Swiss Arms

Chapter 59-65

Swiss Arms

Chapter 59

-VB-

Isabella

She let out a sigh of relief, the last of many today. Hans had taken her and Henry's advice after returning from the bandit hunt, and she felt great about that. Yes, they were not married yet and nothing was set in stone (which meant everything might change), but Hans took her words seriously even though she was a woman.

Yes, she already made it clear that she was no ordinary lady, which was already a hard enough job, but she was still surprised by Hans. It was one thing to listen to a woman during times of peace. It was another entirely to listen to a woman when military actions have been taken.

Well, she supposed that some of it had to do with Henry's insistence that he was family now through Isabella on more than one occasion, though he made sure to imply such rather than name it directly because he was trying to be careful as he too understood that since nothing was set in stone, he needed to walk a fine line lest he ruined it for her.

And if he ruined this for her, then there would be nowhere that he could hide.

As far as she was concerned, Hans's willingness to integrate her into his council was a good thing as it gave her more assurance that he would be taking her on as his wife.

"Bella."

Isabella paused in her thoughts and looked over her shoulder.

Henry had just walked onto the balcony, where she was thinking, and gave her a conspiratory look.

She shook her head. There was no one watching them here; she knew that from experience and having a few of her servants, not peasants, ensuring that she had privacy when she needed to think.

"Henry. What brings you here?"

"... It's about Hans."

She gestured for him to take a seat on the sturdy wooden chair by the table. Like all things in the fort, even the furniture was sturdy. They weren't elegant like the "porcelain" vase and dishes, but they were also not as prone to breakage.

"What about Hans?"

"He is as physically powerful as you told me that he was."

She grinned. "I told you."

"But there is a difference between being very strong and monstrously strong. Bella, I watched him cleave armored men with that sword of his."

She frowned. She knew that Hans was … supernaturally strong. He was stronger than any man had the right to be, especially considering that he did not have the physique of a man who spent all of his time eating and training to get big.

It was something she ignored so far because it never came up in an important question. But she was talking to Henry, who was an important man. Any conversation with him was important, no matter how casual it may sound on the surface.

"It is … unnatural, yes," she agreed. She couldn't avoid it anymore, it seemed. "There is simply no explanation."

"And you are fine with continuing with your plans? Marrying a seemingly unnatural man?"

"He is kind to me. He may even come to love me. On top of that, he gives me his time and attention on top of listening to my advice. He does not stop me from doing things I want as long as I do not harm him, his ventures, and his people. What else could a woman want?"

Henry grumbled. "So you're not scared of him?"

"Are you?"

"... I am."

She looked at him in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be? I saw Hans split an armored man-at-arms with a shield from across the top of the shoulder to the other side of the body at the hip in one strike that didn't even look like he put too much effort into. He sliced through armor, shield, flesh, bones, and organs in one clean hit." He took a deep breath. "And then there were the cloaked soldiers."

"Cloaked soldiers… Oh, you mean his rangers."

"You know about them?"

"Of course. He asked me to get some dyes that were used to make their cloaks."

He shuddered.

"If I ever have the urge to conquer these lands, make sure you remind me about these rangers. They would come and go, disappearing into the forests within a few steps. They could shoot me with their crossbows and I would have no idea where they would be. Nowhere in these valleys would I be safe."

She smiled. "It's good to know that you won't be attacking Hans without serious consideration."

"I would be foolish to attack him after everything I've learned here. I don't want to wake up one night and find him looking at me with that monstrous sword in hand."

-VB-

Hans

Henry eventually left, but he gave me his full support… while eyeing Isabella and then at me with enough meaning about how I gained and would retain that support. After he left, I wrote that letter I said I would write.

Sufficed to say, I knew the gist of the political situation as Henry explained - and Isabella confirmed - that taught me a few things.

The original Duchy of Bavaria was currently splintered into at least a dozen duchies, none of which held dominance over the others save for the Duchy of Austria for the sole fact that Albert I, the emperor who named me baron and then went back to trying to consolidate his power and control in the rich Rhineland and Low Countries.

At the same time, I was giving the emperor a reason to get deeply involved in Swabia and Bavaria. The former region was where the Habsburgs were originally from and lost a lot of their lands to small and large competition. Was it a good idea to give the Habsburg emperor that reason, that excuse, to start strutting around?

I might kick off the Swiss-Habsburg wars earlier than the original timeline.

"Why are you worried?"

I looked up and saw Isabella.

Just like myself, she's done a lot of work behind the scenes. She's especially taken my education focus as her own endeavor and pushed it as far as she could. She did not, however, agree with my measure of releasing what she considered to be critically important knowledge like the basics of science, politics, and economics.

We actually had our first argument because of that and came to a compromise. My knowledge of the likes of politics and science was left out of my public library, for now, while the more widely distributed economy-related books were left there.

"I am wary about bringing the Habsburgs into Swabian matters," I replied with a sigh.

She looked at me in surprise. She knew that I knew much more than I appeared to, but I guessed that I surprised her again by knowing about the matters of high politics.

"The current emperor is fixated on the Lowlands… but you are worried about the emperor after him."

"Yes," I replied. "Emperor Albert knows that his house does not hold the monopoly on power and wants to use the expansion of borders to the northeast and consolidation of power in the west to cement Habsburg rule in the empire, whether they are the emperor or not. If I give him a reason to send troops to Bavaria and these valleys, then they can use that as a precedent and excuse years down the line."

"... I think you are thinking too hard about it," she replied to me as she sat down next to me. "Besides, he is not interested in your lands, is he?"

"I don't want to give him a reason to look in the first place. I may not be rich as the Lowlands nor as heavily populated, that might not be the case a decade from now. There may be more members that join the Compact, and if we grow big enough, then we become a piece of the game that no one can ignore to our benefit and detriment."

Isabella sat down and seemed to ponder on my response. Or thinking of ways to make counterarguments.

"Then how do you intend to stop the Bavarians? Just killing them over and over again is not going to work."

"No, it won't," I sighed. "... So what I wanted to do, by contacting the emperor, is to gain permission to go after whatever their 'base of operation' may be."

She paused.

And then her eyes widened.

"You want the emperor to sanction your military action, and because you will most likely be speaking about bandits…"

"He has no reason to refuse unless I specifically tell him every single detail, starting with the house crests. What I am worried about is not being enough and having to call in the emperor after the situation escalates, because if it can escalate once, then it can escalate again."

"You are making assumptions but I don't fault you for that," she mumbled in reply. "I thought you were going to simply explain to the emperor the entire situation."

I snorted. "I know that's not going to work. Bavaria is far closer to the Duchy of Austria. If I explain in full, then he will definitely try to beat down the dukes. Hell, I know that the Duchy of Upper Bavaria is not ruled by one but two dukes. This will be a great reason for the emperor to force mandated division between the two dukes and then punish the one responsible, which will do doubt cut down on the threat they may pose if the two become one and then unite the rest of the region."

Bavaria, as a region, was more prosperous and populous than the current Habsburg holdings in -.

"He may even go so far as to repeat what his father did."

"... Emperor Rudolf the First?" she asked and then widened her eyes. "Oh. The Swabian Free Imperial Cities."

Albert's father, Rudolf I of the Germans, was the man who fought a war with the Bohemians for the acquisition of the duchies of Austria and Styria and was also someone who readily broke the rule of Habsburg's rivals, the Hohenzollern, by taking their estates in Swabia away and then declaring each and every city they ruled to be a Free Imperial City. These cities included Haguenau, Colmar, and Mulhouse.

He was also the son-in-law of the late Meinherd II … of Gorizia-Tyrol, the late Duke of Carinthia and Henry's father.

Which made him my potential (probable) wife's in-law's in-law.

And if one's "family" was under attack, then someone like an emperor would definitely react.

The situation had the pot-.

"Dear, you are still thinking too deeply without any evidence."

I glared at her before grumbling.

"I think… what you intend to do will achieve the results you want. It will keep the emperor busy and uninterested in this area, give you the chance to directly strike at your enemies without much reprisal, and prevent the Habsburgs from finding a reason to move in."

"... You are awfully clinical about keeping your in-laws out."

She smiled.

"I said I will marry you, Hans. That means I am of your house now. All I can claim for this is that I am reducing the burden that the emperor might have had to take care of instead of strengthening the empire."

Speaking of which, wasn't John, my ward, also a Habsburg by blood, though not in name? He's … probably not a problem. I've noticed that he's been very cooperative. Even wanted to go out and help me hunt down the bandits. He'll also turn into an adult soon enough. His mother told me that he had a marriage lined up for him, which would require that he return to his forefather's ancestral lands.

Gah. So much to do.

… Well, the letter wasn't going to write itself.

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 60

-VB-

Every choice mattered, and I found myself faced with making one of two choices.

It wasn't about conflict, domestic affairs, personal domestic affairs, or even trade.

No, this was far more important, at least in this very moment that I had to make the decision.

[You have reached your first 100 stat in Endurance. Please select your first perk.]

Apparently, my somewhat neglected Gamer system had a perk system built into it, and the perks listed… God, I wanted both of them.

[Hierro: weapons that register as "minor" or lesser threats to the system will not pierce or scratch the skin of the player.]

[Stim Boost: activate during combat to give the player a 10% increase across all physical stats for 1 hour (6 hr cooldown)]

10% boost to all stats would be invaluable, but "during combat" limited its use to exactly that. Considering that most of my time was not in combat, Stim Boost was a perk with limited use. Hierro (I think that's spanish for iron?) was more useful because it could protect me even when I am not paying attention, which would be useful both on and off the battlefield. Assassinations and workplace accidents came to mind.

Hell, experimenting with gunpowder was a surefire way to get shrapnel inside me, but if I had Hierro, then I wouldn't get shrapnel'ed, at least from primitive gunpowder accidents.

… That kind of summed up which one I was going to take.

I chose the Hierro and watched as the screens blinked off.

… Was my skin actually that strong now?

I grabbed one of the many rough jewels in my office. This one was ruby, a material that was second to diamond in hardness. However, ruby wasn't uniform in a way that was suited to become a weapon or a tool. It could be cut and shaped just like a diamond but a raw ruby was not.

And so when I stabbed down at myself with a sharp edge of the unfinished cut ruby, it did nothing. I tried slashing, slicing, digging, and even more stabbing but the ruby, a material harder than iron, could not cut into my skin.

Because it was not a weapon nor a tool meant to cut into flesh.

I frowned as I held up the gemstone and inspected it. It didn't even look like it's been damaged, either.

"Does it depend on physics or my perception and biases?" I wondered out loud before setting the gemstone back down.

Then I pulled out my letter opener from one of the drawers in my "office" desk and stabbed myself with it. The simple bronze knife bent instead of cutting into me despite having struck my skin at the perfect angle for a puncture.

Snorting, I grabbed the blade, bent it back into shape (mostly), and stowed it back into its place.

That would have cut into my skin at the very least if I didn't have the Hierro.

"Nice," I grinned.

Feeling great about my choice, I got up, stretched, and headed out for non-office work.

And that meant that my soldiers and the recruits would suffer my presence today. How fun.

-VB-

Leon

Of Fluelaberg

Former night soil farmer, former shop keep, now a mine manager

(Last appearance: chapter 44)

If the lord told him that managing a mine would have less to do with actually inspecting the miners and more about paperwork and mine inspections, then he might have laughed and rejected the offer.

As it was, he was now a mine manager because he learned very quickly to read and write. He thought it would help him be a better miner, because the lord had a book about mining, but this instead caught the lord's attention and he ended up in this position.

It wasn't all too bad. He got a consistent weekly pay, unlike the miners trying their luck.

"Leon!"

He looked up from his latest paperwork - which detailed how many people sold their raw ores and gemstones for money, how much money was spent and to whom, and more - and saw his new wife, Elenna.

"Elenna, what are you doing here in the mines?" he asked her in surprise. His "office" was situated right next to the mines, which was the perfect place for him to just peer out of the window and exchange money for ores.

Elenna, a short dark-haired young woman from Tyrol, huffed as she looked around his office.

"I came to check on you when you didn't come home for dinner!"

He blinked and unlatched the hooks on the window. When he pulled the wooden panels open, he saw how dark it was outside.

"Oh, I didn't realize…" he muttered before closing the panels again and looking back at her. "Ah… Sorry?"

She huffed again and raised something she had been holding up. It was a box wrapped up in cloth and looked big enough to hold a meal for two people.

"Dinner for you, my time-insensitive husband," she said before pulling a chair over to his table. He hurriedly moved the documents away as she untied the cloth and then opened the smooth wooden box.

Inside the compartmentalized box was -.

"... Goat?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "Beef was too expensive."

That was an understatement. Before, eating meat was once a month thing. Now, he had it every week at least.

He let out a sigh of relief while she snorted at his reaction while pulling out utensils from underneath the box.

He met Elenna and her family when they arrived at Fluelaberg from the east. It was obvious then that Elenna's father had done something to warrant uprooting their family from wherever they were from, and while her entire family claimed that they were from Tyrol, Leon suspected they might be from Bavaria and even further east.

Regardless, he became smitten with her round, heart-shaped face, the resting bitch face, and *cough* curves. He was smitten with her enough that he forwent the dowry from the impoverished family.

The wedding had been … just two months ago. The lord had been gracious enough to give him a full month of "vacation" from work while still being paid. It was a ridiculous thing for the lord to do, but it also sparked a rush among the people to get a position under the lord as it became clear that there were other benefits like that.

Alas, he had to return to work, and Leon found out quickly that he had a tendency to lose track of time… both in bed and at work.

"I know this won't be an issue when we have a child, yes?" she asked him abruptly, and he nearly choked.

"O-Of course!"

She nodded imperiously before digging into the goat meat stew.

They ate together in comfortable silence.

-VB-

Albert I of Germany

Haguenau

There were very few things that irked Albert of the House of Habsburgs.

One of those irksome factors was merchant guilds. They schemed and fought to profit themselves at the cost of the people who paid taxes. In cities and fiefs where the lords let the merchants go wild, the lesser commoners always found themselves downtrodden, weaker, and less able to pay their dues.

Another irksome fact was those who ignored him.

And from what the contents of this letter said, it was very clear that the Dukes of Bavaria were ignoring his words. He had proclaimed not just to the Swabian Alps but neighboring lands that there was to be peace. In response, the Bavarians had sent in their knights, dressed up poorly as bandits, to raid, plunder, and rape. It spat upon his face!

Though he did not recognize the crests he received along with the letters, he very much appreciated having evidence to use to punish those who spat on his orders.

In fact, he failed to get Holland and Zeeland, but this was an opportunity to get a replacement for the lost prizes in the Lowlands. Bavaria offered fertile land, and may serve as a path of westward expansion from his own holdings in the Duchy of Austria.

But first, he had letters to write and dukes to visit after.

-VB-

Rudolf

Duke of Upper Bavaria

Munich

Parchment crinkled underneath his fingers as his rage threatened to consume his entire consciousness.

"Fucking… merchants…!" he hissed and choked as his entire body trembled. His arms bulged as he stretched his discipline and control to keep himself from grabbing the table and throwing it at the wall.

Spies in Fluelaberg finally managed to grab a hold of some of the evidence the Baron of Fluelaberg gathered from the bandit hunt and sketched the coat of arms on the letter.

And they were the coat of arms of his own bannermen. Of knights, barons, and even vogts. Oh, he knew these coats of arms because they were the ones who the merchants complained the most about being in debt.

And it was so fucking obvious how the merchants demanded his bannermen repay their debts: by attacking the merchants' perceived enemy in another lord's lands.

Finally, the parchment couldn't take his trembling hands anymore and tore in half. With it went his control.

"GAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

He grabbed the table and flung it, and his spymaster casually ducked underneath the flying furniture.

Rudolf stood where he threw the table, heaving with his flaring nostrils and wide open mouth. He was so close to drawing his sword and stabbing those bastards, merchants and bannermen alike! They were going to ruin-.

He froze when he saw the uncomfortable face on his spymaster.

"There's more."

It wasn't a question.

The spymaster wordlessly produced another letter.

He tore the envelope open and looked at the letter.

And the rage drained away as he realized just how big this shitfest was about to become. He dropped back into his seat.

"Fluelaberg sent a letter to the emperor," he uttered. "Instead of directly confronting me about it where I could control the situation, the bastard sent a letter to that land-hungry emperor."

Trouble was coming, and Rudolf had a limited window of time to show that he wasn't the one causing issues.

That meant…

"I need to contact the Fluelaberg directly."

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 61

-VB-

I am not a rational actor.

I knew this for a fact. What kind of a person decides to become a hermit when they had access to potentially world-changing power?

An irrational actor did. In this era where it was even more imperative for someone to take the chance to achieve the most they could simply because life was harder, I chose to try and take it easy.

But I had my reasons. The biggest of them was how badly I changed the political landscape of the Swabian Alps with a single battle participation. The Unruly Year never happened in my past life's timeline, but it did in this one. As for the number of people dead, my best estimate to this date was over ten thousand. In some of the least populated areas of Europe, ten thousand people died. Our population density had to be similar to mountainous Scandinavia, for fuck's sake, and so many people died!

Because I got greedy once.

And then I had to act afterward to save my neighbors and then my people.

I still got to enjoy some of the hermit lifestyle, but there was a sense of hesitation that came with even enjoying bits of it.

Should I be spending time with it?

Shouldn't I be expanding something - anything - that would ensure the prosperity of my people?

Shouldn't I be building more roads and schools?

Shouldn't I be opening workshops in other villages?

Shouldn't I -?

Shouldn't I -?

I was … never the most secure person. I never charged into a situation in my first life without having a backup plan and a contingency for the backup.

It was at this point that Isabella entered the picture and began to help me untangle some of my thoughts. Sure, she had been … anachronistically forward with her intentions, but it was also one that was refreshing. I think that's what led me to accept her "proposal," because, for all of the time I spent growing up in this era, I couldn't think like the rest of the people here; I'd been infected long ago by the curse of knowledge, and the lack of memory wipe prior to reincarnation made sure that curse followed me.

I think that inflexibility initially pushed me toward the hermit lifestyle.

I could be as post-modern cosmopolitan man as much as I wanted if I didn't have the social pressure to deal with, right?

It certainly influenced my decision to allow everyone from Muslim Moroccans to Bulgarian Jews to come and settle in my town. This … was something I did despite having encountered some resistance from other members of the Compact.

It was something that never came up as a big deal because the rule of the Compact both prevented and discouraged other members from interfering in the internal affairs of other members as long as they could not conclusively prove the act to be harmful to the "greater good" of the Compact.

What was I getting to with all of this rambling?

… Right.

I was not a rational actor.

I am so irrational, in fact, that an unproven shred of evidence was enough for me to hyperfocus on the Duchy of Upper Bavaria. They already had a track record of wanting my shit, so why wouldn't I? Even if the coat of arms was fake, they were the only ones interested and capable of sending their men-at-arms as bandits. This was something I checked with Isabella.

The Lordship of Milan was focused completely on their Italian neighbors and only minutely on the Forest Cantons, the states that would become the Old Swiss Confederacy in my old life. I didn't share a border with them to be worth investing time and effort into. The Duchy of Austria, the emperor, did share a border with me, but he had been focused solely on the Lowlands until I raised the alarm about recent shenanigans in the Alps; he most likely wasn't the culprit. Tyrol was in my soon-to-be cousin-in-law's hands. Count of Gorizia was my soon-to-be father-in-law. My former enemies during the Unruly Year? I knew for a fact that John, the Count of Toggenburg, was not involved because he was still staying with me, though that would change within the week as he became an adult in the eyes of this era. Werdenberg? They were busy making money hand over fist from trade that went through their lands. Sargans? The number of their men-at-arms that regularly interacted with other members of the Compact hadn't decreased. In fact, the Count of Sargans had made inquiries about becoming an "associate" of the Compact, so he couldn't be one.

This left the Duchy of Upper Bavaria and the County of Montfort. Only the former had shown belligerence prior to the bandit attack. The Count of Montfort was busy making trade deals with some of the Compact members, however minor those deals were. He also lost a shit ton of soldiers to us; he didn't have the capacity to send knights and men-at-arms for that kind of shit.

So what did this have to do with my hyperfocus on the most likely suspect?

Because I was planning on thoroughly subduing the Duchy of Upper Bavaria if it was ever proven that they were even partially responsible for the bandit attack. Oh, it would be hard, especially because most members of the Compact were unlikely to join in on the offensive. Why would they? They were ordinary villagers in the Alps. Surviving was already hard before I came along. The Unruly Year killed more than a few of them. Any and all offensive would have to be done with my rangers, a few of the volunteers, mercenaries, and maybe some help from my future in-laws.

How would I go about ruining a duchy that was almost fifty times the size of my personal lands?

I couldn't go and ruin trade; trade was not a significant part of a lord's income or the livelihood of the vast majority of commoners in these areas. It might affect them somewhat and hurt the seat of their power, Munich, but that wouldn't stop Upper Bavaria from furthering messing with me and my people.

… I was going to have to face them in open battle, wasn't I? While I would happily kill their dukes in their sleeps, if anyone ever found out, then it would be an existential crisis not for me but for my people. The emperor would use it as an excuse to expand into the Compact, which would no doubt help him in connecting his Swiss Austrian lands and the Duchy of Austria proper.

Knock knock.

I looked up from what I had written down, which was nothing incriminating. "Come in." The door to my solar opened, and I saw John (the Count of Toggenburg and my ward) walk in. "John. What's up?"

He looked at me for a second before taking a deep breath in.

"Today's my birthday."

… Yes, I know that. I already have a birthday present ready for you. "Yes, it is. You're an adult now," I said with a smile. I wouldn't call a 15-year-old an adult, but them's the rules.

He took a deep breath in.

"I, Count John of Toggenburg, formally ask for a membership with the Compact."

My quill dropped from my hand.

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 62

-VB-

Early Expansions: Toggenburg

The joining of the County of Toggenburg to the Compact soon became a turning point in the entirety of Swabian Alps region. While it might not have changed the Compact's status as a local power, it certainly started a cascade of events that saw other unsure fiefs, cities, and nobles seeking to join in on the alliance.

Count John I of Toggenburg quickly adopted much of the pragmatic ideas and tools used by Fluelaberg. In particular, he chose to adopt the usage of guerilla tactics and rangers Fluelaberg developed before the ****** War. Count John I would use these advantages that no one else in the region had adopted for the mountains and forested valleys, and waged war upon the County of Sargans. Toggenburg would double in size as a result of this war, and lead to their and Compact's norhtern neighbor, County of Werdenberg, to seek member for protection as well.

This would lead to the ***** War where the new Holy Roman Emperor ******* of Habsburg would seek to prevent the rise of a regional power right next to Habsburg's homeland in the Swabian Alps, which was also a fief held by the emperor.

This, of course, completely ignored the conflict the Compact fought against the Dukes of Upper Bavaria years prior, which Toggenburg also took part in.

In this chapter, we will discuss the specifics of how Toggenburg's induction into the Compact shifted the balance of power within and outside of the Compact.

Except from The Swiss High Medieval Wars by Professor Jennifer Awenschieder (2011).

-VB-

Deacon Benjamin

He took a long sip of his warmed honey water.

Honey was not rare but it was also expensive, especially in the quantities that he acquired lately. Or it would have been expensive had he not been in contact with the Baron of Fluelaberg.

Ah, the baron.

He was a noble who worked like a commoner yet created things so … beautiful.

Benjamin glanced down at his cup. It shined in the fall noon sunlight: a glass cup. Not a wooden cup. Not an iron cup. Not a silver or gold cup. A glass cup. To think that a mere deacon like him would be able to hold a glass cup like this and have it for personal use.

Of course, he didn't gloat about it. It was a precious gift from the baron. He wouldn't dare to use it to make his fellow brothers and sisters in Christ jealous over it! No, it was best used for quiet, personal time.

Knock knock.

He sighed. Downing the entire cup, he set it aside in his desk, stood up, and walked over to the door. He opened it and saw a man on the other side.

"Oh, Brother James. How can I help you?" he asked.

The older brother gulped. "The bishop wishes to see you, deacon."

"The bishop?"

---

"Your Holiness, how may I be of service?" he asked after kissing the bishop's ring.

"Please, take a seat, child," the bishop asked and he did. "Just yesterday evening, a fast-track courier came by from Fluelaberg. He delivered a letter from the baron himself. From what I am told, seven other such letters have been sent out."

"A request to all of the representatives of the Compact?"

"Indeed, and this is because there is a very good reason for such a request," he said before taking a deep breath in and letting it out. "The new heir of Toggenburg has come of age as a ward of the baron, and on the day of his majority, he requested the baron for his County of Toggenburg to become a part of the Compact."

"... I see," Benjamin muttered. "I don't see, however, how I can be of service to you regarding this, Your Holiness."

"You met the count."

'Ah, I see. I am an eye witness to the count's character.' "I have."

"Tell me, what kind of a young man is he?"

"... Do you wish to know his flaws first or his strengths?"

"Let us start with flaws and then finish with strengths."

"Very well, Your Holiness. John, the first of his name, is a loud bo- young man. He is greedy but not overly so. He hates theology and abhors having to learn things that do not interest him. John is not a warrior, however, and wars do not interest him as much as women do."

"Ah, I see. So a regular young man?"

"More or less. He is, however, a learned student of Hans of Fluelaberg," Benjamin continued. "If there is one thing that the baron-in-denial drilled into his ward, then it is discipline. From what I have heard, Count John trains regularly with the baron's rangers, a group of soldiers dedicated to mastering how Hans likes to fight his wars. I believe you are familiar with it?"

"Overwhelmingly powerful on the battlefield and scary outside of it?"

"Well, yes, but more on how he achieves it. He surprises everyone, Your Holiness. These rangers, as far as I saw and what Hans told me, would be the ghosts that stalk any enemies in the day and night. They use the forests and the trees as cover, rough cloak that can be used as cover to blend in with the rocks, and fast-firing crossbows that might need some preparation beforehand but can shoot many bolts before they disappear into the woods again."

"I see. And John is familiar with these?"

"Yes. The boy often talked about how he will make his own rangers once he returns to his ancestral lands."

"And the baron … let John learn of these tactics?"

He nodded. "That's where the second part comes in, Your Holiness. Count John is very enamored by what the baron does."

"How so? Is it his strength?"

"His strength is secondary, if not tertiary, to what the count sees. I would wager that it is how effectively and overwhelmingly powerful the baron shows he is outside of the battlefield."

"The craftsmen and trade."

Benjamin nodded. "Yes, Your Holiness. Count John is greedy. He wants more yet he seeks to have closer ties with the baron. If it wasn't for Isabella of Gorizia, then he might even try to betroth his sister to the baron."

"Betrothing to a baron instead of his peers?" the bishop hummed. "I could see it. If it was anyone else, I would not, but with Hans, I can see a count wishing to do so."

"And perhaps most important to your role as the secular ruler of Chur… I may have overheard talks between the count and the baron about the count wishing to physically connect his lands with that of the Compact to facilitate trade. Or rather to remove a barrier to trade."

And there was only one fief between Toggenburg lands and the Compact.

"Sargans," the bishop hissed.

"Yes, Your Holiness. They struck you down when you were weak. I am personally inclined to allow the count into the Compact if it meant that Sargans, the treachery bastards who would bow their heads to you in prayer, would lose their holdings and titles."

"That would be for the best, yes, even if they do not lose all of their titles."

Benjamin could see that the bishop was already going to vote in favor of the young count.

-VB-

Rudolf II, Count of Sargans ***

Today, he had been looking over the reports of his castle's budget and the tax the peasants working his lands had paid him.

So far, he was in the black. However, it was so slim of a margin that left him in the black that he may as well be in the red.

This had been part of the reason why he had taken part in the Unruly Year as even he himself came to call it. That year was a chaotic mess for those within these valleys as everyone scrambled for dominance and protection.

'To think that the ones who came out on top was not any of my peers but peasants,' he thought with a grumble. It still irked him that peasants who had no right to rise up above him and his peers stood above them, and he knew for a fact that this was because of that one man: Hans von Fluelaberg. The uppity peasant had been favored by the emperor for some reason, and only continued to gain favors as time went on.

Of course, Rudolf knew why; the baron found out how to replicate the ways of the Far East in the creation of those "porcelain" of his. It was beautiful. And then glass began to be sold.

He glanced at his glass cup. He too might have bought a few crates, kept a select few, and then sold the rest to nobles and merchants alike who did not have the means or the time to pass by Fluelaberg.

He might not have gotten those glasswares if it had not been for his spy embedded within the "mining cooperative" of Fluelaberg.

Hah! The baron was stupid. He allowed the miners to have ownership of what came out of the mines. Daily entry fees? Gemstone and ore buyback? Refining services?!

The peasant-baron was mad, and he would doom his tiny fief. Rudolf was sure of it.

"MILORD!"

The sudden shout surprised Rudolf and his quill gritted across the paper (a product that also came out of the Compact). The inked quill ruined the document he had been working on. Irritated, he looked up and glared at -.

"Karl? What are you doing here right now?" he asked his spy.

Karl of Walenstatt gasped as he stumbled into his solar without invitation and placed an envelope.

"P-Please. Read it. Important."

"Did you run up five flights of stairs?" he asked the foolish minor noble before he did as he was asked. He opened the envelope, pulled out a letter (the letter said it was a copy of a letter sent to the village chief of Maienfeld), and read it.

And read it again.

And read it again.

Gritting his teeth, he glared at the spy.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded frantically through his fatigue.

"I cannot let Toggenburg join the peasants. They would have me cornered to a wall…!"

And they had more than enough reason, once they joined forces, to cut off trade coming to his lands, including food trade. He did, after all, attack the bishop multiple times. It would starve him and his peasants. "No, this cannot stand. Mansk!"

The tall man-at-arms walked into his solar.

"Yes, milord."

"Prepare the men! And Karl, I want to know when that boy count is passing through Maienfeld's lands. I want this to look like an accident that happened inside their own lands and not mine."

-VB-

A/N:

*** This is not the Duke of Upper Bavaria. This is a wholly different person/character. He had a single screentime, less than 200 words, back in Chapter 26.

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 63

-VB-

John's sudden request to join the Compact stirred up the rest of the Compact, especially in Maienfeld which was the closest to Toggenburg lands.

This wasn't about them feeling upset. It was the opposite. They saw the admittance of Toggenburg as a good thing because it would mean they would have to worry less about any attacks which may come from that side. Trade would also increase as tariffs would be removed between Toggenburg lands and that of the Compact.

However, the smaller members like Langweis and St. Peter did not like the idea. They were already insulated from external threats by being away from the border of the Compact, and more, their smaller villages were already feeling symptoms of losing out on trade as their people had … stubbornly refused to change. While places like Klosters and Maienfeld had benefited by fully adopting the new technologies I've offered them as peace offerings, Langweis and St. Peter had depended too much on Chur for … basically everything. It was understandable in their position as they were not only the smallest two villages out of our nine members but also the ones stuck behind Chur and surrounded by mountains. Yes, we were in the Alps and most of us lived in valleys, but St. Peter and Langweis was surrounded by mountain peaks, literally. On top of that, they were shadowed by their even bigger neighbor, Arosa.

Ah, I digressed.

Fortunately, even if they didn't want Toggenburg in the Compact and voted against John, there were enough approving votes that it wouldn't matter.

"You think the vote will pass?" John asked from my side while the rest of the representatives of the Compact walked into the meeting hall, provided by the Bishop of Chur.

"I believe it will pass in our favor," I replied more formally than I normally spoke with John. It was because I didn't want to appear too friendly lest some of the approving votes turn sour at the thought of a "subversive" element among them. As if it was they who made the Compact and not me. As if they did anything but reap the rewards of my work and knowledge.

I paused when I felt my right hand squeeze and looked at Isabella.

I smiled at her, thanking her silently for the reminder.

My growing … distaste for the smaller and non-contributing members of the Compact weighed on my mind and had done so since I began to really think about how I wanted the Compact to last. Isabella had been with me every step of the way, and just before we came to Chur, I proposed to her.

She now proudly wore a gold ring with a 3-carat round brilliant cut spinel ruby set on top of it. By twenty-first-century standards, the ring itself would be worth around twenty-thousand dollars at a minimum. In my opinion, however, the ring was worth far less than the person who wore it.

John looked uncomfortable at our eye-fucking. Deal with it, boy.

I cleared my throat and waited for the rest of the representatives to seat themselves. John was here as the candidate himself, I represented Fluelaberg, Kraft, who I haven't seen in some time, was here as Davos's representative, and Isabella was an outside observer. Some villages and towns sent their mayor or chief while others sent relatives of the said leaders.

Or in the rare case of Klosters, a merchant.

I knew that Klosters had been getting in cahoots with a Bavarian merchant looking to set up a regular trade route between us and the Duchy of Lower Bavaria, specifically the city of Ingolstadt, the seat of the Duchy.

… Well, even if the merchant "abused" his seat and voted against John and I, I still had my vote, Kraft's, the bishop's, Maienfeld's, and Schiers'. Those were enough for the majority.

Once everyone was seated and talking with each other, the bishop stood up; he had been given the honor of being the head of today's meeting.

"Welcome to Prince-Bishopric of Chur," he began with an emphasis on his secular title. The clean-shaven and somewhat elderly bishop looked around as the talks quieted and everyone focused on him. If he had a bushy beard, then it would have gone great with the winter fox coat he was wearing but alas, it was a missed opportunity. "Today, we gather here, the third meeting of its kind, to decide the fate of the Compact. A request had been made by Count John the First of Toggenburg to join in on the Compact's military and economic alliance." Murmurs broke out briefly. "Count John, please stand up and make your case."

I gave John a nod, and the fifteen-year-old stood up to face a dozen people who were all at least two decades older than him.

"Greetings, representatives of the Compact. I am Count John the First of Toggenburg. Until very recently, I spent my time as a ward of Hans of Fluelaberg."

I nodded. It was a known fact but I was conveying that he was and remained my ward as John conveyed. The representatives all saw me nod, and this gave John a degree of trustworthiness. If I, the founder of the Compact, trusted John to speak the truth and remain silent as he spoke, then he must be speaking the truth.

"I am envious."

Oh?

"I have seen almost all of the Compact from my foster father's side, and I found myself envious of the works you have created." Then he pointed north. "The road that connects Chur, Maienfeld, Schiers, Klosters, Davos and finally, Fluelaberg. You have created a road that may not be a one-to-one match for the Ancient Roman Road, but it is still nonetheless an achievement you carried out in under five years! That … is a show of your character!"

Ah, he was looking to butter them up before moving in for the kill.

"But it is a road that I often saw was unguarded."

There we go.

I looked around and noted more than half of the representatives nodding along.

"And while I am aware that the Compact relies heavily on Fluelaberg for its military matters, is that not too much for a single barony not even five years old? I have seen the people of Fluelaberg dedicate themselves not just to the craft but also to war. They go where their baron commands them. They train rigorously! They stand ready to defend themselves and their allies!" Then he thumped his chest. "I

"Remember, John," I told him when we first discussed how we would convince others to let John join us. "Commoners do not have the same goal as the nobility. Sure, prosperity is the common goal of all but the path are different."

"How different could they be?"

"Honor is not a big issue among peasants as it is between the nobility. When you need to persuade the commoners like myself, you either do it through money or military might."

"You want me to threaten them?!"

SMACK.

"Ow."

"No, you idiot. You tell them that you will guard their west. Your lands extend into the Walenstadt, right? Well, tell them that you will make sure Walenstadt will be the gate you will guard over."

"... You're right. Walenstadt is part of my land. Father supposedly neglected it, according to mother…"

"There you go. Not only do you get to improve your land but you also do as a lord should: protecting the commoners around you."

"Walenstadt has been left in disrepair for some time. I intend to give it the attention it needs and develop it into a proper point of protection for the Compact's western border."

This time, the murmuring that broke out sounded much more in favor of John.

---

There was a small recess during which representatives split off to talk with John and each other.

What I did not expect was to be approached by the merchant representing Klosters.

"Baron Fluelaberg," he greeted me with a bow. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Thank you. And you are…?"

The merchant raised his head back up. Covered with a brown cloak on top and a deep blue shirt underneath, this man subtly displayed wealth while covering it up in normal attire. That blue shirt, for example, was made with a few cans of the dye I made after I dyed Isabella's dress.

The man smiled, making the corners of his lips rise and the skin around them fold lightly. "I am Ernst of Memmingen."

Memmingen? The Free Imperial City?

"What can I do for a merchant from the Free Imperial City?" I asked and the merchant smirked.

"I see that you are educated as they say."

I waved him off. "My father happened to have been hired by the city when it was vying for independence from the House of Welf." He really was, though he didn't tell me, a child of three, about the details; I just happened to remember him telling Mom about how shit the garrison job was.

"I see," he hummed before he reached into his cloak and pulled out an envelope. "A message from the Lord Mayor of Memmingen to Baron Hans von Fluelaberg."

Raising an eyebrow, I took the envelope, tore it open, and unfolded the letter.

My face contorted little by little as I read down the lines.

And then, for certainty's sake, I read it again.

Then I read it again with bubbling wrath.

After the third read, I gently and neatly folded it up and stowed it away in my pants pocket. I looked up and cleared my throat, ready to thank Mr. Ernst. What I saw instead was a man holding his ground despite sweating. His pale face contrasted with his previously dark peach tone. Why was he…?

[Ping! Would you like to keep [Intimidation] up? There are no targets.]

Oh. That's why.

I hastily shut it down and smiled at the still-shivering man.

"Herr Ernst," I called him and he somewhat shook out of his stupor. "The Free Imperial City of Memmingen has proved itself to be … a friend. I am very willing to shower my friend with gifts, so please come visit Fluelaberg before you return to Memmingen."

"O-Of course," he muttered.

"Until next time then, Herr Ernst."

-VB-

To Baron Hans von Fluelaberg,

I am Albert von Lorsmich, and I write to you as the Lord Mayor of Memmingnen. Though you may not know this, you have become a known figure in the Eastern Swabian lands as a man of means, innovation, and military might. How else could a mere commoner rise to the ranks of a baron without such traits?

However, troubles have been brewing outside of your lands. I have been contacted a number of times by merchants elsewhere about the flow of trade goods coming from your lands, and have noted that many times have caravans ladden with your wares been struck by bandits while peddlers were killed for the same reason.

What I noticed, however, was that peddlers and caravans bearing the sigil of the Merchant Guilds of Munich have not been touched not once while my own city's caravans have been struck numerous times in the past year.

It has become clear to me that something sinister is afoot, and I have taken it upon myself to investigate these matters because while they may be outside of your concern, these ruffians are still targeting good men with your goods. What I have discovered is a conspiracy to bring ruin to your lands.

The guilds of Munich have been wary of you, Lord Hans. They saw your rise as an oddity but the sudden flow of exotic goods to be a threat to their way of life. They have poured money and men to strangle the trade in the Duchy of Upper Bavaria, and the duke himself has done little to change this.

I fear, milord, that the Duke of Upper Bavaria may be in on this conspiracy to see your downfall. I send this letter to you as the man in charge of Memmingen, someone in a position like yours: threatened by the greedy dukes.

Please, be careful. The dukes of Upper Bavaria have extensive connections and wealth, and should they decide to bring you down in full, there may be little you can do to stop them.

Signed,

Albert von Lorsmich

Lord Mayor of Memmingnen

Baron of Steinheim

House of Lorsmich

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 64

-VB-

The vote came to pass, and John of Toggenburg was admitted into the Compact as a new member, and declared the "Guardian of the West," a reminder of what he spoke about in his persuasive speech and what his defined role within the Compact was.

John didn't particularly mind. In fact, he considered it an honor to be considered a secular equal to the Prince-Bishop of Chur Siegfried because that mattered.

We also kind of did away with the numbering thing. At this point, we were Compact of the Ten, but constantly having to change it was irritating a few people. It wasn't a big deal for most of us so we just did away with the convention in favor of simply calling ourselves "The Compact."

Beyond that, we also held several more votes as people brought forth proposals. The more confined members wanted some more benefits, the trade-centric ones wanted more access and tariffs, so on and so on.

So what should have been a weekend meeting ended up being a week-long meeting.

During which John was allowed to sit as a member, we voted on and passed some of the measures. The most critical of these were the [Defense Act of 1302], [Militia Act of 1302], and [Trade Act of 1302].

The Defense Act of 1302 laid out the responsibilities and duties of citizens and the individual member states of the Compact. Primarily, this was the act in defense of thy neighbor clause in the Defense Act. Essentially, if one acted in the defense of his neighbor against a violent perpetrator in the act of violence, then many crimes could be forgiven depending on the circumstances. This was an accepted fact across the world, of course, but by writing it down as a law, it gave legal protection where there were none before.

The Militia Act of 1302 essentially demanded that each member state of the Compact maintain an active militia. It also gave militia members the right to own steel armor, if they could get their hands on it.

The Trade Act of 1302 made it so that there was no tariff between the member states for more common goods like fabric, food, and wool; this was to satisfy the smaller members that have taken up the position of being the main fabric producers in our region as other members, like Davos, shifted away from their own fabric production (something which all villages did as a rule of thumb). It placed tariffs on "luxury goods" like alcohol coming into the Compact. This was in part to encourage our own members to make our own booze because imported alcohol was always much more expensive.

I hoped that all of these new laws would prove beneficial for the Compact, because I wasn't sure how well I would do if I had to start caring about the economic aspect of the whole Compact.

With these laws laid out, the "conference" of 1302 came to an end. While everyone went on their own ways, I went with John back to his homeland to see how I could help him develop his county into something more.

-VB-

Interludes

---

Isabella, Fiance of Hans

Perhaps it was because he was once a commoner himself that he went so far out of his way to give concessions to the commoner members of the Compact that contributed very little to its overall state.

Personally, Isabella thought that Hans was being too generous to the point of being weak. She needed to break this habit of his. He could not be seen being too generous or everyone will try to take advantage of it like they already have.

How could she go about doing that? She definitely needed to nag him about it but not so much that he starts ignoring her whenever she brings it up. It had to be impactful, too.

"... Alleria."

Her handmaiden-friend stepped up. Like the perfect servant, she had been working in the shadows ever since Isabella arrived here at the Compact.

"Yes, milady?"

"I need you to find any discrepancies in Castel, St. Peter, and Schiers."

"Ah, the three that tried their best to get more than what they were worth?"

"Yes. Hans is unlikely to act on anything without evidence, so I need evidence."

"... Shall I make them?"

"No. As much as they irritate me for bothering Hans for their insufficiencies, I am not interested in making false evidence to punish them. When Hans comes down on them, I want them to suffer for what they did."

"Of course, milady. You are generous."

"... No, I am just and fair."

Alleria snorted with a smile. "Like your father?"

It was her turn to snort. "Father is not fair at all! He cheats at games!"

The two chatted like that even as Alleria signaled one of the House Guards to complete something.

-VB-

Leon

(The former nightsoil farmer turned mine manager)

(At this rate, he will forever be introduced as such)

It was weird.

… Many things were weird up here in Fluelaberg, but it was even weirder than usual.

Leon watched as miners, some of whom looked more like sticks when they first started mining, now looked like warriors with how tough they looked. Their thick, muscular arms swung iron pickaxes with expertise and practice, chipping away at the rocks not in small pebbles but fistfuls of rocks that other miners picked up and hauled out. What rocks they could not crack open with their pickaxes, they used the "wedging" technique that the baron taught them to crack them open.

And … he also looked like them.

He looked down at his arms, body, and legs.

He wasn't the thin Leon from before, and his married life had only changed him even more.

"... You look like you like more of what you see underneath you than in front of you."

He looked up and saw his wife, Elenna, standing by the doorway.

"No, I'm just … marveling at how much I have changed since I came here."

Elenna continued to look at him before snorting. "You look better than before."

"Before?"

"When we got married. You looked thinner then."

"I did," he hummed. "But then again, all we do is eat, work until we feel tired, rest, eat, work, rest, eat, and sleep."

"Yes, just like pigs."

"What?! What did I do to get compared to pigs?"

"Because you are delicious as you look."

He blinked. Wait, did he hear that correctly?

"Wait, what?"

Elenna snorted, walked up to him, gave him a peck on the cheeks, slapped his shoulder, and walked out with the laundry.

"... huh?"

-VB-

Alvia

They called her a mistress, these days. Like a master of a guild.

It wasn't because the men around her liked calling her their mistress or guildmistress and guildmaster but rather because none could deny that she made some of the best gem cuts on this side of the Alps.

So much so, in fact, that she now had a young man around her age kneeling in front of the fort's inner gate.

However, she wasn't interested in taking apprentices. She was busy enough as it was. She did not have time for other people. Her brother and Hans could use all of her time, sure, but some random person from Venice? No.

But there was another reason why.

"Paolo, she doesn't care," a man next to the kneeling man said. "Let's go. You've wasted enough time as it is. We've been here for a full month already!"

"I am determined to see this through."

They spoke in North Italian, and Alvia understood what they were saying because she had been living and working under Hans. She knew, more than most in fact, that this was something that occurred because of Hans. Something about him, something unnatural - supernatural - and widespread, affected many people who learned even one thing from him and continued to work for him. Once they worked with him, they became better at learning.

It was why she was determined to not accept apprentices, even if it would make her life so much easier. What would happen to those apprentices once they began to get much better? By the very nature of guilds and master-apprentice relationships, they would eventually leave Fluelaberg. They would take Fluelaberg's knowledge and advancements with them to beyond its borders.

And that knowledge, knowledge had been slowly but surely been terrifying her with their practical implications, was what kept Fluelaberg strong right now. What was knowledge but how to make pigments from seemingly random weed flowers? What was knowledge if not how to make porcelain from materials no one ever thought of to use? What was knowledge if not an untouchable substance that could not be kept hidden once shared?

Alvia of Davos, she had come to fear, had become a liability for her beloved and not the pillar she hoped to be. It was a blessing as much as it was a curse.

People from Hamburg and Lubeck had come by after looking at her gems … and Venice saw her first forays into painting, which she stupidly sold at cost to a wandering peddler who took a liking to her two-palm-sized illustration of the Christ (with Hans' input).

… But wasn't there an easy solution to that? Just make any apprentice stay in Fluelaberg.

She thought about it.

She supposed that … it would be easier to have someone else mix the new oil paint colors Hans thought up.

She glanced at Paolo through her window on the second story within the fort.

And someone with dedication like that was sure to be useful not just to her but also to Hans.

-VB-

Rudolf I, Duke of Upper Bavaria

"What?"

"The Mayor of Memmingen implicated you and the guildmasters in a plot against the baron," his spymaster sighed as he handed him a copy of the letter. "The merchant who went to Compact was more than happy to sell a copy of the letter to us for a hundred guelders."

"A HUNDRED GUELDERS?!"

That was enough money to buy a dozen subpar horses but still a dozen horses!

"Why-?!"

"I felt that it was important enough," he replied. "And it was. There is enough information in that letter that should the baron present it to the emperor, we might suffer an imperial intervention."

That was the last straw that broke the horse's back.

"FUCK FUCK FUCKING MERCHANT FUCKING GUILDS -!" he roared as he tossed his table to the side. The solid wooden table tumbled and cracked against the stone floor and walls, sending all of the papers and paperweights on top of it flying everywhere. "Get me those goddamn guildmasters! I want their goddamn heads!"

After stewing in his anger for half a day, he finally got enough sense to right his table, gather his paper, quills, and paperweights, and start writing a letter. This one would go to the baron with the heads of the guildmasters involved in this mess. A roundabout apology for this shitfest his merchants caused and a warning to not escalate the issue.

-VB-

Louis, Duke of Upper Bavaria

"The Count of Toggenburg joined the Compact?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes, milord," his spymaster bowed. "It seems that we have been mistaken in assuming that the baron kept the boy count as a ward to prevent another war, perhaps one with the Habsburgs. Instead, he has used the chance to sway the boy count to his cause, and now with his signature, the County of Toggenburg is legally bound to the Compact."

Louis hummed.

Whether or not the count's signature would hold in the imperial court was not something he was interested in. What he was seeing with this was that the Compact, a collection of nothing but small villages, one baron, and one bishop, was now something he had to watch on more carefully.

What he thought was a useful patsy in his upcoming spat with his older brother was starting to look more like a dog that might bite his hand if he reached in.

"Pause all operations we have ongoing against the baron," he immediately decided. While it would have been great to see his older brother get the blame and suffer the baron's presence, he wasn't so sure about it anymore. See, the plan had been to hurt the future baroness, get the baron angry, direct his anger to his older brother, let them fight it out, and then he would swoop in to settle the issue. He would then use the issue as Rudolf's incompetence to kick him out of his title.

And if they discovered he had ordered it done…

Well, he wasn't sure if he liked the rumors he heard about the "Count Killer."

Now… he wasn't sure.

If the baron was a peasant with brute force, then the scheme would have worked well enough even with his allies.

If the baron thought years ahead and planned accordingly, then he needed to be treated as a threat.

A threat with enough reach to affect his lands.

"I should have moved faster," he grunted. "What are our options?"

"... we can try to bribe the malcontent within their ranks," the spymaster suggested. "I'm sure we can find at least a few of village chiefs willing to provide some more critical information we have been unable to get so far."

"And we didn't do this before… why?"

The spymaster raised an eyebrow.

"My lord, you did not see the reason to and told me to not waste manpower and money."

Louis facepalmed. Right, right. He'd done that, and it was a mistake on his part. He would have to rectify it, but how could he do so?

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in."

One of the "servants" walked in and bowed to them both before whispering into his spymaster's ears. His councilor dismissed the man and turned to him with a smile.

"Well, it seems that we have a luck break, my lord. Duke Rudolf is executing the guildmasters and sending their heads to the baron with a letter."

Louis blinked before grinning.

"Intercept it and just … burn it," he replied with a fat grin on his face. "Make it so that the good baron just happens to 'ignore' a duke's words."

"Your will be done," the spymaster bowed and left.

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 65

-VB-

Count John von Toggenburg

As the caravan made its way toward his home, John felt … odd.

This would be the first time he would be going back home in years, and he couldn't help but feel complicated.

He would be returning home, after all, with the man who burned his father to death. He still fondly remembered his father, and if it hadn't been for the Unruly Year, then he might even be practicing his swordsmanship with his father today.

But things changed, and this was going to be the big one.

… personally, he feared what kind of reaction he would get from his mother and his siblings, but he knew more than they did that this was the way forward for the county and his family.

The trade potential alone would propel them to new heights. He knew his county and house were already benefitting from their close proximity to the Compact. The town of Walenstadt grew recently in size and wealth as a result of merchants seeking easy and faster travel via boats rather than zigzagging around the lake and the mountains to its north and south. He also knew that most of those merchants would eventually head to Zurich, and his county sat right in between Zurich and the Compact.

He didn't just decide to join the Compact due to his admittedly cozy relationship with his "older brother." He saw wealth and potential that he could gain… if he simply laid down his pride as an independent lord.

And that … that would be the thing that might get the rest of his family to rebel against him years down the line. For a lord to lay down their independence was one of the worst things they can do, especially if they did so without an overwhelming disadvantage. However, John did not want to stand in the way of the Compact.

The things he'd heard and seen were not limited to Hans alone. He saw the political shift coming to the Alps. Isabella was at the center of that. She saw how the power mongers were growing underneath Hans's notice. Saw that while Hans may be a good man, there were those underneath him that were no different from his father and the other nobles of the realm.

Peasants, they may be, but Hans gave them a taste of wealth and prosperity. They became wealthy. They became skilled. They became powerful.

They would kill to keep it that way.

And if he didn't join the Compact?

Well, his land was right between the richer heartlands of Swabia! Hans might not want to fight him, but others might decide that they could take him on without Hans. With the wealth they might accumulate, this just might work.

"Milord!"

John looked over to Hans, and saw a ranger hurrying up to him. There was a quick exchange of words, and Hans looked troubled.

He got his horse to trot over to Hans. "What is it?"

Hans looked at him and hummed. "There may be an ambush ahead."

John froze.

An ambush? Here within the Compact's own lands?

"How many?" he asked quietly.

"Unknown but within our capability to defeat easily."

'You mean your capabilities,' John thought. "... We should turn the ambush on them. We can't let someone who set up an ambush here get away."

"I agree," Hans replied with a nod. "Here's what we'll do..."

-VB-

Isabella von Gorizia

She stared coolly at the soldiers wearing odd cloaks covered in twigs and leaves as they, she, Hans, and Count John traveled with their entourage toward his homeland.

They were not men-at-arms or knights. They are what Hans called "rangers." She saw them early in their training and thought them to be nothing more than her beloved's fancy with military innovation before he moved back to more of his beneficial economic reforms.

After hearing about what they did to men-at-arms and knights, she wasn't so sure anymore.

It was just another innovation that would upset the societal balance, but unlike other changes, these rangers actually upset her. It was one thing for a commoner to become an administrator. It was another for a commoner to become a specialized men-at-arms-killing soldier.

They … were perfect for Hans. Hans would have been awkward with regular knights and men-at-arms, so he went and created his own order of trained soldiers that would make knights have nightmares about forests and mountains.

Because right now, she saw a dozen rangers but heard from Hans that there were three dozen rangers traveling with them.

There were two dozen rangers she couldn't see.

'And you can't fight what you can't see,' she thought.

It was also a draw that made the local peasantry seek Hans out more because of the benefits of being a ranger. Hans granted all rangers and their direct families a flat tax reduction.

She thought it was ridiculous, but Hans wouldn't budge.

'I take care of those who fight for me.'

He may not have meant for those words to reach his men but they did, and they were fiercely loyal to him for those words and actions.

It was ridiculous how easily Hans swayed people to him, her included. Wasn't that exactly how she fell in love with him? He put himself before a cart to save her life, and showed off a body of delicious muscles.

She cleared her throat, which drew Hans's attention.

"Dry throat?" he asked her, and she nodded. He reached to his back inside his cloak and pulled out a metal "bottle." She took it and drank from it. It didn't taste like much, but that was a benefit to whatever magic he'd done to the metals before they were fashioned into these metal vessels. These metal vessels were another item that he was letting the merchants buy and sell at his markets.

Of course, he even had "luxury" versions of the bottles that were expensive but something a dullard without a sense of fashion might still buy.

Regardless of how expensive or not expensive something was, their advantage was how durable they were compared to, say, a gourd, glass bottles, or a leather pouch. It just hadn't been done before because of how expensive metals were in general.

She thought it was a stupid idea at first until he showed her his ledger about just how much metals were coming in and out of his furnaces. While those bottles would still be sold for the equivalent of a commoner's monthly wage, commoners still bought them because the water inside these metal bottles would never rot as it might in a leather pouch or a gourd.

Something about copper alloy?

Because she was so focused on thinking, she didn't hear the hiss coming for her nor how quickly Hans deflected it.

"Eh?"

She looked to her left, where that sudden burst of motion had caught her attention now.

Her eyes widened as she saw men charging out of the forests surrounding the dirt road.

'Ambush!'

And then she heard another hiss, and this time, knowing what it was, she couldn't help but flinch.

-VB-

A/N: is this Stupid #5 or #8?