Chapter 105: The Legal Justification
If Charles V had a fresh injection of Portuguese gold, it meant he could finally pay his mutinous mercenary armies in Italy.
However, Isolde wasn’t finished... she tossed the first scroll aside and picked up the second.
"And because the Emperor is suddenly drowning in gold, he finally made his move in Spain," Isolde said. "King Francis I of France has officially been released from his captivity in Madrid."
Konrad stood completely still. "He let the French King go? After destroying his army at Pavia?"
"Charles forced Francis to sign the Treaty of Madrid," Isolde explained, tapping the parchment.
"Francis had to surrender massive territories in Burgundy, Flanders, and Italy just to buy his own freedom. He had to leave his two young sons behind in Spain as royal hostages to guarantee the peace."
"Francis will completely ignore that treaty the second his boots touch French soil," Konrad deduced ruthlessly.
"...No King gives up Burgundy just because he signed a piece of paper with a sword to his throat. He will raise a new army, ally with the Pope, and instantly march back to war against the Emperor."
"Exactly," Isolde smiled thinly. "The Empire and France are about to tear each other apart all over again. The demand for gunpowder, wheellocks, and cannons is about to skyrocket across the entire continent. Your forges will not be able to print the ledgers fast enough, My Lord."
Though the prospect of highly profitable weapons sales was incredibly tempting, Konrad knew that a destabilized Europe was a dangerous place for a rogue Viscount trying to build an independent industrial state.
"What else?" Konrad demanded, nodding toward the third and final scroll resting on the desk.
"You don’t look like a woman who just brought me purely profitable news, Isolde."
Isolde took a slow, deep breath, her fingers resting lightly on the final piece of vellum.
"This came from our whisperers in the deep east," she said softly.
"Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent has officially left Constantinople. He is personally leading a completely massive Ottoman host... over a hundred thousand men and hundreds of heavy siege cannons. He is marching directly toward the plains of Hungary."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Suleiman the Magnificent...
The absolute terror of the east.
If the Ottoman Sultan was marching on Hungary, he was marching toward the eastern gates of the Holy Roman Empire itself.
Charles V was distracted by his new marriage and the inevitable betrayal of the French King.
King Francis was about to spark a massive war in the west to reclaim his honor.
Sultan Suleiman was bringing an apocalyptic army to shatter the east.
The high authorities in Vienna and Rome were about to be so overwhelmed by these global threats that they wouldn’t have the time or the manpower to care about a tiny, industrialized valley in Swabia.
It was the absolute perfect storm... It was the exact window of opportunity Konrad needed to conquer his neighbors and solidify his borders without the Emperor interfering.
"The Emperor is looking at France. The Pope is looking at the Ottomans.
By the time they finally turn their eyes back toward Swabia... my Gatling carts will be sitting on every single major trade route in the south."
Even so, his grand industrial ambition was suddenly cut short.
"That is the problem, Konrad," Isolde said quietly. "The shadow-walkers brought one final piece of news from the local taverns and merchant guilds just outside our borders."
Konrad frowned. "What are the merchants saying?"
"They are saying that a impenetrable Savoyard border keep was reduced to smoking rubble in a single morning,"
Isolde reported.
"They are saying that seven thousand Bohemian mercenaries were mechanically shredded into meat by fire-breathing wagons.
They are saying that the Heretic of Swabia has declared an unprovoked war on the Duchy of Savoy."
The secret was out.
It was bound to happen eventually, but he had desperately hoped Marshal Eckhard could keep the mountain passes locked down for at least another week.
He needed time to get his fourteen thousand silver florins safely into his own vaults before the geopolitical shit hit the fan.
"How far has the news spread?" Konrad demanded.
"It is moving faster than a forest fire," Isolde warned, crossing her arms.
"The terrified peasants who fled the Savoyard border towns ran directly to the nearest Bavarian and Swabian trade hubs.
The merchants are packing their wagons and fleeing the region in absolute panic.
By tomorrow morning, every single lord within a hundred miles will know exactly what you did."
Duke Wilhelm of Bavaria was sitting in the Great Hall downstairs, drinking Konrad’s wine and talking about the holy sanctity of their upcoming marriage.
Bishop Tomas was sleeping in the guest wing, unaware that his Vatican allies had just been slaughtered by the very man hosting him.
When the local couriers finally brought this news to the Duke and the Bishop... the von Frundsberg keep was going to erupt into a bloody hostage situation.
"..."
"Double the guards on the guest wing," Konrad ordered. "Do not let any outside messengers or couriers speak to the Duke or the Bishop. If a rider approaches the main gates carrying news from the west, shoot his horse and drag him into the deep dungeons before he can open his mouth."
"I will lock the castle down completely, My Lord." Isolde bowed sharply. "No one speaks to the Bavarians without my explicit permission."
"Good." Konrad muttered.
But as he looked back out the narrow glass window, staring at the mountain peaks to the west, the absolute worst-case scenario clicked into his mind.
The news was spreading because peasants had fled the Savoyard border...
But where exactly was Marshal Eckhard?
Where was the three-thousand-man returning army?
Where were the wagons loaded with 80% of the captured silver?
If the secret was out, it meant the mountain passes were no longer secure.
And if the western roads were suddenly swarming with panicked merchants, fleeing mercenaries, and highly aggressive border patrols looking for revenge...
"Isolde," Konrad whispered. "If the army is delayed on the western road... and the news of our wealth is already spreading through the valleys..."
He turned to look at his spymaster. "Who is standing between Marshal Eckhard’s heavy treasury wagons and the exiled Duke of Württemberg’s masked lady?"
Konrad stared at his spymaster, his dark eyes wide with sudden dread.
If the secret of his invasion was already leaking through the mountain passes, it meant the roads were compromised.
Marshal Eckhard and three thousand Swabian veterans were currently dragging heavily loaded treasury wagons straight through that chaotic fog of war.
And waiting somewhere in that exact same western territory was the mysterious, masked woman who had secretly bought five thousand Swabian wheellocks using the exiled banners of Württemberg.
Isolde simply tilted her head, her face remaining calm.
"Who said anything about this lady being a threat, Konrad?" Isolde asked.
Konrad frowned. "She bought five thousand guns, Isolde. She had an endless supply of Fugger silver. She manipulated the exiled Duke into acting as her political shield without him even knowing it. If she intercepts Eckhard on the road—"
"Lord Konrad, please," Isolde interrupted. "You are projecting your own brilliance onto a ghost. Truthfully? I think she is just a young girl playing a noble game."
Konrad blinked. "A young girl? With that kind of silver?"
"Silver can be stolen, borrowed, or embezzled by a foolish merchant’s daughter," Isolde reasoned, crossing her arms over her dress.
"...a true military commander does not hide behind a featureless metal mask. A real lord flies his banners proudly so his men know who they are bleeding for. She hides her face because she has no real authority.
She is likely a minor spy for a larger house, or even no one of real consequence. You don’t need to worry about her."
Isolde was right... women did not secretly command massive armies of hardened mercenaries in the freezing mud.
Even if this masked woman was incredibly clever with her ledgers, she was still just a single person playing dress-up in a highly dangerous world of men.
"Marshal Eckhard is leading three thousand veteran killers, Konrad." Isolde reminded him softly, stepping closer to the desk. "Even if this little girl tries to block the road with a few borrowed knights, Eckhard will simply grind them into bloody paste and keep marching. The silver is safe."
Konrad rubbed his aching temples.
"Fine," Konrad muttered, pushing the masked woman out of his mind. "You are right. Eckhard can handle the road. But that doesn’t solve the immediate problem right outside my door. The rumors of the Savoyard slaughter are spreading. Duke Wilhelm and Bishop Tomas will hear about the invasion by tomorrow morning."
However, Isolde’s smile only grew wider.
"That is exactly why we need to strike first, My Lord." Isolde stated confidently. "We control the flow of information in this valley. We can now print the casus belli. We will loudly and publicly declare that Savoy violently attacked our innocent merchant caravan."
Konrad’s eyes instantly lit up... he had deliberately sent wagons full of river rocks to the border just so the greedy Savoyard guards would steal them.
He had the legal justification for war.
He just needed to make sure his version of the truth hit the streets before the panicked rumors of his massacre did...
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