Swiss Arms 75 (Patreon)

Swiss Arms

Chapter 75

-VB-

Duke Rudolf of Upper Bavaria

“That fucking rat!” Rudolf hissed while holding onto the reins of his warhorse. His leather gloves squeaked under his tightening fist as he looked down at the only way through these mountains to reach the Compact and that baron … was blocked by that very same baron.

He knew that this might have happened because he wanted to take the closest path to the Compact, but that goddamn Henry must have told the baron about it! Now, they were in a narrow valley with densely forested, steep hills on both sides where battle couldn’t possibly happen, leaving only a flat, narrow gap for them to fight.

A significant part of his tactics involved flanking the baron without a cavalry of his own and killing him. Instead, the baron positioned himself in a way that made flanking not only hard but also usage of cavalry unwanted because of the dense forest!

But retreating from here was also unadvised. The valleys behind him were even worse off than the valley in front of him with even steeper hills, cliffs that would see someone fall right into the river, and an equally dense forest that blocked sight.

“Raise the white flag. I wish to talk with this baron,” he growled. His page did just that, and he strode forward from the center of his army to the front and then across the clearing between his and the baron’s “army.”

They didn’t shoot him, which meant that the baron was at least aware of the rules of war.

Once he got closer to their frontline, he found the baron walking up to meet him.

Rudolf blinked as he realized that the baron was a rather tall man. With his rough metal faceplate and bear fur, he looked bigger and better armored than all of his men. Then there was that big slab of iron the hillbilly brute called his weapon.

“... So you are Baron of Fluelaberg.”

“I am. And you are Rudolf, the Duke of Upper Bavaria,” the peasant-born noble spat with disgust. Rudolf felt his cheeks twitch at the blatant disrespect but he already knew that the brute in front of him was a disrespectful cunt from the response he received.

Rudolf, instead, gestured at his army. “You can clearly see that I have a bigger army, baron. Surrender yourself, and I will not burn your little fort.”

The baron looked up at him before snorting. He too gestured at his army. “Go back to your army, little lord. If you think your silver spoon fed lordship can take on our hardy mountain soldiers, then come at us. None of us are scared of you. Do we fear him, men?!”

“NO!” they roared back, and the sudden shout made his horse stumble back with a whine.

He pulled at the reins of his horse, trying to get him under control.

“Who are we?!” the baron demanded as he stepped forward. He grabbed his “sword” with one hand … and then pulled it off of his back and up into the air.

Rudolf stared with wide eyes at what had to be at least a hundred pounds of steel was held aloft by a single arm and hand. That … was impressive.

“We are men of the mountain!” the peasant army roared back.

Rudolf narrowed his eyes. No, it wasn’t that all of the peasant levies were saying that in sync, but it was the more elite looking fighters spread out among them that were shouting and in turn getting the rest to roar along.

This little baron was riling up his men for battle. He truly did intend to fight him.

“So be it, ‘men of the mountain,’” he snapped back with a shout of his own. “When I reach your town, I will burn it to the ground! All of you will be a lesson in why nobles are not to be messed with by you lowly peasants!”

He rode back, and when he was back among his knights, men-at-arms, and levies, he snapped his horse around to face the baron’s army once more. “Prepare for battle!”

-VB-

Leon of Fluelaberg

He quivered in his boots and behind his spear as he and his platoon stood shoulder to shoulder with their spears in hand.

They saw the much larger army marching toward them, and he couldn’t help but question…

Could they really do it? Yeah, he shouted along with the rangers at the duke but that was one thing.

Could he … kill?

“Do you lot want to go back to the days when lords can just kill you for no reason?” the baron asked loudly that he could be heard by all. “Do you want to live in a world where the likes of the Unruly Year can happen at any moment? Where egos of men like that duke decides the life of your families?”

Leon gulped and remembered his own wife, who was waiting for him.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“No,” he gritted out, and he wasn’t the only one.

“I am your [Commander]! As long as I stand, I will not let you down!” the baron exclaimed. “This is my promise to you! I will not fall until the last of their men falls! I will not run before any of you!” He swung his sword down, and there was a boom of air. There was a moment of silence among their army. “I am your lord,” he spoke softly but it sounded so loud in that silence. “I will show you exactly what you should aspire to be on the battlefield.”

There was a mismatch of a roar from across the battlefield, and Leon saw the duke’s army charge toward them. Even the duke himself was riding in the front, and one of his knights carried his banner, letting it flutter in the winds.

It was terrifying!

Leon began quivering again.

But their lord…

He pointed at the duke.

“FIRE!”

For a second, nothing happened.

And then Leon saw multiple arrows flying out from the forests to their left and right. Each of those arrows fluttered wth flames as they sailed through the air.

Then…

Those arrows landed among the charging bavarians.

…

Nothing.

“All it takes,” the lord hummed as he raised his sword up. “Is one.”

That’s when it happened.

BBOOOMMM!!!

A plume of black smoke and fire erupted from the center of the charging enemy army, and a dozen more quickly erupted in succession. It was deafening. Leon screamed as he felt the waves of pressure washing over him like gentle breezes.

But gentle breezes did not send men flying into the sky. Or set the valley aflame.

Leon’s eyes widened.

The barrels! The shit barrels! Nearly all of them had been missing for a while now! The baron must have discovered some … some kind of sorcery!

They could win this!

“MEN!” the baron roared. “SPEARS. DOWN!”

The few days of training he got took over, and he lowered his spear.

“ADVANCE!”

-VB-

A/N: y'all finally got the boom you wanted. Details on how exactly this was achieved will be explained in a later chapter. You know, aside from the knowledge that poops can explode, and fermented poops are the most likely candidates for that.

A/N 2: white flags were used to signal surrender in the Second Battle of Cremona, also known as the First Battle of Bedriacum, which was in AD 69.

A/N 3: Also https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4998016/.