Good riddance

As the meeting with the cardinals sent by the Pope came to a conclusion, both groups realized that Conradin would rather die than return to Swabia without giving his all. The group was well aware that the meeting with the cardinals was intended to intimidate and threaten them, but it had instead served to increase their desire and drive to complete their objective. The church had plainly demonstrated its opposition and enmity toward them, and they were well aware that they would face additional hurdles and obstacles as they continued on their quest.

''The pope will not be delighted by this meeting '' one of the cardinals said. ''This will not end well for you, your Highness, just as it did not end well for your grandfather or your uncle, because it appears that losing against us runs in your family.''

The Cardinal's last remark left a foul taste in his mouth since he despised it when others made fun of his family legacy, most likely as a result of feeling the weight of the responsibility to keep his dying house alive.He was used to the church and the pope seeking to portray him as a wicked character and church enemy, but he was not about to be intimidated or terrorized into obedience, by such simple means.

He was ready and willing to face any hurdles the church threw at him, and he would continue down his chosen road despite all the obstacles. His heritage and home would be saved as a result of his efforts, and no ecclesiastical threat could deter him from this.

''That is enough, go back to the pope, tell him what we said word for word, and also inform him that I will not commit the same error as my grandfather and that no power, earthly or divine, will stop me , you tell him that he can ex-comunicate me all he wants but nothing will protect him when I will arrive to his door , for the lord will not protect that compulsive liar,'' Conradin muttered this while hurling flames through his eyes from sheer rage.The Cardinals were clearly taken aback by the group's defiant response, and they looked at each other as if trying to figure out how to respond to their words. But after a moment of hesitation, they swiftly turned around and started walking away as they continued speaking to Conradin .

''That is enough, nothing will be resolved by talking with a heretic, we shall return to the holy city at once for we failed to bring you to the right path, now steel shall do the job if words failed. May the Lord have mercy on you all''

Conradin's meeting with the cardinal went as anticipated; it would be ridiculous to expect them to bring good news after all the history between the church and House Hohenstaufen. Nonetheless, this meeting left a terrible taste in his mouth and marred an otherwise pleasant day. Conradin began to miss Gerwin, his loyal butler, whom the young king had left in his castle to oversee his duchy's affairs, understanding that he would be practically useless for military affairs. In light of this, he understood that it would have been better to go off without him, but even though he had reason to, he was sad to leave Gerwin behind nonetheless.

Without anything else to do but wonder about the well-being of his butler , he then decided to go back the mansion while discussing with theothersr the next step they will be taking after the arrival of the military contingents from the otherItalian communes.

Without anything else to do but wonder about the well-being of his butler , he then decided to go back the mansion while discussing with theothersr the next step they will be taking after the arrival of the military contingents from the otherItalian communes.

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In a plain extension of green, a messenger was riding on a horse traversing the land as fast as he can, his destination unknown and his message a mystery. He rides at a breakneck pace, the breeze cutting through his hair and his clothes whipping against his skin. He holds a letter tightly in his hands, his content still unknown .It is obvious that he has an urgent message to deliver and will stop at nothing to get it to its recipient, whoever he may be.

The messenger, a stout and well-armed warrior with a stern face, was stopping at nothing and was riding at a breakneck pace on an equally stout-looking warhorse. The horse is obviously used to traveling at this breakneck speed, and the rider is holding on tightly with one hand as his horse continues to race down the road. He has been riding at this pace all day and shows no signs of slowing down or stopping any time soon.

The messenger rode his horse straight-backed, his expression intent and his gaze fixed on the path ahead of him. He rode quickly yet cautiously, and his horse was evidently well-trained and used to riding large distances under the guidance of its rider. It wasn't apparent who the messenger was or who he was riding for, but the way he rode gave the idea that it was a serious issue of state. The messenger had ridden for a long time before seeing the walls of his destination, Milan.

He began heading towards the gate after dismounting his mount. The guards evidently inquired about their names and goals within the city.

The man, on the other hand, did not respond to any of the questions and instead showed them a silver plaque. Without saying anything, the guard ordered the gate to be opened and proceeded to let the owner of the object inside .

The guards were used to letting such people go inside and not interfering with their business, and this was clearly a man with important matters to attend to. Whatever his message was, they didn't want to get in his way and were more than ready to open the gates without question or delay.

After being permitted to enter the city, the man proceeded through the streets packed with shouts and shops until he arrived at the Milan palace hall, where he would deliver his letter to his lieutenant.

The palace hall was buzzing with activity and commotion as people went about their daily routines. The envoy's lieutenant pushed his way through the crowd to the throne room, his look solemn and resolute. His task was critical, and nothing would stand in his way of fulfilling it. He entered the throne room, approached the podestà, and handed him his letter. "Your lord, I have come to deliver a message from our spy in Florence." Please accept the contents of this letter."

After that, he bowed and kneeled, waiting for his liege, Milan's podestà, Napoleone della Torre, to take and read the letter. Napoleone stood from his seat, a frown on his brow, after reading the letter.

''May I ask everyone, apart from my son , to leave the hall so that private matters can be discussed?" Everyone else in the hall grew silent, and they swiftly departed the chamber, as the podestà had requested that he and his son be alone. Once outside ,everyone resumed their previous activities, and some were noticeably intrigued as to what this important subject might possibly be about.

Napoleone della Torre was usually a very calm person, so it must have been a matter of great importance for him to have spoken in such a serious tone and ordered them all to leave so quickly. It was clear that whatever he had to discuss with his son was very important and serious indeed.

There in the room there only the podestà and his son Corrado della Torre, nicknamed "Mosca" (fly), remained.

Silence resonated in the hall, which was unbearable to Mosca, who asked his father what all of that was about.

''Our spy sent a note that the new Sicilian King had organized a rebellion in Florence, probably to gain influence and control over the Republic of Florence."Napoleone della Torre remarked this while handing the letter to Mosca, who read it with trepidation and then echoed his father's attitude.

''Tell me, kid, how would you go about it?'' Napoleon asked his son as a test, knowing that he would be the one to take his place in authority in the future.

''I would probably notify the other communes and create a league to defend our interests." Mosca stated, after some contemplation, ''Very good, Son, but what are your plans for this league?" Napoleone asked with a slight smirk

''I would definitely threaten to withdraw our assistance to Charles, as long as he does not cease doing such actions,'' Mosca added, staring his father in the eyes.

''Wrong, threatening is not acceptable; we still have to battle Conradin; it will divide us, and it is even possible that Charles will hurl us straight into the teeth of the lion." Napoleone said "What we should do is to express our worries in an implicit way to Charles; we would form the league and invite Charles in , obviously making the reason for this league understood by him implicitly , so that he will not suffer the humiliation of giving in to a threat and will be able to back off without losing face," Napoleone said as he walked in a circle around his son.

''Keep in mind, son. Politics is not just about power, alliances, and influence; it is also about presenting something in such a way that the counterpart accepts it without significantly damaging his interests. This is the secret to a successful foreign policy; remember it and memorize it''.

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Look at the Author thoughts for information about Napoleone della torre.

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