Si Deus Nobiscum: A Polish-Lithuanian Scion Quest
- Thread starter Rolman
- Start date
- Mature Historic
Solarstream
It's all in the cards
- Location
- Zombie World
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Bide your time.
XXIII-III. May 21-25, 1575. Stężyca, Lublin Voivodeship, Polish Crownlands.
- Location
- United States
You wait, enduring daily harassment by the Piasts. The situation becomes more and more testy: by nightfall, more fights break out and, usually at dawn, one or two duels play out between opposing lordlings and slighted bodyguards. Four men have been buried since the 12th, they say, and each assembly grows louder and more caustic.
It was a gray-lavender, cloudy dawn when the Archduke arrived. You were roused by sounding hunting horns and shouting men: he's here! The noble Archduke! The little bastard! Every man is excited, though, in his way, that's for certain.
You jog with your brothers to take in the scene. At first, all you see are the red-white banners of Austria mixing with deceptively Radziwiłł-like black eagles on gold backgrounds, stretching for over a hundred stopy – maybe even more – in column formation. When you're close enough to properly observe the procession, you first notice the halberdiers in brightly-colored, outlandish garb, looking vaguely like harlequins. They usher in the young Maciej, dressed in satin and lace and wearing a large ruff, jewels in his cap's band shining even in the low light, a peacock feather making him several inches taller. He's atop a fine black stallion with his palms up to heaven, almost plaintive or even suppliant, looking about at the gathering throngs. Praise God that he doesn't have that chin; with the ruff framing his strong jaw, he actually looks quite fetching. Behind him is a trail of similarly lavishly-dressed men: it's good that he brought his diplomats.
"Good Polish friends!" he shouts in the tongue of your people, to more than a few gasps. "Come am I to your mighty country, to show me that am no coward, no little boy!"
Six months of tutoring, maybe less – it could be worse, he's under pressure. He continues: "With the brighter sun will me– I– speak before you all as a same one and brother before God!"
You've got to cheer for that! Who cares about his little errors? A chant of go home! rises up to do battle with the cheering of your camp.
"Handsome fellow!" exclaims Krzysztof.
"Well, he's certainly trying his best with our language," says Septimus, "they say it's a hard one to learn."
Maciej is still speaking but you can't hear him anymore. His flamboyant bodyguards are beginning to have to push people back with the shafts of their engraved and be-tasseled halberds, holding them crossways across their bodies.
The Habsburg delegation wades through the crowds, rich men cheering and poor men swearing and spitting.
You keep on applauding for the Archduke. He notices you, lights up, and gives a wave. You boldly return it, turning heads in your direction. Some of the attention shifts to you, both good and bad. Ave Radzivilius! Go to Hell, Lithuanian lickspittle! You manage to smile through it all.
You were hoping to meet with Maciej before his speech, but it seems like the assembly will be starting early this morning. Tęczyński men and some of Krzysztof's bodyguards show the Archduke the way to the meeting field.
"By God, I hope this works," you hear Septimus mutter. He turns to you: "brother, this is one Hell of a horse you're betting on."
"The world belongs to the brave," you say, looking straight ahead.
The young man remains mounted, and switches to Latin, he's almost hoarse already he's yelling so loudly. The uproar continues.
"Concordia lumine maior! I chose these words as my motto but a year ago. For I have only been a man grown for two years, it is true. There is no point in skirting that fact! And for just that reason do I come before this august body today to show myself today, to show that I am no child before my elders and that I am no coward before the realm nor the Lord Our God!"
"To you all I say: da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius! I offer up my body, heart, and immortal soul to your people's–"
Like Hell you do! roar the Piasts.
You think Maciej chuckled at it. You're not sure. From what you can see, he raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth. "I will learn! I come as one wanting to learn!"
To your shock, he repeats what you yourself said just moments prior: "Do odważnych świat należy!" You cheer loudly at that alongside your fellows. The Archduke switches back to Latin: "I mean not to appear haughty – I would never infringe upon the rights and laws of your people – which is why I come here, and not before your Convocated Sejm – to say my piece!" Good, good. Show them what you know.
"And, so…" something flickers on his face. "I ask you all this: shall I stay in your lands?"
YES! NO!
He's become inaudible, and that smile is a nervous one. Maybe he was expecting a triumph, despite holding his own thus far. But who knows what's going through that racing mind of his; you recall when you spoke before the Sejm around two years ago, how hard it was to stay on track in the face of cheers and jeers, doing your utmost to give the people what they want. The Archduke is, what, seventeen, eighteen?
Someone is quite literally sitting on someone's shoulders, a normal-sized man atop an absolutely hulking fellow. Is that…
Ave Zamoyski Secretarius!
"Archduke!" he projects. "No one here doubts that you are a young man of wit and character – for that is what makes you so dangerous!"
The lordlings cheer loudly. Very loudly. You recall that this is their country, their voivodeship; this meeting is in the depths of the Crownlands, in a densely-populated tract of farmland brimming with the impoverished gentlemen liable to support the Royal Secretary. "Seneca said that freedom cannot be bought for nothing, and that lesser things must be shed to earn it – and I mean this with respect — we care not for your name, nor title, nor the fine things your family would bring!"
He continues: "here is what we stand for, lord Archduke: justice for all and a Golden Liberty! The enforcement of incompatibilitas, the equality of all men before a Sejm, the strengthening of the Sejmiki, and the expulsion of the so-called 'great ones' from rightful Crown property!"
The lordlings explode into applause. You look to the clergymen, sitting on tiered benches under an awning; they seem to betray nothing. Archbishop Uchański strokes his beard.
"Only then will we all truly be free!" exclaims Zamoyski, barely audible over his roaring camp.
Maciej looks bewildered, and you fear he may not even know what Zamoyski is talking about.
Krzysztof calls out, hands cupped around his mouth: "you people stand for nothing! Nothing but yourselves and your petty designs!"
Maciej turns to your side, who are beginning to cheer for your brother. You can confirm now the confusion on his face. He's out of his element.
You join the fray:
[] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
[] "The man before you, Archduke, desires to undo everything our late King Zygmunt August desired!"
[] "These men are no different from peasants in revolt against God's order!"
[] shout out to the clergy: "Interrex, Your Excellency, what say you as a servant of the Lord?!"
[] write-in.
It was a gray-lavender, cloudy dawn when the Archduke arrived. You were roused by sounding hunting horns and shouting men: he's here! The noble Archduke! The little bastard! Every man is excited, though, in his way, that's for certain.
You jog with your brothers to take in the scene. At first, all you see are the red-white banners of Austria mixing with deceptively Radziwiłł-like black eagles on gold backgrounds, stretching for over a hundred stopy – maybe even more – in column formation. When you're close enough to properly observe the procession, you first notice the halberdiers in brightly-colored, outlandish garb, looking vaguely like harlequins. They usher in the young Maciej, dressed in satin and lace and wearing a large ruff, jewels in his cap's band shining even in the low light, a peacock feather making him several inches taller. He's atop a fine black stallion with his palms up to heaven, almost plaintive or even suppliant, looking about at the gathering throngs. Praise God that he doesn't have that chin; with the ruff framing his strong jaw, he actually looks quite fetching. Behind him is a trail of similarly lavishly-dressed men: it's good that he brought his diplomats.
"Good Polish friends!" he shouts in the tongue of your people, to more than a few gasps. "Come am I to your mighty country, to show me that am no coward, no little boy!"
Six months of tutoring, maybe less – it could be worse, he's under pressure. He continues: "With the brighter sun will me– I– speak before you all as a same one and brother before God!"
You've got to cheer for that! Who cares about his little errors? A chant of go home! rises up to do battle with the cheering of your camp.
"Handsome fellow!" exclaims Krzysztof.
"Well, he's certainly trying his best with our language," says Septimus, "they say it's a hard one to learn."
Maciej is still speaking but you can't hear him anymore. His flamboyant bodyguards are beginning to have to push people back with the shafts of their engraved and be-tasseled halberds, holding them crossways across their bodies.
The Habsburg delegation wades through the crowds, rich men cheering and poor men swearing and spitting.
You keep on applauding for the Archduke. He notices you, lights up, and gives a wave. You boldly return it, turning heads in your direction. Some of the attention shifts to you, both good and bad. Ave Radzivilius! Go to Hell, Lithuanian lickspittle! You manage to smile through it all.
You were hoping to meet with Maciej before his speech, but it seems like the assembly will be starting early this morning. Tęczyński men and some of Krzysztof's bodyguards show the Archduke the way to the meeting field.
"By God, I hope this works," you hear Septimus mutter. He turns to you: "brother, this is one Hell of a horse you're betting on."
"The world belongs to the brave," you say, looking straight ahead.
The young man remains mounted, and switches to Latin, he's almost hoarse already he's yelling so loudly. The uproar continues.
"Concordia lumine maior! I chose these words as my motto but a year ago. For I have only been a man grown for two years, it is true. There is no point in skirting that fact! And for just that reason do I come before this august body today to show myself today, to show that I am no child before my elders and that I am no coward before the realm nor the Lord Our God!"
"To you all I say: da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius! I offer up my body, heart, and immortal soul to your people's–"
Like Hell you do! roar the Piasts.
You think Maciej chuckled at it. You're not sure. From what you can see, he raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth. "I will learn! I come as one wanting to learn!"
To your shock, he repeats what you yourself said just moments prior: "Do odważnych świat należy!" You cheer loudly at that alongside your fellows. The Archduke switches back to Latin: "I mean not to appear haughty – I would never infringe upon the rights and laws of your people – which is why I come here, and not before your Convocated Sejm – to say my piece!" Good, good. Show them what you know.
"And, so…" something flickers on his face. "I ask you all this: shall I stay in your lands?"
YES! NO!
He's become inaudible, and that smile is a nervous one. Maybe he was expecting a triumph, despite holding his own thus far. But who knows what's going through that racing mind of his; you recall when you spoke before the Sejm around two years ago, how hard it was to stay on track in the face of cheers and jeers, doing your utmost to give the people what they want. The Archduke is, what, seventeen, eighteen?
Someone is quite literally sitting on someone's shoulders, a normal-sized man atop an absolutely hulking fellow. Is that…
Ave Zamoyski Secretarius!
"Archduke!" he projects. "No one here doubts that you are a young man of wit and character – for that is what makes you so dangerous!"
The lordlings cheer loudly. Very loudly. You recall that this is their country, their voivodeship; this meeting is in the depths of the Crownlands, in a densely-populated tract of farmland brimming with the impoverished gentlemen liable to support the Royal Secretary. "Seneca said that freedom cannot be bought for nothing, and that lesser things must be shed to earn it – and I mean this with respect — we care not for your name, nor title, nor the fine things your family would bring!"
He continues: "here is what we stand for, lord Archduke: justice for all and a Golden Liberty! The enforcement of incompatibilitas, the equality of all men before a Sejm, the strengthening of the Sejmiki, and the expulsion of the so-called 'great ones' from rightful Crown property!"
The lordlings explode into applause. You look to the clergymen, sitting on tiered benches under an awning; they seem to betray nothing. Archbishop Uchański strokes his beard.
"Only then will we all truly be free!" exclaims Zamoyski, barely audible over his roaring camp.
Maciej looks bewildered, and you fear he may not even know what Zamoyski is talking about.
Krzysztof calls out, hands cupped around his mouth: "you people stand for nothing! Nothing but yourselves and your petty designs!"
Maciej turns to your side, who are beginning to cheer for your brother. You can confirm now the confusion on his face. He's out of his element.
You join the fray:
[] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
[] "The man before you, Archduke, desires to undo everything our late King Zygmunt August desired!"
[] "These men are no different from peasants in revolt against God's order!"
[] shout out to the clergy: "Interrex, Your Excellency, what say you as a servant of the Lord?!"
[] write-in.
Sertorius
Rebellious Legate
- Location
- Roma Invicta
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
My bet.
Just say what was said before in private: Zamoyski wants money and power of the magnate families to further his own ambitions. His goal is to join and rule them, not defeat the rich. He's a populist in the modern sense of the word, speaking whatever the mob likes in order to win its sympathy and support, even to the detriment of the Commonwealth.
Speaking of undoing Augustus' grand scheme is far fetched. The Crownlanders were the Union's most ardent supporters, in addition to the poor Lithuanian nobles. It's the magnates of the Grand Duchy that opposed the idea due to losing some of their political power to the poorer families.
A peasant revolt is a major no-no. To even compare poor nobles to the rabble was a grave insult and blood would surely flow.
Forcing the clergy to take a stand just puts them in an awkward position. The Interrex will probably parry with something along the lines of God knows what's best for the country and so forth.
My bet.
Just say what was said before in private: Zamoyski wants money and power of the magnate families to further his own ambitions. His goal is to join and rule them, not defeat the rich. He's a populist in the modern sense of the word, speaking whatever the mob likes in order to win its sympathy and support, even to the detriment of the Commonwealth.
Speaking of undoing Augustus' grand scheme is far fetched. The Crownlanders were the Union's most ardent supporters, in addition to the poor Lithuanian nobles. It's the magnates of the Grand Duchy that opposed the idea due to losing some of their political power to the poorer families.
A peasant revolt is a major no-no. To even compare poor nobles to the rabble was a grave insult and blood would surely flow.
Forcing the clergy to take a stand just puts them in an awkward position. The Interrex will probably parry with something along the lines of God knows what's best for the country and so forth.
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Solarstream
It's all in the cards
- Location
- Zombie World
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
bookwyrm
Doom of Public Libraries
- Location
- Wichita, Kansas
[X] shout out to the clergy: "Interrex, Your Excellency, what say you as a servant of the Lord?!"
the Hapsburgers need a breather to interrupt Zamoyski's flow and let Matthias rally, even a perfunctory response from the Archbishop would do that, without getting into a personal beef with the royal secretary just yet. Even in politicking a way to beat him and the Piasts, he'll still need to be dealt in afterwards to avoid a civil war. And honestly even getting into a bit of good old Catholicism is good for Stanislaw, as both factions are multi-confessional and poking religious conflict is a good bit of brinkmanship bring the parties together on their shared ground on tolerance to contain it.
the Hapsburgers need a breather to interrupt Zamoyski's flow and let Matthias rally, even a perfunctory response from the Archbishop would do that, without getting into a personal beef with the royal secretary just yet. Even in politicking a way to beat him and the Piasts, he'll still need to be dealt in afterwards to avoid a civil war. And honestly even getting into a bit of good old Catholicism is good for Stanislaw, as both factions are multi-confessional and poking religious conflict is a good bit of brinkmanship bring the parties together on their shared ground on tolerance to contain it.
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
Ultimately I am torn between this and speaking out to the Clergy. I think it comes down to mindset. Bringing the fight straight to Zamoyski by discrediting him is a straight forward way to present a challenge as well as earn a adversary, yet is probably the best way to go about it in my thoughts.
Ultimately I am torn between this and speaking out to the Clergy. I think it comes down to mindset. Bringing the fight straight to Zamoyski by discrediting him is a straight forward way to present a challenge as well as earn a adversary, yet is probably the best way to go about it in my thoughts.
Considering the acrimony of the past few days, this makes it an opportunity to break up this whole crowd and deny Zamoyski his platform to assail our candidate. While I agree with you that we should go to bat for our chosen candidate, I also worry about how well our attempt to embarrass this populist as a base man will come off to the crowd since our character is the very definition of wealth and privilege in this society.
On the other hand, we are a fairly skilled fighter with a reputation of a coward. Getting into a fight might actually be good for us.
Because we are on weak rhetorical ground against Zamoyski here, my first preference is to provoke a duel unless doing so will be a major embarrassment for our camp.
[X] "These men are no different from peasants in revolt against God's order!"
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
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- Location
- United States
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
- Pronouns
- He
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
I love to see out guy fighting again
I love to see out guy fighting again
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
[X] "Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!"
I haven't yet caught up to the Quest, can someone tell me why are we supporting a Habsburg?
I haven't yet caught up to the Quest, can someone tell me why are we supporting a Habsburg?
Yes, I know. It wasn't their only attempt either. The question was more about why we, the players, want him?
- Pronouns
- She/They
We're playing a third son of one of the most powerful magnates in Poland-Lithuania in the early modern period, and Dad wants a Habsburg. I don't think we've ever had a choice not to help elect one, we've just utilized our position as de facto ambassador to pick one and then pray our choices don't embarrass us.
bookwyrm
Doom of Public Libraries
- Location
- Wichita, Kansas
Matches us as a cosmopolitan tolerant Catholic, provides the arms and funds of Vienna against the Tartars and Muscovy, strengthens the hands of the Ruthenian and Lithuanian magnates against that of the overmighty Polish magnates (potentially making good that grand old cause of restoring the old borders of the Grand Duchy), and generally becomes a Radziwill cipher for the changes to the Golden Liberty and the Commonwealth necessary to save it in Stanislaw's view (the Piasts having very different ideas of what changes are necessary to save Liberty and Commonwealth)
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Ah, OK, it makes sense there was no choice. Still, a Habsburg on the throne entagles us with their wider politics. Rather than supporting us against Muscovites and Tatars, we might be supporting them against the Turks or protestants. There's also the possibility that Habsburgs try to assert themselves as monarchs and trigger a rebellion in defense of liberties. Plus, OOC we know we'll miss out on Batory, one of the better-regarded elective kings.
XXIII-IV. May 25, 1575. Stężyca, Lublin Voivodeship, Polish Crownlands.
- Location
- United States
"Lord Zamoyski speaks of lofty things, but his aims are base!" you yell in Latin.
Mind what you say next; give the lordlings a little air to breathe, and ensure that no duels arise from this. "Indeed, our twin countries and their laws are in need of constant repair and strengthening – as one would maintain a fine castle – but this man merely wishes to have the great hall to himself!"
"It's all just a ploy to rile up good gentlemen," yells Krzysztof, "seducing them with promises of wealth and power and…" he trails off, allowing himself to be drowned out.
It's a difficult position to be in. You cannot say to the lordlings' faces that they do not deserve what they're asking for. That would turn the assembly field into a mass brawl or worse, nevermind the way young Maciej would have to disavow such comments on the spot.
Ah!
"Lord Archduke, would you vanquish our countries' foes?" you ask theatrically, serving him an easy bobble to volley back. The clamor dies down near-imperceptibly.
"Most assuredly!" He lights up. The Piasts start groaning: of course he'd say that!
"No, no, my lords, but I will tell you how! I am told the Muscovite foeman utilizes two things in great number on the battlefield: the chainmailed lancer, and a kind of musketeer who fights with a short poleax. There was a Freiherr von Herberstein who spent many years in the lands of those Easterners and…"
He launches into a genuinely impressive explanation of how best to counter such a force using Western fighters, recalling examples learned from the Great Captain's Royal Thirds in Italy – and that Western muskets outrange Muscovite ones, while mixed units of pike and shot would ward off cavalry and infantry alike.
You can't help but smile: although only six or seven years apart in age, you remember your days in Paris with De Re Militari and a head full of Seigneur Strozzi's sayings. You were eager to lead men in a different way, a better way, without the terrible atrocities that Frenchman meted out on Frenchman before your eyes. What a silly lad you were. The young Archduke has clearly done his reading.
Plenty of people are still trying to shout him down, of course. But the insults are becoming less and less coherent, and Zamoyski himself has paused to listen.
"Regarding your Tatar heathens," Maciej continues, "we in Austria and Hungary understand the importance of a solid Military Frontier, a line of forts staffed with good farmer-soldiers – I'm told there already exists a corps of horsemen who live on the land they protect."
Maybe the Zaporozhians ought not be brought up; after all, they could be as great a danger to lords and princes everywhere as they are to the Tatars. The Archduke seems to have been fed a simplified version. But: "with their help," says Maciej, "will your Southern foes be brought to heel. Livonia will be reclaimed with Imperial pike and Sarmatian saber working as one!"
Hear hear! Krzysztof chuckles and talks to no one in particular. "Very good, very good; easier said than done, but…"
You can see Zamoyski fiddling with his mustache. "What of the ecclesiastical courts?" he calls out.
Maciej hesitates, earning boos. "Firstly—" he half-stammers, "firstly — your Confederation and rights will be protected always. I will sign my name to that. But we cannot forget that this is, at its core, a place of Catholics, with a crown anointed by the Holy Church's God and His representatives — not any other man's Lord! To that end will I restore the church-courts' power on all non-confessional matters!"
A cry of priest's concubine! arises, but some of the lordlings cross themselves; the once-silent bench of clergymen clap, a few rising to their feet in standing ovation. You're sure he's not the most familiar with the arcane laws of the land — hence the relative vagueness of this promise — but he likely just earned even the most Piast-leaning bishop's assent.
Zamoyski shakes his head and addresses those around him, though still clearly loud enough to be talking to everybody in truth. "A friend only to the bejeweled, clearly."
"No!" snaps Maciej. "Never will I deny the right of a local parliament — your sejmiki — to convene. I shall lead, not rule! Even Augustus looked to the Senate."
That was quite a flourish, even if bringing up an imperator may be a little sore. He's captured enough attention to go on. "Youth shall be my friend! For from youth comes not just vigor — which will be used for the good of the realm — but a willingness to learn." He switches to Polish: "your clothes I will wear, your tongue I will speak, your land I, eh, ah, adoptabo!" Your side raises a hearty cheer.
"You may find a man with greater wits than I, greater experience, but is it not easier to break a colt than a grown stallion? But a stallion will a colt become."
"Good lad!" roars Krzysztof.
"I'm glad he slipped in some humility at last," observes Septimus.
"I will leave you all to your thoughts on me soon," says Maciej, "but my final note: I offer myself up in marriage to the most noble and lovely Infanta Anna," he says, sounding strong but not necessarily excited. A little gasp runs through the crowd. "Should the good lady have me," he adds deferentially.
To cheers and (perhaps fewer) jeers does the Young Archduke withdraw, and that's when Jan Zamoyski dismounts from his man's shoulders and strides forward to where Maciej was standing but moments prior. "An impressive young man, it cannot be denied," he begins, "but will we allow unholy marriage between Empire and our Nobles' Republic, to allow a cruel husband to dominate our dear mother?"
No!
Quit your fearmongering!
The verbal brawling starts up anew. "We need a man who has ruled before, and yet shall be alone in a new country, a man who will be the husband to the Infanta, and she will rule as our home-born Queen!" A bluff, and an appeal to native sons by means of rhetoric. They would never hand power over to a woman, let alone a pious spinster. "To this end do I put forth the Transylvanian Prince, Stefan Batory! Already does his delegation move for Kraków. Unlike our young friend, this man has achieved: victory against the Turk, an outfoxing of the Empire, and the defeat of his own rivals in word and with blade!"
He's shown his hand at last. And a great choice, to boot; the man is half-legendary, the captain of a fortress-country that stems all tides of invasion.
"Furthermore does that good Prince offer up two-hundred thousand złoty for the debts of the impoverished, the payment of ransoms for those held by our enemies, and amnesty for our exiles!"
Bribes, bribes, and bribes — the jeers of your camp make that known, but a bribe is, indeed, a bribe. Which bodes ill, because, well, who doesn't want things for free? Maciej failed to appeal to any of the baser needs of men. That last point, meanwhile, was clearly directed at the Zborowski brothers. You look for them in the crowd, and spot one brother, Piotr, looking very sober.
"I offer the Archduke but with substance, friends, substance and not a whelp's bluster! A liberal-minded Catholic of experience, poise, and boundless generosity, full-fledged and fully-grown to face these trying times! Everything the young Habsburg, that would-be tyrant, offers up — Stefan Batory has already proven that he shall provide!"
The Piasts cheer with renewed confidence. Surprise or no surprise, the choice of Batory cannot be emphasized enough to be a good one.
A small wave of panic spreads through the Habsburg faction.
That night, you…
[] Reach out to the Archbishop-Interrex.
At the end of the day, he may declare a new King personally. An ace in the hole?
[] Speak to the Archduke personally.
Offer up congratulations, and advice on going forward.
[] Introduce the Archduke to the Zborowski brothers.
Try to arrange a counter-bribe.
[] Speak to the delegates of the Danzigers and Prussians.
They've been awful quiet so far.
[] Attempt to agitate the Piasts.
Stir up fears of the noble rabble, a tyranny of the majority. Show Maciej who these people really are.
[] Parlay with Zamoyski.
In the interest of avoiding civil war or foreign intervention — but without making concessions.
Mind what you say next; give the lordlings a little air to breathe, and ensure that no duels arise from this. "Indeed, our twin countries and their laws are in need of constant repair and strengthening – as one would maintain a fine castle – but this man merely wishes to have the great hall to himself!"
"It's all just a ploy to rile up good gentlemen," yells Krzysztof, "seducing them with promises of wealth and power and…" he trails off, allowing himself to be drowned out.
It's a difficult position to be in. You cannot say to the lordlings' faces that they do not deserve what they're asking for. That would turn the assembly field into a mass brawl or worse, nevermind the way young Maciej would have to disavow such comments on the spot.
Ah!
"Lord Archduke, would you vanquish our countries' foes?" you ask theatrically, serving him an easy bobble to volley back. The clamor dies down near-imperceptibly.
"Most assuredly!" He lights up. The Piasts start groaning: of course he'd say that!
"No, no, my lords, but I will tell you how! I am told the Muscovite foeman utilizes two things in great number on the battlefield: the chainmailed lancer, and a kind of musketeer who fights with a short poleax. There was a Freiherr von Herberstein who spent many years in the lands of those Easterners and…"
He launches into a genuinely impressive explanation of how best to counter such a force using Western fighters, recalling examples learned from the Great Captain's Royal Thirds in Italy – and that Western muskets outrange Muscovite ones, while mixed units of pike and shot would ward off cavalry and infantry alike.
You can't help but smile: although only six or seven years apart in age, you remember your days in Paris with De Re Militari and a head full of Seigneur Strozzi's sayings. You were eager to lead men in a different way, a better way, without the terrible atrocities that Frenchman meted out on Frenchman before your eyes. What a silly lad you were. The young Archduke has clearly done his reading.
Plenty of people are still trying to shout him down, of course. But the insults are becoming less and less coherent, and Zamoyski himself has paused to listen.
"Regarding your Tatar heathens," Maciej continues, "we in Austria and Hungary understand the importance of a solid Military Frontier, a line of forts staffed with good farmer-soldiers – I'm told there already exists a corps of horsemen who live on the land they protect."
Maybe the Zaporozhians ought not be brought up; after all, they could be as great a danger to lords and princes everywhere as they are to the Tatars. The Archduke seems to have been fed a simplified version. But: "with their help," says Maciej, "will your Southern foes be brought to heel. Livonia will be reclaimed with Imperial pike and Sarmatian saber working as one!"
Hear hear! Krzysztof chuckles and talks to no one in particular. "Very good, very good; easier said than done, but…"
You can see Zamoyski fiddling with his mustache. "What of the ecclesiastical courts?" he calls out.
Maciej hesitates, earning boos. "Firstly—" he half-stammers, "firstly — your Confederation and rights will be protected always. I will sign my name to that. But we cannot forget that this is, at its core, a place of Catholics, with a crown anointed by the Holy Church's God and His representatives — not any other man's Lord! To that end will I restore the church-courts' power on all non-confessional matters!"
A cry of priest's concubine! arises, but some of the lordlings cross themselves; the once-silent bench of clergymen clap, a few rising to their feet in standing ovation. You're sure he's not the most familiar with the arcane laws of the land — hence the relative vagueness of this promise — but he likely just earned even the most Piast-leaning bishop's assent.
Zamoyski shakes his head and addresses those around him, though still clearly loud enough to be talking to everybody in truth. "A friend only to the bejeweled, clearly."
"No!" snaps Maciej. "Never will I deny the right of a local parliament — your sejmiki — to convene. I shall lead, not rule! Even Augustus looked to the Senate."
That was quite a flourish, even if bringing up an imperator may be a little sore. He's captured enough attention to go on. "Youth shall be my friend! For from youth comes not just vigor — which will be used for the good of the realm — but a willingness to learn." He switches to Polish: "your clothes I will wear, your tongue I will speak, your land I, eh, ah, adoptabo!" Your side raises a hearty cheer.
"You may find a man with greater wits than I, greater experience, but is it not easier to break a colt than a grown stallion? But a stallion will a colt become."
"Good lad!" roars Krzysztof.
"I'm glad he slipped in some humility at last," observes Septimus.
"I will leave you all to your thoughts on me soon," says Maciej, "but my final note: I offer myself up in marriage to the most noble and lovely Infanta Anna," he says, sounding strong but not necessarily excited. A little gasp runs through the crowd. "Should the good lady have me," he adds deferentially.
To cheers and (perhaps fewer) jeers does the Young Archduke withdraw, and that's when Jan Zamoyski dismounts from his man's shoulders and strides forward to where Maciej was standing but moments prior. "An impressive young man, it cannot be denied," he begins, "but will we allow unholy marriage between Empire and our Nobles' Republic, to allow a cruel husband to dominate our dear mother?"
No!
Quit your fearmongering!
The verbal brawling starts up anew. "We need a man who has ruled before, and yet shall be alone in a new country, a man who will be the husband to the Infanta, and she will rule as our home-born Queen!" A bluff, and an appeal to native sons by means of rhetoric. They would never hand power over to a woman, let alone a pious spinster. "To this end do I put forth the Transylvanian Prince, Stefan Batory! Already does his delegation move for Kraków. Unlike our young friend, this man has achieved: victory against the Turk, an outfoxing of the Empire, and the defeat of his own rivals in word and with blade!"
He's shown his hand at last. And a great choice, to boot; the man is half-legendary, the captain of a fortress-country that stems all tides of invasion.
"Furthermore does that good Prince offer up two-hundred thousand złoty for the debts of the impoverished, the payment of ransoms for those held by our enemies, and amnesty for our exiles!"
Bribes, bribes, and bribes — the jeers of your camp make that known, but a bribe is, indeed, a bribe. Which bodes ill, because, well, who doesn't want things for free? Maciej failed to appeal to any of the baser needs of men. That last point, meanwhile, was clearly directed at the Zborowski brothers. You look for them in the crowd, and spot one brother, Piotr, looking very sober.
"I offer the Archduke but with substance, friends, substance and not a whelp's bluster! A liberal-minded Catholic of experience, poise, and boundless generosity, full-fledged and fully-grown to face these trying times! Everything the young Habsburg, that would-be tyrant, offers up — Stefan Batory has already proven that he shall provide!"
The Piasts cheer with renewed confidence. Surprise or no surprise, the choice of Batory cannot be emphasized enough to be a good one.
A small wave of panic spreads through the Habsburg faction.
That night, you…
[] Reach out to the Archbishop-Interrex.
At the end of the day, he may declare a new King personally. An ace in the hole?
[] Speak to the Archduke personally.
Offer up congratulations, and advice on going forward.
[] Introduce the Archduke to the Zborowski brothers.
Try to arrange a counter-bribe.
[] Speak to the delegates of the Danzigers and Prussians.
They've been awful quiet so far.
[] Attempt to agitate the Piasts.
Stir up fears of the noble rabble, a tyranny of the majority. Show Maciej who these people really are.
[] Parlay with Zamoyski.
In the interest of avoiding civil war or foreign intervention — but without making concessions.
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