Swiss Arms - Chapter 107

Swiss Arms

Chapter 107

-VB-

Isabella von Fluelaberg nee Gorizia

Consort-Baroness of Fluelaberg

When her husband came back home, he did so as a triumphant man who’d done much for himself and his people.

Isabella looked at the paper with the wax insignias of two lords and a mayor, the two nobles approving the transaction and the lord mayor of a free imperial city as a witness.

It was a territory that was about half the size of her father’s County of Gorizia, but more importantly, it opened up a direct pathway from the heart of the Compact to Bodensee and its trade cities like Konstanz, Lindau, and Uberlingen without needing to pass by territories of lords and bishops who may not be friends of the Compact.

This also made Chur important as the geographical center of the Compact.

“… You don’t look like a noble who just tripled his personal territory, husband,” she remarked as she looked up from the paper to look at Hans, who was picking away at his peas, pork chop, and salad.

Hans looked up, blinked, and then laughed nervously. “Sorry, sorry. Just a bit distracted.”

“And what could possibly distract you from this?” she asked as she waved his copy of the treaty.

He paused. “Well, I just remembered something one of my spies told me.”

She stared at him. “You have spies?”

Hans nodded. “It concerns the Kingdom of Bohemia.”

Isabella stared at him. “When did you even get a spy up there?” she asked incredulously.

The Kingdom of Bohemia – sometimes called the Electorate of Bohemia – was arguably the most powerful state in all of the empire. The current emperor had to tiptoe around them when eastern affairs were concerned because they were a kingdom who had claims not just to the Kingdom of Hungary but also the Kingdom of Poland. And as one of the electors of the empire, they wielded significant power as to who would become the next emperor.

“One of the courtiers that my spy talks to has mentioned how the current king of Bohemia is looking for alliances.”

“… But why?” she asked.

“The Hungarian Succession.”

She didn’t know much about it at all.

“Can you explain to me? I don’t know anything about that.”

He nodded. “The former king of Hungary died last year. Or was it two years ago? His death has created a succession crisis due to a lack of a male heir. Currently, there are three potential claimants. One of them is the current king and his princely son of Bohemia, Wenceslaus II and III.”

“And who are the others?”

“One of them is a Wittelbachs. Not a relative of our dear Duke Louis of Upper Bavaria but a member of Lower Bavarian Wittelbachs. He has the weakest claim.”

“And the last?”

“Charles of Anjou, grandson of the current King of Naples.”

Her eyes widened.

“It’s clear what they want to do,” Hans hummed. “The Bohemian king wants to marry one of his daughters to your cousin Henry, but the oldest of them is still a decade and a half younger than Henry.”

“… does she look pretty?”

He stared at her before rolling her eyes. “I never saw her or her portrait so I wouldn’t know. Why?”

“Well, if Henry is finally going to get married, then I’d want a girl for him who’s good for him!” she told him evne though it was the most obvious thing. “Is she a good person?”

“Again, not the kind of stuff my spy tells me.”

She pouted. “Ugh. That’s a useless spy.”

He chuckled before he turned stoic. “You know what that means, though, right?”

She nodded with a frown. “Yes. Henry might become involved in a war.”

He nodded. “I’m … a little concerned, but not overly so,” he pointed out. “If Henry wants to get involved in a war on behalf of the Bohemian king, then that’s his business. What I am worried about is how his decision will impact our coalition’s effort against the Wittelbachs.”

“…?” He smirked when he saw how confused she looked, which only made her feel combative. “What?!” she pouted.

“Nothing,” he hummed before he raised an hand and put it on her round stomach. “How long has it been?”

She smiled as she put her hands on top of his. “Five months now.”

He hummed.

“… Well?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at her.

“Keep talking,” she huffed.

“Sure,” he said after looking at her quizzically. “So. Henry. Obviously, any war he gets involved in will lead to an increase of commerce, and opportunistic merchants from neighboring states will come flooding in to make a profit for themselves. I am worried that this will result in a dilution of the debased coins.”

“And why is that bad?”

“You mean aside from the fact that those coins would find their way to us because we have luxuries everyone wants?”

“Yes, aside from that.”

Hans looked contemplative for a while. “It’ll mean our efforts to weaken Upper Bavaria will take longer, but I want to drag Duke Louis off of his seat of power before the end of the decade.”

She giggled. “You think you’re not ambitious, Hans, but you are a pretty ambitious man.”

“You think so?” he laughed.

If he, a man who gathered dukes, an empress, and powerful nobles to bring down another powerful duke, was not ambitious, then truly ambitious men must be monsters of greed.

-VB-

Gion

Prince-Bishop of Chur

“So he succeeded.”

“Your Grace?”

Gion looked up from the letter he received from Baron Fluelaberg, and looked at the monk serving him as his steward. The old man was someone who’s been serving the prince-bishop of Chur for a long time.

“It seems that Baron Fluelaberg managed to purchase the Rheital Balliwick from the Count of Heiligenberg,” he told him.

“Ah! It is a good news for the Compact, then? Should I prepare some gifts to congratulate the baron?”

Gion waved his hand. “No, don’t bother. He’s a capable man. I expected something like this from him.”

The steward raised an eyebrow. “Truly?”

“Well, he got me in this position, didn’t he?”

-VB-

Hartmann

New Count of Werdenberg

“… Well, shit.”

After his father died of heart attack this summer, Hartmann – or Hartmann III – had been running around like a headless chicken to get his land under his control. He was almost tempted to send letters to his uncles and ask them to come help him, but Uncle Hugo was a Knight Hospitallier and Uncle Harty was a canon in Bamberg.

And now, the people who surrounded his capital in Vaduz and laid siege to it against his father mere years ago had just purchased his cousin’s lands in Rheintal. This was bad.

To his north was his family’s traditional rival, the Montforts, and to … everywhere else was now part of the Compact, because he learned just now that Rheintal had been sold to the Count Killer.

He had no allies, his father was dead, and his uncles were unlikely to come help him in any sort of reasonable amount of time.

But even if his father fought the Compact, would they hold any enmity toward him?

… Would it be bad for him to join hands with the peasants?

He didn’t know.

His father had spared him the battlefield, because he never believed in the Count of Sargans and the Count of Misox-Sax and their claims. And where were they now? The count was dead, and his two sons were fighting over a meager piece of land that was barely twice the size of Vaduz itself. The Count of Sargans was dead at the hands of his only peer, the Count of Toggenburg.

… It can’t hurt to send a letter to see how the prince-bishop, toggenburg, and the baron feel about his inclusion, right? If it doesn’t come to a membership, then he would accept even a non-aggression pact.

-VB-

Anton Luhr

Munich, Duchy of Upper Bavaria

This was going to be a problem.

Even though he was willing to part with more of the Wittelsbach white pfennigs, he was having to pay more each month.

When the bloody grocers were asking nearly half as much more as common goods like lettuce used to be, he knew that this was going to be a problem.

His problem was not spending enough of it to not become his problem.

His problem was getting people to accept it from his guild while also keeping it out of his guild, because eventually, those coins made it back to him.

There was only so much of it he could spent outside without putting much of his assets and people out of commission for internal affairs.

In fact, if the situation continued to escalate, then he might just stop accepting the Wittelsbach white pfennigs… if they were white pfennigs.

Sitting at his office desk, he looked down at the pile of supposedly white pfennigs that his people accepted last week. He was sorely tempted to have them melted down to see if they were at least worth the silver they were minted out of.

… But then again, there was so many of them in circulation that it didn’t really matter, did it?

“Samuel, get in here!”