Swiss Arms 26 (Patreon)

Swiss Arms
Chapter 26

-VB-

Frederick III, Count of Toggenburg

He stared down at Baron Hans von Wildenberg, and couldn’t help but sigh.

“You … lost.”

The baron looked sheepish and incensed. Not only did he lose a battle against peasant rabble, but he also lost more than three-fourths of his troops. Most of the lost troops, however, had not been the levies like most battles tended to be but a near-total loss of the men-at-arms loaned to the baron, most of whom had been loaned from his allies in the current crisis.

“Tell exactly what happened.”

“I-I led them through the valley towards the village of Maienfeld,” the sniveling baron quickly answered. “Since I wasn’t expecting any significant resistance, I simply had the soldiers line up in standard march with levies in the back and the men-at-arms in the front. Just in case we came across unexpected trouble.”

Reasonable and what Frederick himself would have done.

“But as we neared the village, we were ambushed. By the Count Killer.”

Frederick tensed at the mention of the lowborn sword for hire who killed his counterparts on the other side of Prince-Bishop of Chur’s secular lands. He had met them before and neither had looked like fools, but then again, he didn’t think the bishop was a fool, but the man still lost to a mere baron who he had outnumbered three to one if the report was to be believed.

“How did he ambush you? Those valleys are not densely forested enough.”

“T-They aren’t. Instead, all of the men who ambushed us had covered themselves with grass so that when they laid or crouched down, we could not tell them from the grass surrounding them.”

Frederick narrowed his eyes. Those peasants used honorless methods of war.

He motioned for the baron to continue.

“They had archers on the right side of the road and were far enough away that we could charge them in a short period of time. On the other side was Count Killer with his peasants, all of whom were armed and moved in groups of five. If we turned to defend against the ambushers on the left, then arrows would have - and did - pelt us in the back. If we turned to charge the archers, who were on the other side of the river that runs through the valley, then we would have been stabbed in the back. Seeing as the situation was not tenuous, I ordered my soldiers to retreat, but the archers intentionally attacked the levies first! The undisciplined rabble quickly dispersed and ran, leaving me with only the men-at-arms I had with me.”

Then he tittered as he paled.

“B-But the Count Killer. He came for my head. He wore bear fur as his cloak and put upon himself a metal mask and chest plate. He mocked knights with his outfit, but his strength cannot be denied. With but a swing of his sword, he cleaved chainmail-wearing man-at-arms. He grabbed another by his leg and swung him around like a flail, striking my men with their comrades! He is a brute! A monster!” the baron screeched towards the end.

Frederick wasn’t concerned about a single man. No man was an island, and just as the likes of Julius Caeser and Alexander the Great died, this “man” would die as well.

No, what he was more concerned about other than a man who had some importance lately on the battlefield was what to do with the peasants and the baron who couldn’t put them down.

The rat-like baron - in behavior, if not in appearance - seemed to realize what he was thinking because he fell to his knees quickly and held his hands up above his head.

“P-Please forgive my failure, my liege! Give me another chance!” he begged, almost mewling like Frederick’s dog did whenever it realized it made a mistake.

“Leave me. I will call for you tomorrow,” he sighed instead as he pinched his nose.

The baron hesitated before he gracelessly stood up, bowed lightly, and then shuffled out of his solar.

“What a mess,” Frederick growled quietly to himself. “Seven hundred men lost? Werdenberg, Sargan, and Sax-Misox will not let this go easily.” It had taken a lot of prodding and promises to get those loaned soldiers. How was he keep his face when he eventually had to tell them that they all died because the baron he thought competent wasn’t?

His recent spat with the bishop didn’t help his finances, even if they did agree to a truce until the uppity peasants were dealt with.

Just a few more years and he would have taken the Varian lands, which included the lands and villages of this outright insulting “Compact of the Seven,” from the Prince-Bishop of Chur once this bishop died or retired. After all, he had a claim to those lands and the bishop’s latest inability to deal with the secular lands’ problems would have reflected poorly on him.

Unfortunately, the lack of an emperor in the empire had made a mess of things, and what should have been an easy solution (giving him the Varian lands which included the valleys of this insulting “Compact of the Seven”) ended up being a multi-generational feud with the bishop.

Oh, striking the bishop when he was weak was a good thing. A bishop shouldn’t have even been a secular ruler in the first place, so he was merely proving that he deserved those lands!

…

Ah, he went off on a tangent again.

Regardless of the history of these lands, the only thing that mattered was that the peasants were put down lest they motivate other peasants in neighboring lands to do the same.

Letting uneducated peasants arm themselves and fight without a noble or even a bishop to lead them?

Preposterous. Their mob mentality and inability to read and write would only cause chaos. These peasants weren’t even like the commoners in the Free Cities to his north and far north near the Baltic Sea.

No, no, no.

If one thousand men could not do it, then he would have to bring all of his temporary allies together to crush them.

Ten thousand men should be more than enough to run through the entirety of the valleys.

He quickly wrote five letters.

“Michael.”

“Yes, milord?” his most trusted man-at-arms asked from the other side of the door.

“Bring me five riders. They have letters to deliver.”

-VB-

Albert I, Count of Werdenburg

“Is your lord serious?” Albert asked incredulously at the messenger from the Count of Toggenburg.

He had received the messenger in the middle of his own meeting with his subjects, and when they heard what the Count of Toggenburg was asking for…

Let’s just say that they were not happy.

“The count seems to think that he is the leader of our little alliance!” Albert barked out a laugh. “I don’t think I need to remind the count that he is the least of our five peers, do I? The first to attack a bishop! The first to beg for soldiers! The first to lose to a peasant! I joined in this war because my subjects and I were promised the lands of the bishop that we had claim, but now, he can’t even win against peasants?”

“T-These peasants are led by the Count Killer, milord!” the messenger hastily spoke up while keeping his head bowed.

“Like that makes the situation any better!” Baron John III of Walenstatt spat. “I sent my men to help the count! They are all dead!”

Oh, right. Albert remembered that he had asked for volunteers to help the good count, and the baron had been the only volunteer and had sent almost all of his men-at-arms for what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Albert nodded to John. “And I will help you once this crisis is over, because it is a crisis of Toggenburg’s making,” he spoke up, and the messenger bristled. A man loyal to Toggenburg, huh? “After all, a peasant rebellion is nothing new, and yet the count couldn’t even put them down. I don’t think I will help anymore.”

-VB-

Rudolf II, Count of Sargans

Rudolf stared at the messenger before pinching his nose. “This was a mistake.”

“Y-Your Grace-” the messenger tried but he cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“If the count can’t handle his own problems, then I won’t help. I will instead re-initiate our war against the bishop.”

“The bishop is part of the alliance!” the messenger gawked.

“The bishop also didn’t help with the peasants, which was one of the conditions of the truce. He broke the truce, so I don’t see why I must continue with this. Once my business with Chur is complete, I can then focus on the peasants on my own.”

-VB-

Siegfried von Gelnhausen, Prince-Bishop of Chur

“He lost?” Siegfried gawked at the messenger. “How did he lose to peasant rabble when he had over a thousand men?!”

“They were ambushed cleverly by the Count Killer,” the messenger mewled in fear as he trembled on his knees on the cobblestone floor.

“The Count Killer is -!”

He paused.

The Count Killer… was actually someone one of his deacons met. Deacon Benjamin was very adamant that the Count Killer was a good man. Obviously, the good man in question was also a very able commander if he was able to wipe out seven hundred men, most of whom were men-at-arms. It was unfortunate that the man started his mercenary career as his enemy from the start.

He would have gladly hired such a man, especially in these troubled times.

However, the Count Killer went against God by not only usurping the rightful authority of the lords, which were given by God’s chosen emperors, but also the legal and secular authority of the land.

“Then -”

“Your Holiness!” a panting guard barged into the receiving hall, where Siegfried, the messenger, and a few other courtiers and priests sat around in. “W-Werdenburg! An army of Werdenburg have sacked a village!”

“WHAT?!” he roared as he shot up from his seat. “We are under truce! That treacherous backstabbing cur! I will have him excommunicated for breaking the truce!”

Then he turned to the messenger. “You. Go back and tell the Count of Toggenburg that his friend is breaking the truce. If he wants my continued abstain in his attack against the peasants, then he will bring Werdenburg to heel and pay reparation for the damages he’s caused!”

Once the messenger was dragged out, he turned to Priest Malcolm. “Go to Count Sax-Misox and alert him to this treachery!”

-VB-

Albert I, Count of Gorizia, vassal of Henry II of Bohemia, Governor of Tyrol

“So … you’re telling me that the count lost two hundred of my troops.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Lost everyone’s troops.”

“Yes.”

“And now he wants us to give more troops?”

“Yes.”

“Is your count daft?”

“I do not believe so, no, Your Grace.”

Albert leaned back into his small throne he used in place of his nephew, who was the real ruler of Tyrol and he the mere governor.

“Do I look like a fool, messenger?”

The messenger shook his head, and Albert could see the truth in his answer.

“Your lord lost more troops in this single peasant rebellion that I have no personal stake in,” he replied. “How does someone lose a thousand troops to peasants? Even if the Count Killer is a member of this so-called ‘Compact,’ he should not have any trained troops of his own, never mind the necessary arms and armor to fight a battle, never mind a war! So how did the count lose?”

“I have been told that he trusted the subjugation of the peasants to his trusted baron, Baron Hans of Wildenburg, who failed due to an ambush in the middle of daylight.”

“Was it in a forested land?” Albert could understand that. He might not have a lot of experience in the battlefield, but he heard over and over again how forests were the worst enemy of a marching army.

“No. It was on a flat valley.”

Albert tried to imagine how the ambush might have happened. “Is there a deep river in the valley…?”

“No, Your Grace. Only tall grass.”

“You mean to tell me that a ‘trusted baron’ of the count … didn’t even bother to send scouts ahead?”

The messenger was silent before he responded. “I am unaware of the exact details of the circumstance, Your Grace. I apologize.”

Albert sighed. He had wanted to punish the peasants in that region for killing one of his vassals, but apparently, this was more trouble than it was worth!

“I’m done with this,” he told the messenger. “Go back to your lord and tell him that I am done. If he couldn’t put down some peasants, nad his judgement of one’s character is so far off that the commander he trusted lost a thousand men to peasants… I can’t trust him to not cost me more than he already has. As of today, the temporary alliance between Toggenburg and Gorizia-Tyrol is over.”

-VB-

A/N: yes, unfortunately, there were many rulers with names and numbers that were unfortunately similar at this time.

So what is happening above is this. When the Compact formed, news of its formation reached the local warring lords. Unanimously, they agreed that this was not a good thing because the Compact, if allowed to exist, controlled a significant portion of the currently disputed territory.

List of claims:
Toggenburg - all of it because Prince-Bishop of Chur is an incompetent fool who can’t even properly take care of his territories.
Chur - it’s literally, legally, factually, and nominally mine! I just can’t defend it properly…
Sax-Misox - we’re fighting each other at the moment, but we are still technically at war with Chur because we declared war on Baron of Vaz and defeated him, so all of his territory is ours by right of conquest! *got taken out by peasants*
Sargans - look, that territory was taken from us before Chur came along. Who cares if it was two hundred years ago? It’s still ours! Good thing there’s no emperor to stop us. Oh, and we’re allies with Toggenburg.
Montfort - I don’t have a claim, but I’m in it for some money.
Gorizia-Tyrol - I’m just helping Sargans and Toggenburg for money and because these peasants killed my vassal in Zernez.

All of them - we’re not gonna let some peasant rabble rebellion take our shit.

So they agreed to put down the peasants before they went back to squabbling over who owned what.

And then…

Compact - herr derr, idgaf what the powerful nobles around me say. Baron of Vaz had our loyalty but now he and his son are dead, so we gonna make a pact between ourselves, completely ignoring the socio-political ramifications of what that means (insulting the nobles by declaring, indirectly, that they are too weak). Also we’re just a defensive pact. No politics here. Oh, and we killed count of Zernez and count of Sax-Misox. And beat the shit out of Chur. And just slaughtered nearly a thousand men from all of the claimants, because they were threatening.

And this chapter is basically the following:
Toggenburg - wtf. Fuck it, let’s just bumrush them.
Sargans - fuck that. You’re incompetent, too, just like Chur. I’m gonna gank Chur.
Chur - WTF?! Oi, Toggenburg, do something about your ally! Sax-Misox, back me up here!
Sax-Misox - *brothers fighting each other and not really giving a shit about external issues*
Neighboring Montfort - wtf is going on…
Gorizia-Tyrol - fuck this shit. I’m out.