Re: Steel and Gunpowder

Chapter 124: Preparing The Wedding Gift

Konrad stood in the corridor, his eyes calmly scanning the broken lockbox resting at Katarina’s feet.

It was the spare key box for the postern gate... a completely obscure, narrow iron door located at the very rear of the keep, normally used only by the kitchen servants to dump ash from the ovens.

Konrad ran a hand through his hair, the locks falling around his face.

He looked at his future bride. Katarina was breathless, her wedding dress contrasting with the sheer panic etched across her features.

"The Bishop sneaked out, Katarina?" Konrad repeated.

"Yes." Katarina hissed, taking a step toward him. "Konrad, do you not understand what this means? If the Vatican envoy is fleeing the keep on the morning of our wedding... the decree has been signed. My father is going to break the alliance today. The Bavarian halberdiers are going to march!"

Though her terror was justified, Konrad just let out a long sigh. He walked forward.

"Do not worry about the fat clerk," Konrad stated, closing the distance between them. "I knew what the Bishop was planning. I let him leave."

Katarina blinked. "You let him leave? Are you insane? He is riding to Munich to deliver the Pope’s terms to my father’s generals."

"Let him ride," Konrad grunted, leaning against the stone wall of the corridor. "Let him exhaust his horse in the mud. By the time that Vatican rat actually reaches the Bavarian border, the board will already be entirely flipped."

She knew the broad strokes of his plans, but she didn’t know the undeniable reality of what had been happening in the lower levels of the keep over the past month.

"You have been sitting in the guest wing for a month and a half, Katarina," Konrad explained. "You saw the endless merchant wagons coming from the east. You saw the new recruits drilling in the valley. But you haven’t seen the final tally."

He held up a finger.

"Seven thousand, one hundred men," Konrad whispered. "That is the exact number of soldiers currently sitting inside my garrison and patrolling the western trade routes."

Katarina froze. "Seven thousand?"

"...Margarita’s silver florins drained the mercenary markets. We bought elite Swiss Pikemen. We bought veteran landsknechts who were starving under the banners of bankrupt Dukes. But that isn’t even the best part." Konrad smiled.

He stepped closer, invading her personal space.

"A massive portion of those new musketeers are from Savoy," Konrad revealed. "The very peasants and local border guards we conquered are now wearing Swabian black. They saw the new trade routes. They saw that I actually pay my workers in pure silver instead of empty noble promises. Under the von Frundsberg ledgers, the Savoyards are entirely happy. They have turned their backs on their old Duke because Swabian iron feeds their families."

However, Katarina was a Wittelsbach... she knew that raw numbers didn’t automatically erase a threat.

"Seven thousand men is a massive army, Konrad," Katarina admitted. "But my father can still call fifteen thousand. He has the salt money. He has the bronze siege cannons. If he realizes you are a threat to his new imperial seat, he will drown this valley in blood just to please Rome."

Konrad stared down at her.

"Katarina..." Konrad murmured. "What if we don’t fight his army at all?"

She frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your father is sleeping in my guest wing," Konrad stated flatly. "He is surrounded by my men. His personal guard consists of exactly forty Bavarian halberdiers. I could slaughter them before they even manage to put on their breastplates."

Katarina’s breath hitched. Her dark eyes went wide.

"You have no brothers, Katarina," Konrad continued. "You are the absolute primary heir to the Wittelsbach line in Munich. If Duke Wilhelm suddenly... chokes on his breakfast this morning... the entire Duchy of Bavaria legally passes to you."

He reached out, his hand gently tracing the edge of her velvet sleeve.

"And since we are getting married in the Great Hall in less than ten hours..." Konrad whispered. "All of those lands, all of those salt mines, and all fifteen thousand of those Bavarian landsknechts will instantly belong to me. I wouldn’t have to fight a war. I would become a full Duke in a single day."

One dead fat man in a guest room, and the entire southern half of the Holy Roman Empire would instantly fall under the Swabian industrial machine.

Katarina stared at him, horrified. She took a step backward, her back pressing flat against the wall.

"Konrad... you cannot," Katarina breathed, her voice tight. "He is a treacherous, greedy bastard, yes. He is willing to sell me to the Vatican for a chair. But... he is still my father. Please. Do not murder him in his sleep like a common cutthroat."

She reached out, gripping the front of his doublet with her hands.

"If you kill him in your own keep, the continent will know," Katarina reasoned frantically. "The other Dukes will never accept it! The trade guilds will freeze our accounts. You will be an absolute pariah!"

Konrad looked down at her hands gripping his shirt.

He heard her words... he understood the fallout of executing a sovereign Duke in his own guest bed.

But the idea... the sheer simplicity of it... actually made him insane to do it.

His hand twitched toward the wheellock pistol resting in his belt.

It would be so easy... he could walk down the hall right now, kick the door open, and put a lead bullet squarely between Wilhelm’s eyes.

Konrad slowly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath of the morning air, forcibly shutting down the violent urge.

He needed the legitimate, undeniable integration of the Bavarian resources, not a highly unstable, bloody usurpation that would require another decade of internal civil wars to pacify.

He opened his eyes and placed his hands over hers, pulling them away from his doublet.

"I won’t kill him in his bed, Katarina," Konrad grunted. "You are right. The other Dukes would rebel. I need his surrender, not his corpse."

Katarina let out a sigh of pure relief. "Thank you. Konrad, you terrified me for a second."

"I terrify myself sometimes." Konrad admitted dryly.

He entirely completely adjusted the collar of his doublet.

"...the wedding is moving forward as planned. We are going to lock this alliance in stone right in front of the remaining Vatican spies."

He offered her a sharp smirk. "Go back to your chambers," Konrad ordered. "Wash your face. Put on the rest of your pearls. Be ready to smile for the Bavarian guards and the local peasants. When the bells ring, I will come and stand beside you at the altar."

"And what are you going to do until then?" Katarina asked.

"I am going to prepare my own wedding gift for your father..." Konrad replied.

He turned his back on her and began walking down the corridor.

Konrad rounded the corner and spotted a young, half-asleep Swabian maid carrying a bucket of fresh water for the morning basins.

"You!!" Konrad barked.

The maid jumped, nearly dropping the bucket. "Yes, Lord Konrad."

"Drop the water," Konrad commanded. "Run to the lower barracks. Find Marshal Eckhard. Then, go to the nursery and find Lady Isolde. Tell them both to drop whatever they are doing and report to my private study immediately."

"A-At once, My Lord!" the maid stammered, abandoning the bucket and sprinting down the stairs.

As he reached for the handle of his study door, Konrad’s mind began to work through the final equation of the morning.