Paw Prints Along the Rhine

By Norman E. Stephenson

Finally, due to great demand, the long awaited sequel to trilogy Paw Prints Through the Ages makes its appearance. This time our intrepid time traveling cat Beauregard and his friends time jump into the violent Burgundian/Swiss wars of the late 1400s. Their adventures in that period are as exciting and remarkable as
those they experienced during the crusades. Beau is his usual self, and his bonded human partner Ramn, his friends Raza and Alice,
and a few new characters, join him in taking part in and recording the true events of the Burgundian Wars. Like Norms previous
novels, this book is a blend of history, fantasy, and science fiction, which means the reader will never be bored. It is also, like all of his other works, a stand alone book, which means you do not have to have read the others to enjoy this one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 22, 2010
• ISBN: 9781440195839

Norman E. Stephenson

Norman E. Stephenson resides in Western North Carolina with his wife Charlotte and son Johnathan when he is not traveling the world in search of new and exciting subjects for his novels. He has been concentrating on the medieval world. Norm’s prior novels range from the end of the 12th century through the 13th. With this book, Norm moves on to an important war in the 15th century, but will soon move forward in time to look at the momentous events of the Russian Civil War, 1919-1920, and the beginnings of what would later become the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency

Book preview

Contents

AUTHOR’S NOTES

AND AKNOWLEDGEMENTS

FORWARD

chapter one

How the New Adventure Began

CHAPTER TWO

How we arrived in Efringen, near the headwaters of the German Rhine’s journey to the sea.

CHAPTER THREE

Raza and Alice return with news of what transpired on the road.

CHAPTER FOUR

We arrive in France, just in time for me to see one of the most famous villains of the time. I also learn just whom Raza and Alice met in Switzerland, and what he told them.

CHAPTER FIVE

What happened in Alsace-Lorraine

 CHAPTER SIX

I watch as Raza fights soldiers of the Swiss Army, and then begin my long cat-trek back to the camp.

CHAPTER SEVEN

How Pope Sixtus considers his options and avenues to maintain and increase the power of the Church.

CHAPTER EIGHT

How the Swiss forces, joined by Raza and his friends, chased the battered troops of Charles the Bold toward Lake Geneva.

CHAPTER NINE

The battle on the Planta

CHAPTER TEN

What occurred before, during, and after the Battle of Grandson

CHAPTER ELEVEN

How Alice remembers her life before Raza and she teamed up. Also, how she befriends Mary, daughter of Charles the Bold, and promises to be her bridesmaid.

CHAPTER TWELVE

How Raza survived an ambush in the caves of Switzerland. Also, Charles the Bold and Emperor Frederick III pledge their children in marriage, and discuss Charles’s plans for the future.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

How we watched an attack on the Burgundian luggage wagons. Also, how Raza goes to see the commander of the Swiss Army at Murten.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Charles the Bold’s reaction to the raid on his baggage train, Also, what I saw and did after listening to him praise Patrick.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The attack on the old fortress at Murten on Lake Morat.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I help Vlad Tepes become one of us.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Battle of Nancy, and what Mary of Burgundy did after learning her father was dead. Also, I meet a new friend.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ramón and I take a respite from our journey to the 15th century and my mate lets us know she is wise to our secret travels.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Alice and Sarah discuss the future, and how Alice will provide for food, entertainment, and accessories for Mary’s wedding.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Battle of Guinegate, and the wedding of Maximilien and Mary of Burgundy, which came after.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

We take a river trip with Patrick McGinnis and purrsuade him to join our little band of time travelers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Alice and I discuss the delights and negatives of life in the 15th century, then we all spend time assessing plans for the future.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Patrick and John Rance discuss the future, then Beau tells Raza and Ramón what he heard. Afterward, the three talk of coming events and missions.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Pope Sixtus IV and Cardinal Cybo hatch a plot.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Cybo goes to the Rhine to enlist Raza in the Pazzi Conspiracy, which ends failure with the assassination of the wrong Medici.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Battle of Giornico

EPILOG

Mary of Burgundy

I Dedicate This Novel To:

My Wife Charlotte, Son Johnathan,

Daughter Stephanie, Son-In-Law Bryan

And Granddaughters Sarah, And Lindsey.

In The End, The Only Treasures Are The

Days We Share With Those We Love.

Books by Norman E. Stephenson

A Little Child Shall Lead Them

Paw Prints along the Rhine

Paw Prints in the Wind

Paw Prints in the Sand

Paw Prints in Time

Paw Prints through the Ages

Raza, Lord of Sand and Sea

Raza, the Final Chapter

Raza, the Balkan War

Raza, Warrior Priest

Bread or Bullets

God’s Blood

*     *     **     *     ***

*     *     ***

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Facito aliquid operis, ut te semper diabolus inveniat occupatum

Always do something, so that the devil always finds you occupied.

St. Jerome

Fallaces sunt rerum species

The appearances of things are deceptive.

Seneca

Fas est et ab hoste doceri

It is proper to learn even from an enemy.

Ovid

Fortitudine vincimus

By endurance we conquer

Anonymous

Hier stehe ich; Ich kann nicht anders

Here I stand, I can do no other

Martin Luther

Honor; Amor; Veritas; sic itur ad astra

Honor; Love; Truth; that is the way to the stars

Norman E. Stephenson

Oderint dum Metuant

Let them hate, provided they fear

Caligula

AUTHOR’S NOTES

AND AKNOWLEDGEMENTS

For this continuation of the Blue Moon Chronicles, we go back to the original format. Long time fans will remember the first book in the Paw Prints series was from the viewpoint of my Siamese cat, Beauregard. In this latest effort, I will return to telling the story from his purrspective, first purrson wise that is. While a bit may be lost in the story line due to this change, I feel much more can be gained by knowing what Beau really thinks and feels during his adventures. My long time furry friend has a unique way of seeing the world, and it is time to reassert his viewpoint into my novels. My own, sometimes strident opinions on various subjects, especially the hypocrisy of the French, also crop up from time to time in my work, and are subject to a certain amount of criticism. These comments, whether ethical or moral, are my own slap at the failure of people of all lands, chiefly that supposed civilized country, to do what is right by other human beings. I make no apologies for these asides, because as the great Martin Luther said in defense of his ethical beliefs: Hier stehe ich; Ich kann nicht anders. - Here I stand, I can do no other. I hope the reader will appreciate my views, and enjoy this and all other tales of Beauregard, the Far-Traveled Siamese Cat, and his human partners, Ramón, Raza, and Alice.

As always, I must thank my son Johnathan for his vivid medieval battle scenes, as well as his suggestions on the presentation of this story. My son Johnathan lent his usual assistance in proof reading this work, as did several friends of long acquaintance, like Ann Taylor. I thank them for their efforts.

Norman E. Stephenson

Rock Creek

Bethlehem, North Carolina

2009

FORWARD

My name is Beauregard, (Bow-re-guard) for you Yankees out there. I am a proud southerner of the feline purrsuasion, or, as you would see me, a cat, not just any cat mind you; I am a pureblooded Siamese Cat. My friends refer to me as Beauregard, the Far-Traveled Siamese Cat, Beau, for short. I guess it is because I have been traveling through time and space for the last 35 human years, or 245 cat years, having adventures with my bonded human partner Ramón, and helping him record events for human kind.

You are no doubt now wondering three things. First, how is it possible for a lowly cat to impart his thoughts and words to humans? Second, how could the same cat live 35 human years? Finally, why the heck should anyone care? These are all good questions.

You can find the answers in any of the purrevious Paw Print books by my human friend and author, Norman E. Stephenson, known here as Ramón. However, since you may be too cheap to run out and buy these great works of American literature, I will answer the questions now.

I can commune with all humans, or any other sentient being for that matter, because one day, long ago, I followed my partner into and through a magic mirror. I entered a time corridor, initially built by a Magician named Merlin. The corridor bestows certain powers on those who enter. Included in these are the ability to speak to any other being, read their surface thoughts and send them your own, and, oh yeah, if the mirrors are entered during the period of a Blue Moon (the second full moon in a given month, which occurs about once every 3 years) you become a bit younger and healthier. There are many other blessings of this form travel, but you will have to read Norm’s books to find them all. As for why you should care. Heck I don’t care if you do or don’t, but you must if you are reading this page. Norm’s other books, except for the brilliant Paw Prints in the Wind, were all told from the purrspective of someone watching the action. This time, after due reflection, it was decided by both Norm and I, to tell the story from my point of view, we call it Paw Prints Along The Rhine. In the past, there have been adventures in the 13th and 20th centuries. This tale of certain events along Germany’s Rhine River in the 15th century, is meant to entertain and enlighten. The normal characters will be present, but the style and viewpoint will be decidedly different. In dictating this work, I hope I will be putting my best paw forward. This book may not be purrfect, but it will be interesting and informative. The reader must judge for him or herself if it ends up being enlightening and entertaining, Enjoy.

Paw Prints Along The Rhine

Book Five of the Blue Moon Chronicles

It soon became clear notable people were staying at the Rhinewatch Inn. The most important of these was an exiled Prince from Wallachia, named Vlad Tepes, Vlad Dracula, or Kaziki Bey¹ by the Turkish. He was on his way south to his own country, and had stopped for a few days of rest. Vlad and his retinue occupied the entire top, fifth floor of the inn. Guards with razor sharp swords and mean tempers insured no one, at least no two-legged purrson, could reach them. Vlad’s harsh reputation preceded him, and few if any of the staff wanted to go near the top floor. Even the hounds living on the premises kept two floors below his rooms. However, curious as my kind is, I decided to sneak upstairs and see the greatly feared, Count Dracula.

Steeling myself for what was to come. As I am a Christian cat, I said a little prayer to Jesus, and then, just to be on the safe side, petitioned the cat deity Bastet to protect me. Once it was quiet in the inn, I crept out of my room and up the wooden stairs to the top floor. Two guards stood at the uppermost landing, but with the hour being late and me being only a cat, they let me pass. From there it was not hard to get into the great Prince’s quarters, so I could see the great man within.

Entering the room, I was surprised to see an ordinary looking human sitting at a small writing table. This human, who everyone seemed to fear, was humming a song from his homeland and writing with a feathered quill. He had short legs, a long, thin face and nose, and a large ‘handlebar’ mustache. However, he was very stocky and looked strong. I could just see his eyes, which in the light of the single candle seemed very green. He’s not very scary looking, I thought as I took position on a shelf behind him. even for a human, Vlad was writing his thanks to someone in Nuremberg, Germany, for his recent induction into the ‘Order of the Dragon.’ I knew about this honor from my study of human history. Only Christian men, who showed great courage fighting the Ottoman Turks, got this. His nickname ‘Dracula’ meant Son of the Dragon. Now, he was a Dragon in his own right. In the missive, Vlad vowed to conduct himself like a Christian, and promised he would not be as harsh with his enemies if he returned to power. I knew from my reading that he would be true to this vow. While he would get the throne back in 1475, his Christian rule left him much weaker, leading to his one and only defeat by the Ottoman Turks, and his alleged death. However, I knew a look-a-like would die of wounds from the battle, while he slipped away to live on. This battle would be near Bucharest in December of 1476.²

CHAPTER ONE

How the New Adventure Began

Bethlehem, North Carolina

May 31, 2007

The day began as any other. It was warm, but the coolness of the porch made my usual morning nap restful. I lay in the shade of a rocking chair at my home near the little town of Bethlehem, North Carolina, waiting for the woman of the house to set out breakfast, as she did every day at nine. This was as good a place as any to wait, as the food bowls were only a few feet away, and I could easily beat my fellow feline residents to them when the time came. Not that it was difficult to do so. Morris, Mama, Socks, and Shadow were somewhat slow of foot and notorious slackers when it came to mealtimes, usually needing help to find their bowls. Sadly, unlike myself, who is of a greatly enhance I.Q.; they, poor things, have the combined intelligence of a small sickly houseplant. Not that they are bad cats you understand, far be it from me to put down those of my own species. They are just normal, everyday stupid cats, good in their place, but hardly critters I would allow a kitten of mine to mate.

Now about me, I had just returned from a hectic trip to the 13th century, and had enjoyed only a few weeks at home with its peace and quiet. My mate, Charlotte, was off visiting her grandkittens and would not return for days. Ahhhh, the peace of one who does not have to answer for his faults was mine, for a while at least. All I had to do was sleep, eat, and enjoy the sunshine. (Where was breakfast anyway?).

I looked up and away from the porch. Thin, lavender streams of clouds coursed across a blue morning sky, bringing with them a sunrise breeze laden with the fresh smell of early summer. The scent of flowers filled my small pink nose, and my black fur covered ears could just pick out the faint buzz of bumblebees flicking from flower to fragrant flower among the hibiscus surrounding the front porch. It would be a purrfect day, warm and sunny. After the life I had led as a time traveler, it was way too peaceful. I should have known my human partner Ramón would soon spoil my rest with yet another mission to the past.

A large shadow blotted out the warmth of the sun, definitely not the black cat of the same name. Then a well-known human voice cut across my slumber like a sharp claw through mouse hide. I was not happy about my nap being spoiled.

Beau, said my two-legged partner. Wake up you lazy cat, we have some work to do.

Work, work, work, work, it’s all you ever care about, I replied in human, opening one blue eye just enough to see who was bothering me. Can’t you let a cat sleep in peace? I asked in an irritated voice.

You’ve slept enough you mangy feline, we have to make our way back to the corridor, times a wasting. We have to meet Raza and Alice at the portal to the 15th century.

Your human whimsical terms don’t impress me, Ramón. I told him stiffly, and whom do you think you’re calling mangy? My pelt is as soft and smooth as it has ever been, and is a lot better looking than your poor excuse for a head covering.

Beau, your ego is showing.

So is your impatience, Ramón.

Just stir your stumps, Beau; we have to leave this evening while the blue moon is full, and we have much planning to do before then.³

That’s still hours away my human friend, I answered with a yawn, showing my sharp white fangs, so go away and come back later. I still have some cat-napping to do.

Alright, he answered as he went into the interior of the house, but I’ll be back when the sun goes down. You had better be ready for a long trip.

Where are we going this time?

We are going to the upper Rhine River area, so be ready for river travel.

That should be easy, I replied, It isn’t like I have to pack.

Even if you did, Beau, you don’t have any pockets.

You, my human friend, I told him, are a laugh a minute. You can go now; I think I hear your wife calling.

Having dismissed my two-legged partner, I again dozed off. Since my morning meal had somehow been forgotten, I chose to close my eyes and dream of fluffy little bird meals, and how tasty they were. I also recalled my early kittenhood; I remembered my days of warmth and shadow….nuzzling against the solid reassurance beside me….squirming with my siblings in a moist milk scent….dozing as a gentle tongue stroked my back, while I made soft mew-cries in dawning awareness of a world both large and new. My vision cleared first, bringing me shapes to associate with the tangle of fragrances filling my senses. Sibling shapes….five little round heads covered in beige fur. Mother shape…..large and gentle, crooning sounds of love, providing warmth and nourishment as she stroked us babies and purred softly to us. It was a good dream indeed.

I awoke much later to the sound of nearby humming pushing insistently against my right ear as I struggled for wakefulness. At first, I sleepily twitched the ear to rid myself of the irritation. When that failed, I half-opened one of my eyes to find myself staring at a monstrosity—a dark, indistinct mass of squirming legs and glittering eyes. I sprang straight up at least a foot with a startled MEEEOW! and a great flailing of legs and claws; the bumblebee that had been guilelessly exploring my ear and nose leaped away in a whir of translucent wings to search for a less excitable perch. I caught a faint hint of disgust from the bug’s mind as it flew away, looking for something calmer to visit.

I was now fully awake and stood shivering with leftover nervous energy, the fur on my back standing straight out like the hair of some diminutive punk rocker, and my whiskers shivering, alert to the slightest touch or sound. What a sight to wake up to. I thought, as I calmed myself, forcing my fur to lie flat again. Luckily, the other felines had not been there to see me act like a Scaredy-cat. One would think a feline purrson such as me, who has lived many lifes more than your average housecat, would have better control over his actions. Try as I might, I have never been able to get over my fear of many legged bugs, but there you are, none of us is without faults, and I for one have never claimed to be purrfect, cute, but not purrfect.

My afternoon ruined, and the sun headed down through the trees, I went looking for my traveling partner, Ramón. On the way, I passed my empty food dish, which one of my fellows had clearly ravaged during my nap. Oh well, I thought, as I stretched my legs and made for the back of the house, I guess I’m the one who is the slacker today. I’ll just have to get a bite to eat in the kitchen before I pad though the mirror into the time corridor.

What is a time corridor you ask? Well, I guess we should get to that before I continue telling of our adventures in 15th century Europe. So, to get you up to speed as it were, I will begin a long time ago….

One afternoon many human years ago, my human, Ramón, and I were at the Rostro in Madrid, Spain. The Rostro is a sort of flea market, but it is much larger and grander than any other you can think of. You can buy anything at the Rostro. From soup to nuts, they sell everything. Every Sunday during the warm months, thousands of Spaniards and foreign visitors descend like wolves to the five by ten-block area in central Madrid to buy their needs, and many of their wants, at a fraction of the price they could get them elsewhere. (The Rostro is somewhat smaller during the winter) Since we needed to buy things, Ramón and I went to the market as often as twice a month.

It was a hot day in central Madrid, and I had padded over to one of the many fountains in the area for a quick dip (I, unlike many of my species, love the water) while my human ducked into a small local shop. He was inside for some time, long enough for me to dry off after my swim and take a short nap. When he emerged, he was carrying a large mirror wrapped in brown paper against the elements, or the mischance of breakage. At the time, I thought nothing of it, as I was as fond of admiring myself as any other good-looking cat, if my human wanted to add another mirror for me to do so, good for him. However, as it turned out, the use of that particular item was to be far from being a mere method of checking my reflected glory. But at the time, I was unaware of how important it