Lady Isolde had cast aside her forr life as the proud Duchess of Württemberg.
In its place, she had forged herself into the mastermind of the von Frundsberg secret network.
She held the core belief that whispered tidings were a treasure far more lethal than any pistol, provided they were wielded like a blade.
Isolde divided the Swabian Circle into strict districts, setting up a rigid chain of command.
She bought a vast ring of inforrs - disgruntled rchants, underpaid rcenaries, and poor clergy - using Fugger silver to buy their tongues. These n reported to local captains, who then sent ciphered letters by swift riders.
The great flood of Bavarian silver allowed Isolde to exploit the want and hardship in the nearby lands.
Now, Isolde was spreading her web into Nuremberg to watch the stalled Imperial Inquisition. She needed a captain in the city with total loyalty to her, away from Konrad’s gaze.
She broke the wax seal.
She was reading a deeply ciphered reply from her younger half-sister, a bastard daughter of the Württemberg line exiled to a minor convent in Franconia.
Weeks ago, Isolde had offered her a plain bargain: a wealth of silver and a place of power within the shadows, in exchange for commanding the Nuremberg spies. The reply confird the web was now woven.
She was in her first months with child. It was the absolute pledge of her lasting place within the von Frundsberg house.
By carrying Konrad’s lawful heir, she had stayed the hand of the Bavarians, who sought to wed Konrad to a foreign lady.
She stood and looked in the mirror.
She wore a severe gown of dark wool, dyed in the plain black and gray of Konrad’s n. She had cast off the bright silks and imported velvets of her old life.
Such cloth was frivolous and easily torn. Her new garb was stout, useful, and showed her total submission to Konrad’s warlike ways.
She eagerly awaited his praise of her plain dress.
Within the main hall of the keep, Konrad was setting the marching orders for the newly ford Schwarze Reiter.
Lady Katarina of Bavaria sat across from him, standing for her father’s great purse.
She was eating a small plate of candied almonds, brought at great cost from Venice.
Konrad watched her. The burden of the coming Imperial war was clearly dulling Katarina’s sharp mind.
"Your sweetats serve no purpose, Lady Katarina," Konrad stated, "Sugars give but a fleeting burst of vigor, leaving the mind clouded and weary. You are dulling your wits at a ti when our alliance needs your sharpest counsel."
"..." Katarina frowned, "...My father’s n wait upon your borders, and the Emperor threatens to cast our whole house from the Church. I will eat what sugar I please."
"Your humors matter not to the needs of your flesh," Konrad corrected. "I require your wits to remain clear. I shall fetch true sustenance to keep your strength."
Konrad stood and left the hall, walking straight to the pantries.
Under his rule, the old castle kitchens had been torn down.
In their place, Konrad had built a strict hall of rations. The slaughter of beasts was managed with a clockwork order.
As Konrad entered the butchery, the n at once fell silent, standing stiffly.
"The salting on these swine is lacking," Konrad told the head butcher, "Increase the asure of salt to halt the rot during the winter months. Give a proper cut of the cured pork and a flagon of strong ale."
The butcher quickly handed over a wooden platter of dense, salted pork and a flagon of dark Swabian ale. K
onrad took the rations without a word of thanks and returned to the hall.
He placed the platter before Katarina. "Eat this. The at and bread shall steady your nerves."
Katarina stared at the crude fare... then at Konrad’s face.
The strain of the past weeks finally broke her usual Bavarian pride. She took up the flagon and began to drink the dark ale in deep, swift gulps.
The Swabian ale was strongly brewed to keep the grain from spoiling over long seasons. Within a short ti, the strong spirits began to cloud Katarina’s wits.
A dark flush spread across her cheeks, and she lost her rigid, courtly posture.
She looked at Konrad, her eyes wide with a sudden fear.
"My father poured a fortune in silver into your forges, Konrad..." Katarina slurred slightly, "We defied the Imperial Diet for you. But you... you are a thing of iron. If the Swabian League offered you greater gain tomorrow, would you turn those new cannons against Munich?"
"..."
A common lord would have offered swift vows of honor, fealty, and eternal friendship to calm his greatest ally.
"If the Duchy of Bavaria ceases to be the greatest ally in coin and arms for our growth, then the pact shall be broken," Konrad stated, "If your father’s n block my wagons and routes, they shall be nad foes and t with shot and steel."
"You are a monster..." she whispered.
"You shall cease drinking and sleep to purge the spirits."
When Katarina failed to move, Konrad simply stood up.
He bore her to her chambers, dropped her unceremoniously onto her bed, and locked the door from the outside to ensure the lady was secured until she woke sober.
Konrad returned to his study to finish the marching orders for the newly ford Schwarze Reiter.
Shortly after midnight, the door opened.
Lady Isolde entered the room. She stood before his desk, proudly displaying her austere wool gown.
"The Nuremberg spy ring is paid and at work, my Lord," Isolde reported. "The Imperial magistrate guarding the Inquisition’s grain wagons has taken our silver. He will ruin their bread."
"The bargain is approved..." Konrad stated, noting the deed.
Isolde lingered, "I have cast aside the Württemberg silks, my Lord. I have chosen garnts for their wear and their fit with your warlike ways."
"The cloth is thick enough for the coming winter, it serves its purpose."" Konrad observed.
Isolde smiled slightly. She stepped to the desk, "The child must be tended to ensure the heir’s health,"
"The bearing of the child requires strict care," Konrad agreed, rising from his chair.
They walked to the bedchamber...
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