There was no bone of hers that hadn’t been rattled, no muscle spared from ag. However, she stood tall with a polite smile—as only roper for a dy. Those who o know her pain, knew; and those who didn’t, didn’t.
Around her was a grid of tents ao a particur pattern, behihe rgest such tent, albeit still o much bigger than a pce to sleep and wipe down, its only real luxury a table for writing with a modestly fortable chair. Not that she would call that a luxury, writing very much a y for her and her position.
It was far from a quiet camp. Not just soldiers, but wives and children apanied some, merts eager to sell luxuries not afforded by her, even women of the night. Although she had expected all of this from her reading and learning, it still struck quite the sight to actually see—this “campaign” different to her hurried marches of before.
However, that had tributed to her reasoning for the march. She wished to see the sight of the baggage train stretg back along the dirt roads, see how soldiers managed with their packs, how well they could assemble an anised camp day after day. Not to mention, it was ohing to know others would follow the march, ahing to see who and how many.
Some freshness lingered in the air from an early summer downpour the day before, apanied by the st of freshly baked bread. Horses neighed, men and children made what merry they could, the wind whistled, at times silent and other times a refreshing breeze.
The time now seemed right, so she walked over to the camp’s entrance.
There, her left haing on her sword’s hilt, the hills of the Alps lingered oher side, yet most of the sight was simply farmnd. Even the nearby town found itself obstructed by the rise and fall of the nd. A river, more heard than seen, hid amongst a curved line of greehat cut through the fields of wheat—and maize. Far from the city of Venice where this basin of grain flowed to, it seemed to her some farmers had turo the exotic grain, selling io the locals and travelling merts who needed feed for their animals.
The flow of goods followed a strange geography which was almost unknown, not because it was not known, but for ck of a reason to know it. Cities were like pits where the goods flowed down into; the farther away, the less steep the ine. Such a geography did not strictly follow the natural world either, distorted by roads and rivers and bridges and seas. After all, from her reading, Rome had once been as if the world itself, such a deep pit that, standing i, one could not imagine a world beyond its reach.
However, the rest of the world had still been there and, one fell, its pit became otle different from other cities. So the endless grain which had poured into it now spilled elsewhere.
Two men emerged from beyond the nearby rise and fall of the nd, breaking her from her musings. One she reised as Henry—Sir Michel’s nephew—and the other she reised as the mayor of the town just ahead. Not that she had met this mayor before, but she had sent Henry to fetch the mayor and could see aplishment in his posture. Behind them then came a few more of her men and, presumably, a few of the mayor’s men.
Ohe two were a few steps away, they came to a stop and Henry said, “Ma—My Lady, this is Mayor Bruni of Trento.”
Her trusty knight Ludwig stepped up to her side, but gave no greeting.
“Signor Sindaco, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said, making no movement but to show a smile at the end.
The mayarded her for a moment, then tipped his fabric cap. “Your Italian is quite good.”
“Do not address me so casually,” she replied, nothing about her expression ging, yet her stern tone gave her smile a certain ess.
Although he did not huff, he looked very much like he wished to. “Lady… Augstadt, was it?”
“It is,” she said and, after a beat, added, “Yerman is quite good too.”
This time he did huff, albeit only slightly. “This soldier of… My Lady’s, he was insistent, but I am busy. Please state the business.”
“Oh, if it is like that, then I shan’t indulge in pleasantries. I am to uand Mr Mayor is retly elected?” she asked.
His expression soured at her addressing him in German now, but she put a question to him and so he answered: “Yes.”
“A six-year term, is it?” she asked, tilting her head.
He ched his hands for a moment before he answered. “Yes.”
She nodded, bringing up a hand to rest against her , then narrowed her eyes. “Mr Mayor should know then that I shall be ing this way with an army before the end of your term with the purpose of besieging Ve such a time, it would be in your own and the town’s io permit us free passage and to allow us to purchase grain.”
It had been said pinly, yet that made it no easier a thing to listen to, his expression even darker by the end. “My Lady is making a joke? Very funny,” he said, voice thin.
“There is no joke here.” Her tone held no humour and her eyes remained narrowed and mouth ft.
Despite that, after a moment, he ughed ay chuckle.
She waited until he finished and looked about to speak, then spoke up herself. “Even if you think I am not capable of taking Venice, you should remember how distant it is from here,” she said, her tone unged, yet that only served to make her words heavier.
He hesitated, but only for a sed. “My Lady, there is much silver mining here,” he said, his tone faster. “We are more than capable of defending ourselves until Venice sends her army, and she will send it.”
She stared at him, stared him down without a flicker of emotion on her fatil she saw his gaze flicker away, at which point she raised her hand. One sed, two, five, then—
A twin boom shattered the silence; she lowered her hand.
Her voiged, now heard as a whisper after the deafening sound, she said, “Wheime es, I shall pass peacefully or I shall leave no trace of Trento behind. The only aid Venice may then offer you is a kind word at yraves. That is, of course, if they should e, for we both know how Venice has struggled i years. Should they hear of an army, surely they shall hide away on their little isnd, surrounded by rotting ships, eating what is left of their piles of gold for what little good it does to stifle their hunger.”
Fmes flickered behind his eyes. “What is to stop me from telling them of your pn?”
“I already told you not to address me so casually,” she whispered, her head tilted bad tone cold, only to return to how she had spoken before in the moment. “And please, do tell them. In fact, let us assume they even believe you, then what do you think will happen? Do remember, they are merts. They do not care about you or the people of the town. No, they shall bleed the mine dry while they , then run off with the profits as soon as they hear the first whisper of my army.”
Still, he stood there without looking away. “My Lady has quite the imagination.”
“Is that so?” she asked, a small smile c her lips. “The Spanish and Puese ti back exotic goods in sue, even the Frend British now taking part, with the Dutch supplying us Germans. It is no wohe goods Venice sells have lost their lustre. Meanwhile, the Greeks have slowly eroded the Veian presen their mainnd—and, little by little, they grow their navy, gaining experience from all their skirmishes with the Muslims.”
At the end of her monologue, she brought up her hand and touched her .
“Mr Mayor, do tell me, how should a little city in a goon pete os trade dries up?”
He held a ft expression. “Unfortunately, my imagination is not as vivid as My Lady’s.”
“Uandable. Well then, before you are dismissed, I would imagine o thing for you: What do you think they will do if they have even the slightest doubt of your loyalty?” She paused there a moment, holding his gaze. “Keep in mind my offer. I have no desire to spill blood; however, if it must be spilt, it shall not be German blood that waters these hills. That is a promise.”
With that said, she turned around and strode into the camp. Behind her, a w out that she did not catothing that could be said now of any io her. After standing for so long, she simply wished to return to her tent.
The hasty footsteps that soon followed her made her doubt she would have that luxury any time soon.
“Ma’am, please, I’ve seeown—I take it.”
She stopped, then slowly turned until she was fag Henry. A few years of ho work had dohe young man some good, albeit his youth lingering in his patchy stubble, otherwise not quite so nky and timid.
Of course, that was not to say he was necessarily a better man than before and now was not the best time for him to test her patience. “Let us sider this a moment of teag. To begin with, we shall duel.”
He was struck dumb by her st words, so it was Ludwig who said, “A duel, ma’am?”
“Ihere should be some spad an audience by the ovens, no?”
She already turned and strode off before she finished speaking, leaving the other two to hurry after her. Reag her side, Ludwig asked, “A duel between whom exactly?”
“Why, Mr Henry and myself.”
She said it as if entirely obvious, which did not seem the case to either man, both now struck silent. Regardless of their disbelief, she led them to the open area where many men sat around, thick with chatter, eager to be first served ohe evening meal finished cooking.
At her arrival, like a wave spreading through them, that chatter ceased and posture improved. Those gave her a salute and a disjointed chorus of, “Ma’am!” rang out.
“Be at ease and enjoy the eai,” she said, loosely gesturing with one hand.
Although the crowd settled down, they did not settle as fortably as before—if only because they now had a show to watch. These were irely oners either, but cousins and nephews of the barons under her, as well as learned men from families that had some wealth and prestige. While their training was still ongoing, they tributed to the officers of the militia, split into three ranks. At the lowest, an officer anded five men (himself making the sixth); at the rank, an officer anded four of these units, totalling twenty-four men; and stly, the highest officers anded five suits, making up a full pany of one hundred and twenty men.
Of course, these were only anisational officers. Their duties were to eheir men were in the right pce, at the right time, with the right equipment, including meals and sleeping arras. Thus, some literacy was required.
Oher side of the hierarchy were the actual knights and hat made up the “leaders” of the panies, but those people had another affair to attend at this time. It was also the case that she had no iion of engaging in any battles, so there was them along. For that same reason, she had only brought around half of her militia.
However, these officers were still men traio fight, ready with good armour, and eager to prove themselves worthy of promotion—or to hold on to their position. Any bandits or errant merary panies would not find easy prey.
So Henry was not an outlier in his eagerness. Still, a lesson o be taught. In the empty space she had found, she chose her position on one side aured at the other side for him.
“Ma’am, please, I ’t raise my on at ma’am. I ’t raise my on at a woman.”
She made no show of her displeasure, yet it came out loud and clear in her words. “You do know there are women iown? If you yourself to strike at me, then what shall you do when a mother es at you with a cooking knife, desperate to save her children from yhter? Should I go bad raise an army of women, that they would win every battle as the other side would not dare raise their ons?”
A hushed ughter rolled through the crowd. He had already looked humiliated, standing there with a look about him as if he would rather be far, far away, then her words fell, fell hard, bringing a heavio his posture. “Ma’am, I—”
She interrupted him by pulling out her sword—a rapier, long and thin—which she stabbed into the damp earth, then began to walk over to him with her hand out. Pressured, he fumbled to take out his own sword and matched her, stabbing it into the ground, then hastily walked to meet her with his hand up.
Only for her, as their hands would meet, to take a quick step forward and flick her wrist. A fsh of steel. She did not hold bad drove the dagger hard into his chest, but spared him its point, pommel striking with a muffled thud against the thick cloth over his armour.
Aaggered back, wheezing.
“I believe that would be my victory,” she said, drawn up to her full height and seeming taller with how he bent over, clutg his chest.
“Ma-am,” he coughed out, stretg it across two breaths.
She turned and strode back to her rapier without so much as a gnce behind her. “If we should storm the town now, we shall simply be murderers. I would not ask that of my loyal subjects. War is not a game, certainly not one I would drag my people into lightly. So I am here to py diploma the hope that, wheime es, we may avoid spilling the blood of our fellow Christians.”
No i at all in what else Henry may have had to say, she tinued on back to her tent in a heavy silence.
The moment she crossed the threshold, she felt a chill, finally out of the sun’s heat. Although not an intense heat, she was hardly dressed lightly and the weight of her armour did not help. Still, she could bear it when necessary; when not necessary, she saw o subject herself to another burden.
Some burdens, though, sought her ardless.
Sat at her desk with her eyes closed, she said, “Sir has thoughts on this matter?”
Ludwig let out a breathless sigh. “If My Lady is worried I disapprove of the… lesson, the ease. Henry certainly needs a reminder now and then that he is not a galnt knight of stories.”
“However….”
This time, there was some breath to his chuckle. “I am curious that My Lady would give such a warning. If not soon, then some years to prepare for an attack certainly shall not make our… work any easier.”
For a while, she remained so still he began to wonder if she had indeed fallen asleep. He knew better, though, and dutifully awaited her reply.
“Sir Ludwig, if I may, what does victory look like to you?”
It was the kind of question he expected from her and simir to one she had asked before. That did not make it any easier to answer, far from it. “I suppose one where our army is able to fight and the enemy ot.”
“Victory, to me, is the betterment of my subjects,” she simply replied.
A casually spokeeh little more effort than required for him to hear.
“I have no desire to loot these little towns for what riches they hold, such wealth temporary. Ultimately, the strategic result I wish for is to cut these farmnds from Veian trol so that ull their grain to our nds and trade our wares with them. To that end, I hope that we may avoid pilging and otherwise devastating these nds, that we may form a positive retionship with these peoples.”
After a moment’s silence, he cleared his throat. “The mayor….”
The er of her lips curled. “Tell me, if one eet the besiegers with sword in hand, how should one overe a siege?”
“Well, I suppose the easiest is to simply outst them. As long as their attempts to promise the walls are thwarted, then there is only so much te in the nearby area,” he said, his voice soft as he thought aloud more than spoke.
When he looked back at her, he saw that the curl had taken over her whole mouth. “The good mayor should think the same. However, with such a vague time given, it is not like he could salt the earth and lock up the town now. So he must hoard more and mrain, always on edge, and then, when we finally do e….”
He listened closely, leaning closer and closer to better hear her quiet voice, until her pause snapped him out of it. Straightening up, he swallowed. “And when we do e?”
Her eyes fluttered open, smile sickly sweet. “They will have much grain to sell us.”
A sense of iability followed her words, which he did not doubt. Far be it from him to doubt his liege; however, this went deeper than that.
An oath was reason enough to dutifully serve without doubt. What he saw ihough, inspired a loyalty all of its own. Someone who, while not perfect, was ear and pious and pained by the cruelness of reality, with a far-reag awareness of how everything ected.
It was something he had not seen in her father. A great man, of course, one who inspired his own kind of loyalty. The longer one spoke with him, the more it seemed like he had every ao every problem in the world, which he could solve if o him orength. An intoxig retionship.
With her, it was more like she was searg for the answers, and he felt pelled to help her find them. Bae, rarely a day went by when she did not meet someone of merit and patiently listen to them with probing questions. She knew well the limits of what she knew and tried to only act within them; however, when required, she still did her best to act outside those limits.
And wheime came to act, she did not hesitate.
“I do apologise,” she whispered, fragile words that drifted over to him.
“For what reason could My Lady possibly have to apologise?” he asked lightly.
Her hand slowly rolled over, then stilled, only to return to her other hand, ly folded. “I have taken so many from the festivities of the Prince’s marriage. Such a petunt child I still am,” she said.
For a moment, he did not know what to say, but there were times when silence was worse than near any answer. “My Lady, many of us have spoken—not that we gossip. That is… we are My Lady’s subjects. Before that, we were your father’s subjects. For those of us who have sworn both such oaths, we have been twijured by His Highness, and we shall not soon fet it.”
Silence followed, stretg longer and longer, what distant sounds of the camp leaked in only serving to intensify the silenside the tent.
Until finally, she spoke. “Then I shall never fet the harm caused to my subjects.”
Such a sweetly seditious line, yet ohat brought a gentle smile to him.
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