To everyone's surprise, Emperor Laszlo ultimately entrusted the task of pacifying Lorraine to his son, Christopher, King of the Romans. Consequently, the long-awaited arbitration that the Emperor and the Imperial Chamber Court were supposed to render regarding the Lorraine dispute was postponed yet again.
It wasn't that Laszlo was unwilling to resolve the conflict; rather, the participants in this struggle were all his allies—not only military partners but relatives tied to him through marriage. More pointedly, both contenders had chosen to "sit on the fence" during the recently concluded Diet of Augsburg instead of standing firmly by his side. Out of irritation, Laszlo resolved that neither party would receive full benefits unless they demonstrated absolute support for his Imperial agenda once more.
His chosen tactic was to propose "middle-of-the-road" solutions that satisfied no one, while letting Christopher—acting as the Emperor's proxy—intervene directly. Since Christopher ruled Franche-Comté and Further Austria, both of which bordered Lorraine, mobilizing resources was relatively convenient. Furthermore, the enemies within Lorraine were not an insurmountable threat. Throwing this mission to Christopher was less a test of his mettle and more an opportunity to bolster his prestige and record of service, smoothing his future path within the Empire.
However, the accompanying pressure from both Burgundy and Baden proved to be a significant headache for Christopher. Since Burgundian troops had already been attacked in Lorraine, Burgundy and the duchy were now effectively in a state of war. As a result, Laszlo's original plan to conduct final mediation and arbitration at Rottweil, near Baden, was scrapped.
Charles soon departed from the Emperor's traveling court with the Burgundian entourage, while the Duke of Baden lingered, reluctant to leave. It wasn't until the procession reached Ulm and the Emperor explicitly declined the Duke's invitations—opting instead to change course for Austria—that the Duke finally panicked.
Despite failing to reach an agreement earlier, the Duke had expected the Emperor's backing. He assumed that because Burgundian expansion had reached an uncontrollable pace, the Emperor would naturally side with him to prevent the Burgundians from easily swallowing Lorraine. He had miscalculated. It appeared that his failure to support the Emperor's resolutions at the Diet had incurred Laszlo's displeasure, leading the Emperor to wash his hands of both parties.
Because the Lorraine affair had escalated from an inheritance dispute into a full-blown war of succession, the Emperor simply pushed his son forward as the Imperial representative. Neither Charles nor the Duke of Baden could tell if the Emperor intended for his heir to seize a piece of the pie for himself, or if he was simply "muddying the waters" to exhaust both sides. Whatever the motive, it certainly wasn't out of the goodness of his heart.
The Duke could understand the Emperor's resentment; after all, his performance at the Diet could be viewed as a form of disloyalty. Perhaps for this reason, when he attempted to speak privately with King Christopher regarding Lorraine, the response he received was ice-cold.
For a long time, the Duke had been trapped in a fatal misconception: he believed the Emperor feared Burgundian expansion as much as he did. In reality, the Emperor did not view the Burgundian threat with the same urgency. The true source of the friction between Laszlo and Charles was Charles's habit of making increasingly bold demands without offering a reciprocal price to the Emperor.
Of course, Charles had his own defense: how much had he already paid over the years for the Imperial lands he annexed? Hundreds of thousands of Florins, the County of Franche-Comté, and even his daughter had all fallen into the hands of the House of Habsburg. Charles desperately wanted to swallow the "choice morsel" that was Lorraine, but he was unwilling to carve off more of his own flesh for the Emperor or his rivals to do so.
From the perspective of the other princes, the Emperor was "rearing a tiger that would eventually cause trouble." Charles now appeared to have grown strong enough that he no longer felt the need to act according to the Emperor's whims. As the King of Burgundy and one of the most powerful monarchs in Western Europe, he possessed the capital for such arrogance—though whether he could truly challenge the Emperor's authority remained an open question.
As for the Duke of Baden, if Lorraine were simply placed before him, he was confident he could take it. But to compete with Burgundy in a war for that land? He wouldn't dare try without the Emperor's support. Thus, on the eve of his departure from the Emperor, the Duke finally cast aside his petty schemes and pride, offering up his "cheap loyalty" once more.
"To be honest, I am disappointed. Duke Karl, it took you this long to grasp a very simple problem—to realize exactly who needs whom. It made me doubt my own judgment in selecting allies and Circle Governors," Laszlo remarked, casually expressing his dissatisfaction to the bowing Duke.
Karl turned pale and explained hurriedly, "Majesty, I did not think things through before. I hope you can give me another chance. Whether it is the Common Tax or maintaining the Swabian League, I will obey your every arrangement."
"And the arbitration of the Lorraine dispute?"
"That... is entirely up to you, of course." Though he hesitated, Karl quickly fell into line.
"That's more like it," Laszlo smiled, gesturing for Karl to sit.
Only then did the Duke breathe a sigh of relief.
"Previously, both of you betrayed me at the Diet, which left me with no interest in meddling in this mess—I don't actually care about Lorraine itself," Laszlo said.
"It was all my fault, Majesty."
"If there is no force to execute the results of an arbitration, then the situation is no different than it was forty years ago. What would be the point?" Laszlo asked.
Forty years ago, the House of Lorraine went extinct, and the Duke of Anjou took control, sparking the first War of the Lorraine Succession. In that conflict, the claimant Antoine, Count of Vaudémont, was supported by Philip the Good of Burgundy, while the Anjou-Lorraine side was supported by Duke Karl's father, James I. The then-Margrave of Baden had participated in the long war against Burgundy as the brother-in-law of the Duchess of Lorraine.
The war began in 1431; within months, the Duke of Anjou was captured by Burgundian forces and spent two years in prison, only gaining temporary freedom by offering his two sons as hostages. Later, Emperor Sigismund rendered an arbitration in 1434 during a lull in the Hussite Wars, formally investing René as Duke of Lorraine and ending the dispute by arranging a marriage between the claimant Vaudémont and the Anjou family, ceding some land in the process.
Sigismund made that ruling because Luxembourg was then on the verge of being swallowed by Burgundy. To check Burgundy and protect his family's ancestral lands, Sigismund needed a strong ally. Unfortunately, the moment the arbitration was issued, the Duke of Burgundy flew into a rage. He forced René back into prison for another three years by threatening to execute his sons. During this time, the Burgundians forced the Emperor's niece, Duchess Elisabeth of Luxembourg, to abandon her lands; she died mysteriously in exile. The struggle ended with Lorraine ceding further territory to Burgundy.
Later, during the reign of Albrecht II, the Habsburg Emperor sent his cousin, Albrecht VI, as an envoy to Burgundy. Though Albrecht VI would later die rebelling against Laszlo, his contributions in the early days of the dynasty were significant. He reached a settlement with Philip III, exchanging a marriage contract (marrying the Emperor's daughter to the Burgundian heir) for the transfer of sovereignty over Luxembourg. The Habsburgs themselves had little interest in Luxembourg and were happy to compromise.
During those negotiations, Philip III had demanded much: rule over Friesland as Duke of Holland, full sovereignty over the Margraviate of Antwerp, the title and lands of the Duchy of Limburg, and finally, the subjection of Lorraine to Burgundy. Only if these were granted would he swear fealty to the Emperor. His claims to Friesland and Lorraine were rejected, so the Duke never swore fealty, settling instead for a marriage alliance between the Houses of Habsburg and Burgundy.
Time had passed, the second War of the Lorraine Succession had broken out, and the relationship between the parties had changed drastically—yet it felt as if nothing had changed at all. As the son of a participant in the previous dispute, Duke Karl was well aware of this history. He felt a sudden chill of fear regarding his recent foolish choices.
As the Emperor said, if he were excluded from the protection of the *Imperial Peace Decree* for refusing to pay the tax, the Emperor's "arbitration" would be his death warrant. The Burgundians could simply attack Baden directly, not just to take Lorraine, but to crush any competing claimant. Recalling the hardship of being beaten by the Elector Palatine and imprisoned in Heidelberg, Duke Karl shuddered.
"You are right, Majesty. Without your protection and judgment, everything would fall into chaos."
Laszlo nodded. He had originally intended to use the Duke of Baden as an example to intimidate the other princes, but that would have bolstered Charles's ego and undermined his own Imperial authority. By contrast, forcing the much stronger Charles to yield—while harder to implement—would yield more spectacular results. Letting the princes see firsthand what happened when a small state was bullied by a large one was far more effective than sending troops to pillage the Empire.
"Then work for the Lorraine you so desire."
"You mean...?"
"The Archbishop of Trier—the Bishop of Metz is your own brother. The Duke of Württemberg is your ally. The Count Palatine wants back what he lost. The small states on the west bank of the Rhine, led by Strasbourg, will not stand by and watch the Burgundians seize Lorraine. Mobilize every force you can, sign as many mutual defense treaties as possible, and leave the rest to me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Majesty!" As Laszlo pointed the way, Karl's eyes lit up. In truth, a dozen allies mattered less to him than a single promise from the Emperor, but he would follow orders.
Later, the Archbishop of Mainz brought the Chamber of Princes' *Common Tax Regulation*, and the Duke of Baden added his signature and seal. He was beginning to understand the Emperor's intent: this wasn't just taxing subjects; it was a "protection fee" for the Estates. Fulfilling "Imperial obligations" in exchange for Imperial protection and legal dispute resolution was, after all, a very sound business deal.
Laszlo and Archbishop Adolf watched as Duke Karl left the room with a light step.
"Majesty, Westphalia and Pomerania are willing to contract for 35,000 Florins in tax. The Imperial Free Cities are expected to turn over 40,000, and other Estates perhaps another 20,000 to 30,000. However, because some regions have completely detached from the Imperial system, the actual revenue may be discounted."
"So we face a fiscal gap of roughly one-third? We just need to survive until next year; we have some time to find other sources of revenue to fill the hole."
"What do you plan to do? Provoke a war?" The Archbishop could think of no other way.
"If necessary, I will," Laszlo said, leaving the possibility open. Sometimes, meeting violence with violence was the most efficient path.
After the Archbishop left, Laszlo received a letter from the northern frontier. Grand Master Heinrich of the Teutonic Order reported the latest developments in Poland. After fierce debate and some armed struggle, the Polish Sejm had chosen Konrad, son of Bolesław, to inherit the throne. His support came mainly from Masovia and the remnants of Greater Poland.
Dissatisfied lords from northern Lesser Poland had promptly invited Grand Duke Casimir of Lithuania to restore the Polish-Lithuanian union. Rumors claimed Casimir was assembling a Lithuanian army to seize the Polish crown. Meanwhile, the Order pleaded with the Emperor not to support Casimir's "illegal" claims and hoped for Imperial backing to reclaim Samogitia.
That land had slipped from the Order's grasp after the Battle of Grunwald and was annexed by Lithuania in 1422. Around 1441, the newly crowned Casimir had granted Samogitia autonomy. This territory severed the connection between the Teutonic Order and its Livonian branch, dealing a heavy blow to their power. Having repelled Poland and seized some of its lands, the Order's primary goal was now the restoration of its former glory.
"The Teutonic Order and a Polish alliance against Lithuania? Why do I have such dreams?" Laszlo shook his head. He couldn't be sure if the Order had reached a compromise with King Konrad, but both sides were on the verge of fighting his brother-in-law.
It had nothing to do with him, yet everyone wrote to seek his support—as if an Imperial authorization guaranteed success. Laszlo couldn't help but feel a certain irony. If he truly had such power, the world would have been at peace long ago.
Regarding the Order's request, he treated it as he had Casimir: he offered platitudes, advised prudence and calm, and then ignored it. As long as he didn't explicitly oppose any side, they would surely tear each other apart. Meanwhile, he would take the opportunity to reorganize the Empire and expand Austrian power and territory.
It was, perhaps, the best of all possible arrangements.