Of Hooks and Cods. The Count and the Empress

Chapter 12, Holland, Summer 1348- fall 1348

Wolter was clearly one of the new generation nobles. He despised to old houses in the south of the Netherlands who tried so hard to trace themselves back to the lineage of Charlemagne and adopted the French court style. Holland was a relatively young realm. During the twelfth century, only a handful of noble houses reigned in the area around The Haque and Dordrecht after the Duchy of Lower Lotharingia became nothing more than a theoretical title. The house of Holland allied itself with fortune seeking knights and together they drove the Frisians to the other side of the South Sea. It were those knights who were granted lands in the newly gained territories. From nothing these knights rose to be the new landed aristocracy and even when the House of Holland was replaced by the French house of Avegnes they remained respected by the Counts. But for the last decades the old houses tried to regain their old standing, adopting French customs, seeing themselves as equals next to the Counts, like princes of the Netherlands, ruling like old fashion feudal lords over their domains, totally ignoring the new opportunities in trade, money circuits and the rise of the cities. The new nobles didn't ignore these changes, rather they engaged in them, like Wolter's father, like Gilbert's and Hedwig's fathers and like Claus. Because of this, they were richer than the old nobility, but still the old claimed to be superior to them, only because their houses were older. Wolter openly shared these frustrations with William. The months locked up made them very close to each other.

"I fear my mother is desperately hanging on to here descendance, being that she is the last of the house of Avegnes to rule over both Hainaut and Holland," William said to Wolter. 

The two were resting in one of William's chambers. Each occupied a comfortable chair, next to a warm fireplace while outside the first cold rains of September had presented themselves.

"Your mother's house never clung on to the old ways, that is why my father respected them so much," Wolter replied with a deep voice. Wolter was smaller, less muscular build than Gilbert, but he wasn't as sleek as Claus. Wolter was a very balanced combination of combat fitness, elegant posture and an average political wit. 

"Yes but right now that is the only thing keeping her in power, denying my father's house to take over."

"I'm sure it isn't that. She might just be protective like most mothers, thinking that you're not up to the responsibility of ruling."

"She hasn't seen me for two years! She doesn't know how much I've changed!"

"That's why you can't blame her."

"I guess you are right, Wolter," William sighed. 

"Besides...," Wolter added. "if so, she wouldn't suddenly ally herself to the old nobility, while she just crushed those in Hainaut."

"My mother is very opportunistic. She will ally herself to those she despises just to get what she wants."

"Hopefully next year everything will be blown over and she can come back, see how much you have changed and abdicate the throne for you."

--

But things didn't look as bright as Wolter had hoped.

After spending six months in a castle the four friends couldn't stand to stay locked up any longer. They decided to take a ride with their horses, but to be sure avoiding visiting big cities. They rode north, to Gilbert's father's castle near Naarden. It was a two days ride and they decided to stop at an inn near Amsterdam. Amsterdam was a small fishing town with some sea traders stationed there, but since hostilities had risen again between Frisia and Holland, those traders avoided the passage between the two realms which they had to take in order to reach Amsterdam. Even so, the company still feared that the town would still have too many inhabitants and therefore more sick people. So they decided to stay at an Inn a few kilometres south of the town.