Swiss Arms

Swiss Arms

Chapter 120

-VB-

Emperor Albert von Habsburg

When his wife told him of the plan crafted by her and her allies in a lowly baron's court, he had been skeptical at first.

After all, what could a minor baron with a near infertile valley to call his fief do?

A lot, it turned out to be.

It started with gemstones and jewelry. Next, paper and fine china. Then a center of trade and manufacturing hub for all manners of goods. And finally, a network of information and "news" that traveled the fastest through it than any other route.

It was impractical anywhere else, of course, because no lord would allow something important as information to pass by their lands so quickly without them taking advantage of it first. However, the Compact was not a land of lords and peasants but of "equals."

Ha!

As if.

This "constitution" of the Compact that he had perused once may be set up in such a way that all participants were "equal," but realities of their world quickly changed that, didn't it? His informants, spies, and even passing merchants told stories of the riches of Fluelaberg, Chur, and maybe even Toggenburg. But everywhere else? Neglected, weak, and unchanged. Those weaker places depended on their betters for everything from the roads von Fluelaberg laid down to the trade network overtaking everything in importance.

Why, his wife told him about how her own cousin now depended on the wealth of a mere baron, if only to carry out their scheme.

Because a duke wasn't rich enough for the absurd plot they devised.

And what an absurd plot it had been…

But an absurd plot that worked was no longer absurd. He would admit that. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

(And maybe, he wanted to use it himself against the LowLands and the French who stood in his way.)

It also made him think about laws that he would need to pass in order to prevent such a thing from affecting his realms. Not the empire, of course, but just his and his house's realms, but that's for the future him to work on.

Right now, Elizabeth had received a letter from the baron.

"So?" he asked her in the privacy of this room that he used as his solar during his current stay in Aachen.

"It seems that they are already on the move," she hummed as she handed the letter over to him.

He took the letter and frowned.

"I don't think a receipt for money owed and goods transferred says anything. Is it in code?"

"It is. It's rather simple. The first number of each line corresponds to certain moves we all agreed upon, and each line of words denoted who. For example, we the Habsburgs are line two."

"... The first number there is 1."

"It means we don't need to move."

"And 2?"

"On standby."

"And 3."

"The one who takes action."

"So who are lines five, eight, and nine?"

"Fluealberg, Tyrol, and -." She blinked. "Wait, did you say nine?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, nine," he replied.

She frowned. "That would be the Bishop of Freising."

Albert blinked. "That handsome man?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? Everyone calls him the handsome man," he defend himself petulantly.

She rolled her eyes at one of his rare slip of the tongue, and leaned back into her chair. "Do you remember how I made a lot of promises on your behalf?"

"Yes. Tyrol wanted some more land into the Bavarian lands following the Inn River."

"Indeed, and Bishop Emicho wanted a written guarantee of his bishopric's independence against his own house. Which we gave."

He narrowed his eyes.

"I see." He remembered that. It had not been a significant request, but one that he would have to respond to, especially if the current scheme failed and Duke of Upper Bavaria went after the weakest collaborator first.

Because the weakest collaborator wasn't the baron of the Compact.

"Ugh," he grunted as he also leaned back. "I can't remember half of the things you told me."

"You're scheming too much to put our son Rudolf on the Bohemian throne," she chortled.

He snorted. "That I am. At least my useless nephew isn't begging for scraps anymore," he drawled. He took a deep breath in and let it out. "Alright. What did we promise the baron?"

"A small territory next to the Bodensee that is part of your Swabian lands. You agreed, though with a lot of grumbling."

He frowned, and then his eyes widened. "I remember now. That was the land that nephew John refused."

She hummed. "The foolish man who's achieved nothing in his life thought that we would give him a duchy or something," she sighed. "There are way too many spoiled men and women in our house, dear."

"Ugh, tell me about it." Then he paused. "You know… we made promises to each of the conspiracy members. I wonder what they have promised each other."

Elizabeth hummed. "Hmm… I can guess what Duke of Tyrol and Prince-Bishop of Freising wants."

-VB-

Henry of Tyrol

He looked at the letter in his hands before pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"What is it, Henry?"

He briefly considered not answering but he let go of his nose, opened his eyes, and looked to his new wife.

Yes, wife.

Duchess Anne Gorizia nee Premyslid was a beautiful girl. Despite being only fifteen years old, she had a figure approaching his cousin Isabella, but that didn't change the fact that she was young, which was also the reason why he hadn't bedded her yet.

Hell, if he thought she had been a grown woman and no one said otherwise, then he might have done just that.

She wasn't the most beautiful woman he ever saw, but that didn't change the fact that she still was pretty in her own way. Like a dark-haired beauty counterpart to his cousin's flaming red beauty.

"It's your brother," he told her. "He has … news from home."

"What could it be that you're like this?" she asked him as she sashayed up to him and sat down next to him on the sofa.

He tried not to look at her … figure. Didn't want her to think that the man she was sitting next to, who was older than her own father, was leering at her.

"It's your father, Anne," he began softly. There was no other way to go about it. "He's caught the white death."

She froze and paled.

"O-Oh," she muttered. She gulped and then closed her eyes. "D-Did he say when the funeral will be?" she asked quietly.

"He is holding it two months from now," he said as he handed her the letter. Even though it was addressed to him and not to his sister, she still deserved to know.

She held the letter with her trembling hands.

He waited for her, but even as he waited, his mind chugged on with adjustments he needed to make now.

In the letter, Vaclav III, the new King of Bohemia, asked him to come and help him with the governance of his kingdom. This meant, however, that he would have to put his participation in the anti-Upper Bavarian plot on hold just when the final phase and the war was coming to his doorstep.

He was … somewhat obligated to go and help the young king out. The boy-king, barely sixteen years old, had very little experience in being an actual king; his father, Vaclav II, had been more focused on gaining crowns and land for his dynasty than actually teaching his son how to rule.

Admittedly, that was because the late king was barely thirty-three years old himself when he died. Supposedly, the symptoms of white death had been seen only two months prior to his death. Where it took some people years and decades to succumb to it, Vaclav II's symptoms advanced rapidly and killed him in months.

So the young king Vaclav III was king without a guide and allies in court in the middle of a succession crisis against Hungarian nobles and claimants, while his ally by marriage ties, Henry himself, was also in the middle of his own work.

The situation was not ideal by any means.

So it was a good thing that he was currently staying in Innsbruck. He would need to send a letter to Hans immediately. It was a good thing that Hans set up a branch office of his letter couriers here in Innsbruck, wasn't it?

-VB-

Hans von Fluelaberg

As spring started to give away to summer, I began to receive a lot of letters from my secret allies and others who I didn't expect.

The latter was normal because I grew in power and wealth every day, and the former was a more recent thing.

The first letter I received came from Duke Henry. He was in a bit of a pickle. He'd gone to Bohemia for his wedding, come back, and then received a letter from his new brother-in-law that his father-in-law had just died. The young king was weak and isolated, and Henry had an obligation to help, never mind the fact that the king decided to make Henry a governor of some importance silver mine. However, Henry professed that he had a bigger interest in carving up the Upper Duchy of Bavaria instead, mostly to ensure that he could claim the entire Inn valley up to the city of Rosenheim that sat outside the valley in Bavarian lands. This would give him a city that he could use as his trade hub and its river shipping business.

This war would benefit him greatly but he couldn't ignore a king either, even if Henry wasn't underneath the Bohemian kings.

And it was because of all of that… that he was asking me to take control of his military on his behalf.

Yes, he was leaving me in charge of the levies, men-at-arms, and knights under him as the Duke of Carinthia, Carniola, and Count of Tyrol.

And asked Isabella to make sure I didn't take over his westernmost fief.

It made sense, though. He and Henry were … I was sure that I could call him a friend, even if there was a definite hierarchy and rank difference. But the difference felt a lot smaller when both of us knew that I already killed a bunch of counts and beat the shit out of another duke from a much more important noble house. Oh, and I was richer than him by far.

Yeah, hierarchy mattered, but between the two of us, it was a small deal.

He knew that I didn't have a desire to conquer the empire, so he was comfortable with temporarily handing over the reins while he went off to handle a much greater problem up north.

(And considering that Habsburgs were bound to be my enemies in their pursuit of subjugating the Swiss Alps, I rather liked the idea of having someone in my corner who had the Habsburgs territory in the east checked with his own alliance.)

The second letter I received came from the empress.

Yes, the empress. Elizabeth of Tyrol. That shrewd woman who took over the meeting of lords against Duke Louis of Upper Bavaria.

Her letter was a response to my letter, one informing her of our readiness, and she, in her letter, more or less gave us the royal family's secret blessing to curbstomp on their rival house.

I knew that this approval would come. Why wouldn't it? The Habsburgs could only grow more powerful if the Bavarian Wittelsbach grew weaker.

So this letter, while important, wasn't the most interesting of the letters I've received so far.

No, that achievement was found in the third letter.

It was from my dad, but on behalf of someone else. Or rather, he wrote the letter on behalf of the people of Uri.

They wanted to talk.