Chapter 112: Fair and Square
"You are asking me?" Konrad let out a short laugh, dragging a glove across his face.
Katarina stood still in her gown, her eyes serious.
"She is standing inside your impenetrable fortress, Konrad," Katarina pointed out. "She bypassed your shadow-walkers, your gatekeepers, and your heavily encrypted passwords. I naturally assumed you invited her."
"I have no idea who she is," Konrad admitted. "But I am going to find out right now."
However, before Konrad could take a single step toward the center of the courtyard, a booming voice shattered the tense conversation.
"Viscount! Absolutely brilliant!"
Duke Ulrich of Württemberg pushed his way through the cheering crowd of blacksmiths and merchants.
The exiled lord was practically vibrating with excitement. He wore a rich velvet doublet, ignoring the morning wind, and his bearded face was split into a genuine grin.
"I heard the speech from the balcony!" Ulrich laughed loudly. "You crushed the Savoyards! You shattered their keep! The entire Swabian League will be shaking in their boots when they hear that you hold the western trade routes! This is a massive victory for our alliance!"
Konrad didn’t smile. He reached out, grabbed Duke Ulrich by the shoulder of his doublet, and forcibly turned the larger man around.
Konrad pointed his gauntlet at the center of the courtyard.
"Are those your wagons, Ulrich?" Konrad demanded.
Duke Ulrich blinked, confused. He finally stopped looking at the Swabian treasury wagons and looked toward the masked woman.
The exiled Duke stared at the transport wagons parked behind her.
The reality of the Württemberg exile was a miserable ledger of debts and broken alliances.
When Duke Ulrich lost his throne, he didn’t just lose his castles; he lost his monopoly on violence.
Hundreds of his former knights were currently wandering the muddy roads of the Holy Roman Empire, selling their swords to the highest bidder just to survive the harsh winters.
They still wore the black and yellow colors out of stubborn, misplaced pride, which meant the Württemberg banner had basically become a universal symbol for black-market mercenary work.
Anyone with a few silver coins and a sewing needle could stitch the crest onto a piece of cloth and claim to be fighting for the exiled Duke.
This created a completely untrackable shadow market for violence and smuggling.
Konrad had fully understood this loophole, which was exactly why he didn’t immediately shoot the wagons on sight.
"Those... those are my colors..." Ulrich muttered.
He rubbed his beard, his eyes squinting at the masked figure.
"But I don’t have any supply lines running through this valley... my quartermasters are broke."
"Do you know this woman?" Konrad pressed, ignoring the Duke’s woes. "Did you authorize a hidden vanguard to operate inside my borders using your name?"
"I swear on my honor, Konrad, I absolutely no idea who that woman is," Ulrich said. "I have never seen that mask in my life... I don’t have the silver to hire a vanguard like that."
"Stay here," Konrad ordered the Duke. "Do not draw your sword. Do not speak to her."
Konrad stepped away from Katarina and the Duke.
The cheering crowd of peasants fell silent as they watched their Lord approach the strange caravan.
Marshal Eckhard and Captain Ragnar fell in step behind Konrad, their hands resting on their broadswords.
The Swabian Reiters on the walls subtly shifted their wheellock rifles, aiming down at the masked woman’s position.
As Konrad closed the distance, the masked woman finally moved.
Instantly, a dozen heavily armored guards stepped out from behind the transport wagons, blocking Konrad’s path to the masked lady.
Even so, Konrad didn’t stop marching until he was ten paces away from their drawn steel.
These guards were wearing advanced articulated plate armor.
The joints were protected by tightly woven, uniform steel rings, and their hands rested on the hilts of long, beautifully balanced arming swords.
This kind of equipment required massive forges to produce.
It was the exact kind of high-level human achievement and logistical superiority that Konrad respected.
"Hold your ground, Swabian," the lead guard warned. "You will not take another step toward the lady."
"You are standing in my courtyard," Konrad stated flatly. "You are surrounded by three thousand veteran halberdiers, fifty heavy Reiters, and twenty-one twelve-pounder cannons. I suggest you sheathe that sword before I have my mechanics melt you down for scrap."
The guard didn’t flinch, but he didn’t draw the blade any further.
"Stand down, Captain." a soft voice echoed from behind the wall of steel guards.
The armored men instantly parted down the middle, creating a clear line of sight between Konrad and the masked woman.
She stepped forward. "You have a loud voice, Viscount von Frundsberg," the woman said. "And a highly dramatic flair for propaganda. A slave caravan? Truly? I must admit, I am impressed by your ability to manipulate the domestic narrative."
Konrad didn’t smile.
"I don’t have the time or the patience for noble riddles this morning." Konrad said. "You bypassed my outer watchtowers. You smuggled an entire heavily loaded caravan right through my locked gates. And you did it using the stolen banners of an exiled Duke who is standing right over there."
Though he was demanding answers, the masked woman simply tilted her head.
"I bought those banners fair and square, Konrad." she replied. "The men carrying them were starving in the mud. I merely provided them with silver, and they provided me with a highly convenient shield. It is simple economics."
"What do you want?" Konrad demanded. "Are you a Vatican spy? A Savoyard assassin? Or just a highly arrogant merchant who thinks she can walk into a militarized fortress without an invitation?"
"I am a highly satisfied customer." the woman answered. "I bought five thousand of your brilliant wheellock rifles on the northern ridge a few days ago. I am here to negotiate a new contract for your forges."
Konrad narrowed his eyes. "I don’t sign contracts with ghosts. If you want to buy Swabian iron, you look me in the eye. Take off the mask and tell me who is funding this shadow army."
The courtyard was silent. Marshal Eckhard gripped his broadsword tighter. Lady Katarina watched from twenty paces away, her eyes focused on the tense standoff.
The masked woman let out a sigh.
She slowly reached up with both of her hands. She found the hidden clasps at the back of her neck and unhooked them with highly practiced precision.
She pulled the featureless metal mask away from her face.
She was young, perhaps in her late twenties, with striking aristocratic features.
Her skin was pale, untouched by the mud of the trade roads, and her piercing blue eyes locked directly onto Konrad.
She had a regal, undeniable presence that instantly made the surrounding Swabian warlords feel incredibly insignificant.
"You demand to know my ledger, Viscount?" she asked, a smile touching her lips. "Very well."
She handed the metal mask to her waiting guard and stood tall, looking down on the Swabian warlord despite being shorter.
"My name is Margarita de Austria."
Margarita of Austria?
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