Re: Steel and Gunpowder

Chapter 125: The Swabian Army

Thus, the doors of the private study remained locked against the waking keep.

Konrad stood behind his desk, his calloused hands resting flat against the messy blueprints.

He didn’t have to wait long.

After exactly seven minutes, a sharp fist pounded against the wood.

"Enter," Konrad commanded.

The door swung open, and Marshal Eckhard marched into the room. The old veteran wasn’t wearing his formal parade armor for the upcoming wedding.

Instead, he wore his deeply scratched, blackened steel breastplate, ready for actual warfare. He closed the door behind him and offered a cris salute.

"You sent for me, Lord Konrad?" Eckhard grunted, his scarred face serious. "The courtyard is an absolute mess of flower carts and nervous cooks, but the men are on standby."

"Forget the flowers," Konrad stated bluntly, pointing a finger at the chair. "Sit down. I need the unvarnished ledgers of our military strength now. Health, morale, weapons, and how many of every single type we have in the garrison."

He took the seat. "For the infantry, we have our original three thousand Swabian halberdiers. They are rested, and their health is absolute perfection after a month off the muddy roads."

Konrad nodded slowly. "And the mercenaries?"

"I bought two thousand elite Swiss Pikemen from the eastern borders," Eckhard continued, a deeply satisfied smirk touching his lips. "They are expensive bastards, but they are lethal. We also secured six hundred veteran landsknechts who deserted the bankrupt Dukes in the north. They are currently garrisoned in the lower barracks, sober and fully armed."

"What about the Savoyards?" Konrad asked, leaning forward over his desk.

"One thousand, five hundred musketeers drafted from the newly annexed western border," Eckhard replied. "Their morale is high, and they haven’t reported a single case of camp fever or winter sickness."

Konrad’s dark eyes narrowed. "And the weapons?"

"Every single man has a blade and a breastplate," Eckhard stated. "But for the specialized Swabian iron... we have four thousand functional wheellock rifles. We have twenty-one twelve-pounder cannons, supplied with dry powder and solid lead shot. And the mechanics just finished assembling two more Gatling carts yesterday, bringing our total to seven."

It was a massive amount of concentrated firepower... If Duke Wilhelm tried to march into the valley, his vanguard would hit a literal wall of lead.

Even so, raw numbers sitting inside a fortress couldn’t completely solve a geopolitical crisis.

They needed to know exactly where to point the guns.

Before Konrad could issue his next order, the lock on the study door clicked loudly.

The door pushed open, and Isolde stepped into the room.

The spymaster was wearing a highly tailored, dark velvet dress that contrasted with the early morning light.

She closed the door softly behind her and walked over to the desk. She looked quite displeased.

Her jaw was tight, and her eyes flashed with a rare suppressed irritation.

Konrad understood why.

Today was the day. In less than eight hours, Konrad was going to stand in the Great Hall and legally marry the Bavarian princess. Isolde was his lover.

She was his most trusted confidant. But in the rigid noble society of 1526 AD, she would never be his legal wife.

She would always be the spymaster hiding in the shadows while another woman wore the Duchess’s crown.

Though she looked deeply annoyed, Konrad knew she didn’t actually care about the romantic sentimentality of the wedding. She had something far more valuable than a piece of paper signed by a priest.

She had his baby.

She had Albrecht. And right now, that small, fragile infant sleeping in the heavily guarded nursery was the absolute, only heir to the Swabian industrial empire.

Who knew what the future held? Maybe Lady Katarina would never birth a man.

Maybe the Bavarian princess would only have daughters, completely leaving Isolde’s son as the sole inheritor of the entire von Frundsberg ledger.

That single fact gave Isolde undeniable leverage over the entire keep.

She was secure in her power, even if she hated dealing with the chaotic noble politics of the wedding day.

"You look thrilled to see me, Isolde." Konrad noted dryly, leaning back in his chair.

"The guest wing is a nightmare of screaming maids and arrogant Bavarian knights, Konrad," Isolde sighed. "But I did not come here to complain about the floral arrangements. I came because my shadow-walkers just returned from the northern ridge."

"Did they spot Bavarian scouts?" Konrad asked.

"We have to assume Bishop Tomas is already galloping down the mud roads toward Munich," Isolde said. "Duke Wilhelm doesn’t know that we intercepted his raven. He thinks you are distracted by the marriage today."

"...."

"Eckhard just gave me the stats. I have seven thousand men fully armed and completely healthy. We can defend the keep for months. But I don’t want to fight a siege. I want to short-circuit his military."

Eckhard shifted his weight in the chair. "If we are going to strike, Lord Konrad, we need to know where to hit them. Where is the Duke’s actual army?"

Isolde leaned forward. "Duke Wilhelm isn’t stupid," Isolde explained, tapping the charcoal against the paper. "He didn’t leave his entire fifteen-thousand-man host sitting idle in Munich. If he was already negotiating with the Pope for a high seat, he knew he would need to act quickly the moment the decree was signed."

"So he mobilized them in secret," Konrad deduced.

"Yes," Isolde nodded sharply. "My shadow-walkers confirmed it last night. The Bavarian vanguard isn’t in Munich. They have been quietly, slowly moving south for the past three weeks under the guise of basic winter patrols."

"...how many men?"

"Roughly four thousand heavily armored landsknechts, and at least ten massive bronze siege cannons," Isolde answered. "They are camped in the dense pine forests just over the northern border."

Konrad stared at the map. "They are less than two days’ march from our walls," Eckhard stated. "If the Bishop reaches Munich and sends the signal, that vanguard will breach our outer checkpoints before the weekend."

Konrad stared at the piece of paper. "Eckhard," Konrad commanded smoothly. "I want you to quietly mobilize the Swiss Pikemen and two thousand of our Swabian halberdiers. Bring the Gatling carts. "

"You want to march on them now, Lord Konrad?" Eckhard asked.

"I am getting legally married in eight hours," Konrad replied. "who is going to be commanding the Swabian artillery when we burn that Bavarian vanguard to ash?"

"....."

"Burn them to ash?" Marshal Eckhard repeated.