The imdiate threat of blood and fire had been broken, but the quiet that followed was heavy with new dangers.
Konrad had secured his iron and his spies, and his place within his own house was now absolute.
He sat at the head of the great table in the hall - the seat his father had held before his death. The iron ring of the von Frundsberg Lordship rested on his finger.
"The Emperor’s n have ridden back to Nuremberg, my Lord." Captain Eckhard stood before the table, his face relaxed for the first ti in weeks. "When their Inquisitor found the heavy swords of Bavaria holding our borders, and his own Württemberg knights starving, he saw reason. They took our bargains and the Fugger silver... For now."
"They took the only path left to them, Captain," Konrad corrected, "The Inquisition cannot burn a forge that the Fugger rchants and the Duchy of Bavaria rely upon for their swords... It is a simple weighing of scales."
"It is a dangerous scale, Lord Konrad," Lady Katarina noted, stepping into the hall. "You speak of the Holy Roman Empire as a rchant speaks of wool."
Konrad finally looked up, "The old ways of holding these lands died with my father... Lothar’s treason showed the folly of trusting greedy kin, and our swift victories have proven that only iron can hold this valley. There will be no more councils of frightened elders."
"Your word is absolute law, my Lord." Eckhard bowed his head deeply.
Konrad nodded.
The grip on his own house was complete. There were no regents, no uncles, no greedy kin left to challenge him... He was the sole master of the board.
The next morning, Konrad turned his eye back to his true strength: his n.
He walked down to the forges. He had used the Fugger silver to clothe and arm his watch anew. The weavers, fed by the new flax fields, had made matched coats. The n no longer wore ragged peasant wool.
They wore strong, heavy garnts - dark gray breeches and tunics, patched with leather at the joints.
It was not the slashed, bright silk of the proud Landsknecht; it was plain, strong cloth made for the bloody work of war.
The true marvel, however, was their steel!
Master Dieter had perfected the swift forging of plain half-plate. The captains and chosen marksn wore blackened steel breastplates and strong, open helms. It was not the gilded, fitted plate of a highborn knight; it was plain, alike, and deadly strong against common blades.
Konrad himself wore a cunning make of this armor.
His breastplate was thicker, forged of the finest steel Dieter could yield, and his helm bore a strong, raised comb.
He watched as Captain Eckhard drilled the n.
The watch had grown to near three hundred swords, broken into steady lines of fire. They drilled the swift loading of the new grooved long-arms, their movents precise and unbroken, a testant to Konrad’s cold, hard training.
From the edge of the field, Lady Isolde watched the drills. Her eyes were fixed on Konrad.
She had built the spy rings he asked for, and she drank in her role as his chief whisperer.
She was so fixed upon Konrad’s commanding shape that she did not hear Lady Katarina walking from the keep.
Katarina stopped a few paces away, her brown eyes judging the forr Duchess of Württemberg.
Katarina was a woman of cold reason, and she saw the dangerous fire in Isolde’s gaze.
"You watch him as if he were a god, Lady Isolde." Katarina remarked.
"..." Isolde started, turning quickly to face the Bavarian Duchess. She swiftly smoothed her face into a mask of ek service, but the fierce light in her eyes burned on.
"He is the maker of a new age, Lady Katarina," Isolde replied, her voice steady. "I am rely learning the shape of it."
Katarina frowned, stepping closer. "Do not mistake cunning for divinity. Konrad is a master of engines, but his heart is cold iron. He weighs n’s lives like coins. If you forget that, you will find yourself cast aside the mont your worth is spent."
Isolde’s eyes narrowed, a flash of proud anger breaking her ek mask.
She hated the thought that her place was fleeting... She had earned her standing through her whispered secrets, and she ant to hold it forever.
"I know his ways well, Lady Katarina," Isolde countered smoothly, a dangerous edge to her voice. "I have proven my worth. I am not a tool he will cast away."
She took a slow step closer to the Bavarian Duchess, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "And I warn you not to ddle with the order he has built here... Your pact is a matter of trade. My fealty is absolute."
Katarina’s face hardened. She knew a hound guarding its bone when she saw one. Isolde was marking her ground, seeking to rule Konrad’s inner circle.
"Fealty born of fear is a brittle thing, Isolde," Katarina warned, "And madness is a dangerous flaw. Do not think to command the Bavarian pact."
Isolde offered a tight smile before turning her eyes back to the field, shutting Katarina out entirely.
That evening, to bind the loyalty of the swollen watch, Konrad ordered a feast for the n.
He bade the kitchens yield a heavy bounty - thick stews, roasted ats, and barrels of strong ale.
The village square, usually quiet in the dark, was loud with the cheer of three hundred ard n! They were no longer fearful serfs; they were a hardened, sworn host that had broken a Swabian vanguard and held their lands against the Inquisition.
Konrad stood at the edge of the square, watching the cheer. He raised a iron cup, the noise in the square dying at once as the n turned to their lord.
"The threats to our borders are broken." Konrad stated, "Your bearing in the recent fights was true and steadfast. You held the lines, and the slaughter was absolute."
It was no lordly speech of honor and glory, but the n knew the truth of his words... They drew breath today because of his cunning and his iron.
"The shape of the realm is breaking," Konrad went on, "Hold your lines. Perfect your loading. The Emperor’s n will try us again, and when they do, we will show them the absolute ruin of our fire."
He raised his cup higher. "To the swift death we deal."
"To Lord Konrad!!" Captain Eckhard roared, raising his own cup.
The square erupted in a deafening cheer. A sound of fierce, unbroken fealty that echoed off the stone walls.
Konrad left the square before the ale took hold of the n, returning to the quiet reason of his study.
The door was slightly ajar when he arrived. He pushed it open, his hand moving by habit to the hilt of his short sword.
Lady Isolde waited for him, standing near his desk.
She wore no simple, dark gown. She was dressed in a finely woven silk shift that hid very little.
"I did not summon you, Lady Isolde." Konrad noted.
Isolde moved toward him, her eyes wide and filled with a fierce fire.
The commanding might he had shown in the square had stirred a deep madness within her, breaking her usual ek obedience.
"I have served well with my whispered secrets, my Lord," Isolde breathed, stopping just inches from him. "I seek... a judgnt of my worth."
The tangled madness of her fealty was a danger, but it also bound her to him utterly. He judged that a swift, contained yielding to her hunger was the surest way to hold her on her leash.
He spoke no word.
He simply reached out and took her wrist, his grip hard and wholly devoid of softness, leading her toward the inner rooms.
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