Swiss Arms 47 (Patreon)

A/N: a fresh perspective on all of this.

-VB-

Swiss Arms

Chapter 47

-VB-

Life could be shitty.

It was a phrase John learned from his warden and guardian, Hans of Fluela. It was just one of many things he learned from the man who killed his father.

Even though common sense dictated that he should hate the man for his father’s death and the golden cage he put John in, John didn’t feel hatred for Hans. Extreme unhappiness, maybe, but not hate. He didn’t feel the blinding rage that broiled at the back of his mind, that churned his actions forward, that clouded his thoughts, and more.

No, both he and Hans only felt regret for the ways things turned out, which couldn’t be said about anyone else in Fluelaberg and the rest of the Compact of the Se- Eight. John hated some of them, the ones who arrogantly made sure he heard how they were the ones who took down a noble, how they were the ones who unshackled the yokes forced upon them by the nobles, and how it was they who made the Compact what it was.

Absolute. Morons.

There were idiots who thought just because they defeated a few nobles in a sparsely populated region that they were not only strong enough but good enough to start “shit-talk” nobles. All of those idiots forgot that they were only as strong as their weakest chain.

That was something his late father taught him, and when he looked upon the people of the Compact, he saw what was their weakness. Or rather who.

“Whatcha doing?”

John frowned at the atrocious drawl Hans thought friendly. He turned around and looked at the Lord of the Valleys, a nickname whispered among the servants, which he frankly agreed with.

“Nothing much. Just staring at the town,” he replied while seated on a chair made out of wood and wool that sat on a third-story veranda.

Hans hummed. “Well, lunch is coming up, so I want you there for it, alright?”

“Yes, milord.”

“Ugh. Why does it always sound so weird when I hear that from you?” Hans remarked before walking away.

John rolled his eyes and continued to stare out at the town, which was related to Hans’s latest nickname, the Lord of the Valley. The trade boom, the explosive growth of the town, and the near absolute control Lord Hans exerted in the Fluela Valley would have been an impossible combination to handle for any normal noble and lord.

He still wasn’t sure how Hans was doing it, but perhaps it was something he would discover in due time. For now, he would continue to learn under Hans. It was the correct choice. Aside from the fact that Hans defeated John’s father, John learned a lot as Hans’s ward. Though some of what he learned were things he personally didn’t need to know (like supply and demand) while others were all too useful (like why and how politics worked the way it did and how he should get ahead in politics if he could).

But sometimes, he still found himself just staring out into the Fluelaberg’s castle town and wondering about his life.

Did father have to wage war for land? Did father have to die? Was it wise to be learning from his father’s killer?

Thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts, yet none of them led to action that would solve those thoughts.

Fighting and killing Hans was … he would reject it. Hans had made him feel at home here, had allowed him to exchange letters with his mother, and even handmade a sweet cake for him on his birthday and allowed his mother to visit at the same time. Hans taught him as much as he could with the limited time he had. John laughed at Hans’s stupid jokes, sneered at his lowborn habits, and was awed by Hans’s strength.

Even if it had been only a year since he found himself with these people, John knew that he would never be able to raise his sword against them unless his direct family was in danger.

Because Fluelaberg was beautiful. It was beautiful because of its people and lord. An optimistic town that looked to the future and strode towards it.

In comparison, his life before the war was … incomparable. The monotony of daily life where he trained with the master-at-arms, read books in Latin and German, received lessons, and ate food with his family. Sure, he loved his family. He loved his father. But life in Toggenburg was a restricted thing, and what peasants he saw were poor and weak people.

People here in Fluelaberg were not. Though they might not be well off, they were heading towards it. They ate and slept well. They had a strong defender who wasn’t interested in starting wars. Such circumstances gave the people “room to breath,” and that room made them happier. Sure, they grumbled occasionally like the ones who grumbled about him, but at the end of the day, everyone here was happier than in any other place he’d been to. Their happiness infected him like a disease and wouldn’t leave him.

… Learning was fun. Being in Fluelaberg was fun, despite all of the horrible things that led up to his stay here. Laughing and playing with Hans was fun.

What wasn’t fun was that new lady, Lady Isabella of Gorizia. Her father, the Count of Gorizia, was a vassal of the Habsburgs, his maternal family, and also the governor of their Tyrolian lands. She looked to be extremely infatuated with Hans, and it actually kind of pissed him off.

Hans spoke at length about what he wanted and wanted to accomplish. How, while he still wishes for an idyllic life, he wishes to provide for his people. How, even as he stares longingly at his pickaxe after all too short of a mining trip, he goes out to talk with big-name merchants to manage the trade coming in and out of the town.

And to John, Isabella looked like a gold digger who wanted to swoop in and take the fruits of Hans’s work.

The thought of such a thing potentially happening, the idea that someone might bring his friend down, infuriated him. He didn’t trust that skank. She had to be here on a power play her father was making! If that was the case, then John would make sure no harm would come to Hans.

As Hans taught him, the success of those connected to him reflected back on him. To be a Ward and then the future Count of Toggenburg meant that he was now tied to Hans. If he put what Hans taught him to practice, then it was that he would help Hans when his friend asked just as his friend would surely do the same for him.

Hmm, perhaps he should probe Hans about a formal alliance once he came of age. Surely, a more concrete agreement would make it easier for everyone. Oh, he might even be able to get those sugars and white ceramics on the cheap. Those merchants were shouting some wild prices for them down at the marketplace.