace-loving, then could he himself be considered honest and upright?
But now was not the time to discuss such issues with the Emperor; Francesco had not forgotten the task the Pope had given him.
"Your Majesty, I understand what you mean, but right now the momentum of the rival papacy in Avignon is growing day by day. If you do not fulfill your duty at this time, who else can judge those damned heretics and protect the authority of the Holy See?"
Seeing that the conversation had reached the main topic, Laszlo, who had been setting the stage for a long time, decided to finish the final act.
"I certainly understand these things, but you were also a witness to the Crusade and know the hardships of my two years of campaigning in the East.
Currently, Austria and the various countries under my rule have not yet recovered from the depletion of the Crusade; they still need some time to prepare before entering a new war."
The Emperor playing the victim—this wasn't the first time.
Francesco's expression stiffened; he knew the time for negotiation had come.
No wonder the Emperor had acted so despondent earlier, speaking as if it were true—he had almost been fooled; so this was what he was waiting for.
"Roughly how much time do you need to prepare for the war against the blasphemer Louis XI and the Avignon faction?"
"According to my advisors' estimates, it will take more than a year."
"That's too long!"
Francesco jumped up from his chair. Both he and Laszlo knew very well that Paul II certainly wouldn't last that long.
"If the Holy See can make some efforts to oppose France, I think this time can be shortened."
"If you have any requests, just say them; I will report them faithfully to the Holy See."
"First, I need financial or military support. After all, this war is being fought for the Holy See; the Pope wouldn't have the heart to watch me fight alone, would he?"
"A reasonable request."
Francesco nodded somewhat helplessly.
The Holy See's financial situation was already becoming strained due to Paul II's reckless spending, and now the Emperor was reaching out for money again.
If it were military support, he couldn't exactly send the Pope's personal guards to assist the Emperor in battle, could he?
Those hundred-odd mercenary guards probably wouldn't be of much use.
Regardless, what the Emperor needed was an attitude, to let people know that the Pope was fighting side-by-side with the Emperor.
"Second, the Pope needs to help me contact more allies and re-establish the Holy League against the enemies of the Church. Using the power of the League to oppose France is undoubtedly more secure."
"Just like dealing with the Ottomans?"
"Yes."
Laszlo knew he was terrifyingly strong now, but he had never heard of anyone complaining that their advantage was too great.
Again, sufficient pre-war preparation was more valuable than a flash of inspiration on the battlefield.
"Are there any other conditions?"
Laszlo turned to look at Christopher, who was sitting by the wall watching him eagerly. After a moment of internal struggle, he ultimately rejected his original plan.
Originally, his next plan was to designate his eldest son as the Imperial heir in the Imperial Diet and further implement more reforms.
If he could obtain the support of a papal decree, the resistance to designating Christopher as the Imperial heir would undoubtedly be much smaller.
However, in that case, wouldn't the few benefits brought by Charles IV's golden bull lose their meaning?
Letting the Pope interfere in the selection of the Imperial heir would mean that the Holy See would once again have the opportunity to meddle in the Empire, which was not a good thing.
In the end, Laszlo did not set this bad precedent; his goal was to expel the Pope's tentacles from the Empire, so he was unwilling to create trouble for himself.
By comparison, dealing with the Electors was more acceptable to him.
Moreover, France's self-destruction this time might be an opportunity; by the time he returned victorious, those Electors would likely have to weigh their words more carefully.
"Those are about all the conditions. I hope the Pope can provide an answer soon."
"I will take your requests back to Rome as soon as possible. If the Holy See agrees to your terms, how long will it take for you to enter the war against France?"
"At least until this winter passes. The snow is heavy this year, and the paths through the Alps are not easy to travel."
Francesco nodded with satisfaction. If it was only two or three months, Rome could afford to wait.
The papal envoy came and went in a hurry, soon leaving the palace to set off back to Rome early the next morning.
Laszlo lay back down, calculating the gains and losses of certain matters and thinking about the next step of his plan.
"Father, are you going to lead another expedition?"
Christopher's mood was a bit low.
He had heard somewhere that the monarch of a great power should always reside in the court to fulfill his duties, stabilize the people's hearts, and govern the country.
As for war, it should be left to professional generals so that the country would not fall into chaos.
This child had loved peace and quiet since he was young, and sure enough, he had grown into a homebody.
Laszlo patted his eldest son's head with some helplessness and said earnestly, "Leading the army to defeat enemies is precisely the duty of a Roman Emperor."
On the side, Maximilian rarely showed agreement with his father.
"But the Emperor doesn't personally go to the battlefield, so why do we still have to receive training in martial arts and military affairs?"
"Martial arts training can be used not only to deal with enemies on the battlefield but also to strengthen the body and increase courage. Military training allows you to know how to control the army and how to use it to achieve your goals.
From knights to princes, these trainings are necessary. After all, the era we live in is not peaceful, and you must never distance yourself from the army.
In this regard, Maximilian is indeed more outstanding, but you cannot give up either.
I don't expect you to fight like those noble knights in legends, but at the very least, you must be able to win the respect and love of the Empire's soldiers, understand?"
Seeing that his son seemed to have been led astray, Laszlo made a mental note against Archbishop Georg.
Letting the head of civil officials serve as a tutor always led to such things.
"I understand, Father."
"Don't be dejected anymore. The masters of the Missaglia family have made a set of armor for each of you. Tomorrow morning, put on your armor and wait for me at the training ground. I want to personally check the level of Talhoffer's teaching."
Laszlo spoke with a smile, but Christopher's face immediately became tense, while Maximilian, a year younger, was exceptionally excited.
To confront their common foe, Emperor and Pope joined hands once more in a diplomatic offensive.
A fresh bull, drafted by imperial Privy Council envoys who followed the court from place to place, was dispatched to every duchy and Electorate, summoning the princes to march with the Emperor against the godless King of France and the rival papal court at Avignon.
By now the princes had grown almost blasé about these periodic imperial clarions.
Whenever the Emperor wished to fight Poland, Italy, the Ottomans, or even France, he convened an Imperial Diet and elevated Austria's private quarrel into an imperial Crusade.
Yet each time he cloaked the venture in lofty rhetoric, blurring the line between the Emperor's personal war and an Imperial War, until the princes found themselves footing the bill and furnishing troops.
The princes viewed these so-called Imperial Wars with misgiving, and Laszlo himself was beginning to tire of the stratagem.
He feared that after a few more such campaigns he would become nothing more than Europe's own Duke Huan of Qi—except that he was Emperor as well as first among the princes.
The proverb "Nine times he assembled the lords, once he set the realm aright" was precisely this: universal recognition of his overlordship as Arch-Chieftain of the Alemanni confederation, and acknowledgement that Austria headed the German states.
But this fell far short of the goal he had originally set.
In his design, Austria should by now have infiltrated and brought Swabia and Bavaria under control, then extended influence into further imperial circles, thereby gaining command of imperial armies and stripping the regional princes of their military autonomy, strengthening the imperial sceptre.
Alas, the dream was plump while reality was starved.
Outside the Swabian, Rhenish, and Franconian circles, standing armies existed in name only; the real forces were the private troops of the circle's Electors and its captain.
In Swabia and the Rhineland, civic leagues cooperated with noble associations to form reasonably regular troops, while law and order in Franconia rested with a formidable knightly alliance.
Almost without noticing, Laszlo found himself travelling ever farther down the road of devolution.
His edicts carried weight only because Austria and her satellites could crush any combination of Imperial Princes, and because Laszlo's victories and reforms had won him vast prestige.
If reform halted here, the outcome would be the same as for every earlier Emperor who had sought centralisation: the man would die, his policies with him, and a few pages of chronicle would be all that remained to say that once an Emperor had tried to gather the realm.
Laszlo had no intention of accepting that fate; fortunately, he had just reached his thirtieth year and still had ample time to outmanoeuvre and outfight the Imperial Princes.
Until then, he did not mind borrowing the momentary strength of papacy and Empire to sweep away the greatest obstacle to Habsburg hegemony—the Kingdom of France.
Though snowbound in Italy and unable to return, Laszlo had only to give the order; his foreign minister, Clement, left Vienna at once and convened an Electoral meeting at Frankfurt.
Frankfurt's old Rathaus, as austere and venerable as ever, had already hosted countless Electoral diets and conclaves.
This particular gathering was, however, slightly out of the ordinary.
When the last participant—a burly newcomer—shut the council-chamber door behind him and shut out the winter chill, every head turned.
Albert III Achilles, Elector of Brandenburg, one of the two Imperial Marshals, Margrave of Ansbach and Kulmbach, imperial favourite… the titles were already legend to the assembled Electors, and his arrival meant that the six prince-Electors who had once raised the Emperor to his throne had now been entirely replaced; no relic of the old generation remained.
Yet none of his fellow Electors saw on his face the joy of inherited power.
Instead, like the brother whose nerves had broken and abdicated, the new Elector of Brandenburg wore a permanent frown that made them fear for his wits.
Albert took his seat between the Electors of Saxony and Bavaria, the three secular Electors facing the three ecclesiastical ones.
The throne that once had separated Emperor and King of Bohemia stood empty; Clement, representing the absent Emperor, stood beside it.
Where the legendary Eyczing had dazzled and bullied the imperial magnates, his former deputy Clement was visibly less at ease before the Empire's highest council.
Yet the thought that he spoke for the Emperor soon steadied him; the Electors no longer seemed so unapproachable.
Of course he did not swagger in the Emperor's name or seek needless quarrels.
The Emperor's programme still required these Electors if it were to pass.
"Now that we are all here, let us begin," said Archbishop Adolf II of Mainz from the first seat to the right of the imperial throne.
As host in Frankfurt, Adolf naturally took the chair.
Before the others arrived he had already held long talks with Clement, and agreement had been reached.
The Archbishop would not gainsay the Emperor.
His very elevation to the see of Mainz had required papal approval, and it was the Emperor and his allies who had restored him to the city.
Now that both Pope and Emperor urgently needed support against the King of France, the task of persuading the princes fell to him.
"You have all heard of the latest outrage at Avignon. King Louis XI, to escape the Pope's ban, has set up a schismatic anti-court there—an insult every faithful soul must resent.
Moreover, Louis XI plotted with the Ottoman Sultan to attack the Emperor and dismember the Empire, and they even drew up plans for the partition!
To crush this madman and defend the honour of Empire and Church, His Majesty asks your aid."
Archbishop Adolf recited Louis XI's crimes with passion, embellishing here and there to rouse his audience, though not everything was invention.
Louis XI wished to push France's frontier from the Meuse to the Rhine, and Mehmed II had demanded everything east of Austria.
Yet the scheme now sounded fantastic, and the Electors were more amused than alarmed.
Given the current situation, unless the Empire fractures into civil war, no one can break through the Emperor's shield along the frontier—let alone threaten the princes' own lands.
The Archbishop of Mainz's speech failed to move even the two youngest men present—the Elector of Saxony and the Elector of Bavaria—let alone the seasoned veterans.
Fortunately, not everyone remained unmoved.
'This is a war to protect the Empire, to uphold justice and righteousness; naturally we should stand with the Emperor.'
Archbishop John II von Baden of Trier immediately declared his support.
Without exaggeration, of the seven men in the room he was the one most eager for the Emperor to strike France at once.
After all, as Charles's closest ally and a member of the League of Public Weal, he had already handed over most of his diocese's troops to Charles for the assault on Paris.
Yet even so, Charles remained at a grave disadvantage against Louis XI; the modest town of Beauvais had held out for months under Burgundian siege, and Charles was beginning to think of retreat.
Fortunately, the Emperor's manoeuvres in Rome had sent Louis XI the grand gift of excommunication, driving the French king to risk everything by backing an antipope and muddying the waters so thoroughly that the war would probably spread like wildfire.
'Once the Emperor and his elite Imperial troops attack, everything will be fine.'
The Archbishop of Trier's lightning declaration left several of the others momentarily stunned.
Bohemia had voted aye, Mainz had voted aye, Trier had voted aye; secure just one more vote and the rest would have no grounds to block an imperial war.
The Archbishop of Cologne could never support the Emperor—his Wittelsbach-Palatinate line bore a deep grudge against the Emperor, and Charles had long coveted the archbishop's own lands, leaving the prelate with an equal loathing for Burgundy.
Laszlo's crowning of Charles without awaiting the Electoral College and his admission of Burgundy into the Empire had enraged the Archbishop of Cologne, yet the archbishop was too weak to change anything.
The princes of Westphalia wished to resist Burgundian expansion alongside him, but lacking a strong leader they could not unite, and the crushing pressure from both Emperor and Charles left them with no solution.
Choosing the lesser evil, these princes—though living farthest from the Emperor—were glad to obey his will, for only thus could they be sure of his protection.
The situation filled the Archbishop of Cologne with despair.
The secular Electors on the opposite bench were far clearer in their stance.
Although Elector Ernst of Saxony pursued a pragmatic, neutral policy, devoting himself to integrating and building up his lands, he could not escape the influence of his militarily gifted younger brother, Duke Albrecht of Saxony.
'Since this is to protect the Empire and the Church, I naturally support His Majesty's decision.
Yet only two years ago we heavily funded the Crusade to retake Constantinople; raising another army against France is a burden we can scarcely bear.'
Since inheriting the electorate, Ernst had followed a course utterly different from his father's.
Outwardly he clung to the Emperor, befriending every neighbouring prince and staying clear of their quarrels.
At home he ruled Saxony jointly with his uncle and brother, developing Wittenberg and Leipzig and tightening his grip on the land, a beloved lord to his people.
Because he loved nothing better than 'farming' his realm, he hated wasting men and money on matters beyond Saxony's borders.
Alas, his brother Albrecht was a veritable war-hound; made Imperial Marshal, he had become the Emperor's ardent follower.
Whenever the Emperor called, Albrecht answered—at Saxony's expense.
Therefore Ernst hoped the Emperor would offer some compensation.
Surely the Emperor could not keep leeching off his core princes; no one's coin grew on trees.
In days of old, a king who kept his vassals under arms more than forty days faced their wrath; the Emperor's summons seemed endless.
'His Majesty will not fail any faithful subject,' Clement said smoothly, sketching a grand promise.
Every Imperial Estate joining the war will be exempted from public taxes for two years; those who distinguish themselves will receive spoils, lands, honours or privileges.'
He smiled, not expecting the Electors to swallow the bait whole.
After all, those who sided with the Emperor did so for reasons other than reward.
The same was true for most princes: without obvious gain none would march on France—only those friendly to the Emperor would offer help.
As for the duties princes owed their sovereign—such obligations had vanished centuries ago.
'Well… that is acceptable,' Ernst said, seeking nothing more.
Even had he refused, his brother the duke would have led an army after the Emperor; better to let the duke represent the House of Wettin.
He glanced at the Elector of Brandenburg, his brother-in-law and fellow Imperial Marshal.
Albrecht 'Achilles', once the Emperor's eager spear and the Empire's most famous champion, now sat restless, unable to declare his stance.
The Elector of Bavaria, impatient to speak last, jumped in early to support his future father-in-law Laszlo, and all eyes turned to Brandenburg.
'Marshal Albrecht, what say you?' Archbishop Adolf asked politely, though the outcome no longer depended on Brandenburg.
Albrecht raised his head, looked first at the archbishop, then at Clement, and sighed.
'Forgive me; until His Majesty answers my request I cannot decide. Besides, this assembly has reached its verdict—let us convene the College of Princes and finish this.'
His reply piqued the Electors' curiosity, yet even Clement, the Emperor's envoy, knew nothing of the quarrel between Brandenburg and the Emperor, and the matter was dropped.
Thus the preliminary Electoral College meeting ended five votes to two in favour of an imperial war against France.