Captain Heinrich, having stared down the barrels of Konrad’s new weapons, had called a retreat.
Baron von Waldburg’s guard had marched back down the road in silence, taking Uncle Lothar with them.
Lothar, realizing his treason had failed and that he was surrounded by commoners holding wheel-lock pistols, had correctly guessed that exile was better than remaining within Konrad’s reach.
With the threat gone and the rot cut out, Konrad’s focus shifted to feeding his forges.
...
A month passed. The transition from spring to sumr brought hardship to the land.
Konrad put his house in order. He set a strict ti for the blast furnace, ensuring it ran day and night to prevent the stones from cracking under the changing heat.
The once-starving serfs were now a willing workforce, paid in silver and fed on a secure asure of pea-bread and mutton stew.
The reality of the Empire ant Konrad could not simply declare himself a great lord of iron.
If he forged raw iron or steel in vast amounts, the Swabian League or the Fugger bankers would seize his wealth. His survival depended on forging small, hidden goods of great worth.
He had struck a pact with a traveling rchant nad Vesper. Vesper was a quiet man who traded in rare wares for the Italian Wars.
Every fortnight, Vesper arrived with a guarded cart. He unloaded crates of raw sulfur, saltpeter, and true silver Batzens. In return, he loaded plain crates holding Master Dieter’s wheel-lock chanisms and a few dozen of the short pistols Konrad had designed for close fighting.
The estate’s vault, once empty, was slowly gathering a steady hoard of true coin.
Konrad’s health had also nded. The hard pace of his work, matched with heavy food, had finally burned away the lingering weakness of his fever.
He was no heavily muscled knight, but his body was lean, hardened by the heat of the forge and the daily toil he subjected himself to. He had cast aside his cane weeks ago.
It was a sweltering afternoon when the fragile peace of his new world was tested.
Konrad was standing near the river, watching the water wheel drive the trip hamr, when a mounted guard crested the hill.
There were a dozen riders wearing the polished breastplates and blue sashes of the Duchy of Bavaria.
In their center was a wealthy carriage, unfit for the muddy Swabian roads.
Bavaria was a powerful duchy to the east, set against the growing reach of the Swabian League. Yet, Konrad held no ties to them.
He wiped the grease from his hands with a scrap of linen and waited for the carriage to halt near the forge. The door swung open, and a young woman stepped out, aided by a Bavarian knight.
She was poised for her age, which Konrad guessed to be near sixteen. She wore a dark green dress that dragged in the mud, her dark hair braided beneath a cap. Her brown eyes imdiately locked onto Konrad.
She did not look disgusted by the smoke or the noise. She looked deeply curious.
"You are Lord Konrad von Frundsberg." she stated. It was not a question.
"I am," Konrad replied evenly, stepping forward. "And you are trespassing on sovereign Imperial land with a foreign guard. Identify yourself."
The knight beside her bristled, resting a hand on his sword, but the young woman raised a hand to stop him.
"I am Lady Katarina of the House of Wittelsbach." she announced, her chin held high.
The Wittelsbachs were the ruling blood of Bavaria. They were powerful, deeply tied to the scheming of the Imperial Diet, and held vast wealth. Why a Duke’s daughter was standing in his muddy village was a mystery.
"A long journey from Munich, Lady Katarina." Konrad observed, "State your business."
Katarina stared at him. She had expected the sickly, ruined Swabian lord she had read of in the spies’ letters.
"My business is a reckoning," Katarina stated boldly, stepping closer. "My father, the Duke, has noticed a strange shift in the southern trade roads. rchants with no stated loyalties are suddenly moving cunning wheel-lock chanisms toward the Italian border. The smithing is the sa, the numbers grow, and the source has been deliberately hidden."
She paused, her eyes scanning the smoking furnace and the guarded crates near the smithy.
"It took my father’s spymaster a month to trace the silver back to this valley. You are arming the Emperor’s enemies, Lord Konrad."
The discovery was troubling, but expected given the numbers traded.
"I am engaging in lawful trade within the borders of the Empire," Konrad corrected. "I sell ironwork to rchants. Where they ride is not my concern, nor is it a breach of Imperial law."
Katarina let out a short laugh. "Do not play the innocent rchant with . The Swabian League wants to crush my family’s reach. If they discover you are forging these weapons in their backyard, they will not parley. They will burn this entire valley to ash."
"They tried~" Konrad replied flatly. "They failed."
Katarina’s eyes widened slightly. She had heard whispers of Baron von Waldburg’s sudden retreat from this land, but she had assud it was from plague or a sudden peasant uprising.
"I did not co here to threaten you, Lord Konrad," Katarina said, "I ca here to secure a binding oath. Bavaria needs those weapons. We have the silver, we have the raw iron from the Alpine mines, and we have the power to shield you from the Swabian League."
Konrad weighed the offer. A direct pact with Bavaria was incredibly dangerous, but it offered a massive wealth of silver and iron. However, he refused to beco a re servant to a greater lord.
"A single master is a foolish path, Lady Katarina,"
"If I sell only to Bavaria, I rely entirely on your father’s shifting moods. The mont his desires change, my lands starve. I will not sign an exclusive oath."
Katarina frowned, clearly unaccustod to being told no. "Then what do you propose?"
"A balanced trade," Konrad replied instantly, having already ford the counter-offer.
"I will sell a set number of wheel-lock chanisms to Bavaria, at a fifth more in price to account for the danger of direct trade. In exchange, Bavaria will provide steady, cheap shipnts of good Alpine coal. We will conduct the exchange through Vesper, keeping our hands hidden."
Katarina stared at him. He was demanding a higher price and vital coal, while refusing to grant her family total rule over his works.
It was an arrogant demand from a minor lord, but the worth of the weapons was undeniable.
"You are a very strange nobleman, Lord Konrad," A slight, genuinely amused smile breaking through her serious deanor. "You bargain like a Fugger rchant and defend your borders like a warlord."
"I am simply finding the surest path to survive," Konrad replied, missing the complint.
"Very well~" Katarina agreed, extending a gloved hand. "The terms are accepted. My father will arrange the coal carts. See that the numbers are t, or the shield will be imdiately withdrawn."
Conrad did not kiss her hand as a courtesy, but rather shook it warmly.
"The numbers will be t." Konrad assured her.
As Katarina turned back toward her carriage, she paused, glancing back at the roaring trip hamr.
"One final question, Lord Konrad. How did a ruined Swabian lord suddenly divine the craft to forge the most complex weapons in Europe?"
Konrad looked at the young Duchess, his expression entirely devoid of lordly pride or mystical pretense.
"I divined nothing," Konrad stated truthfully. "I simply brought order to the chaos."
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