Morgarten (Book 2 of the Forest Knights)

by J. K. Swift

  He kept Landenberg gagged for the entire two-day trip. He had sworn to deliver him alive, after all, and he was not sure he would be able to keep his word if the man were allowed to speak. He had tied Landenberg on his stomach, with his face hanging over the mule’s backside. So long as Landenberg had the strength, he could keep his head up and mostly avoid the mule’s swishing tail. But, once his neck muscles gave out, his head bounced in and out of dark places, competing with the flies.

  Noll kept up a constant stream of chatter to make up for the Vogt’s relative silence. He spoke of all the times he had raided Landenberg’s camps, the tricks he had played on his men, the various occasions when Landenberg had almost captured him, but always failed.

  “Who would have thought it?” Noll asked. “That day you had my father’s eyes cut out, that a few short years later you and I would enjoy a stroll through these woods together. As traveling companions…” He gave his head a shake.

  One of the mule’s hooves slid off a moss-covered rock and he stumbled. Landenberg’s head smacked against the animal’s flank several times before the mule regained its footing.

  “Yes, it will sadden me greatly to have to part. But I suspect the mule will be happy enough to get your head out of its arse.”

  ***

  “My lord…”

  Leopold looked up from his soup to his wife seated across from him. Three servants stood nearby but, in the manner of all good servants, were almost invisible. In fact, the best members of Leopold’s staff were people whose names he did not even know. They were the best of the best, yet relegated to a life of obscurity.

  He set his spoon down. One of the older men stepped forward and removed it.

  “Yes, my dear?” He looked up, but Catherine’s eyes still unnerved him. They were simply too far apart, and he found it impossible to share prolonged eye contact with her. He glanced away, under the pretense of reaching for his serviette.

  Somehow, a clean spoon had appeared on the table.

  Remarkable. Which one of you was it?

  “My lord. I am with child.”

  Leopold realized that, with the proper incentive, he actually could look his wife in the eyes. Albeit one at a time, and with a slight head twist.

  “Why, that is wonderful,” he said. “Have you spoken with my physicians?”

  “Of course, my lord. And they insisted I be the one to tell you.”

  Leopold made a mental note to have a little talk with them both. He hated surprises. Even good ones.

  He picked up his new spoon and dipped it into his soup. But he did not put it into his mouth. Instead, he dropped it once again on the table, making a small splatter.

  “And have you had the child divined?”

  Catherine’s head bobbed. A curt, enthusiastic motion. But nothing more. Apparently, she would have him drag it out of her.

  “And… what do they think it is?”

  The spoon was gone, but the splatter remained. He caught the older servant in the act of placing a fresh spoon beside the bowl. As he put the utensil down with one hand, the other wiped up the small splatter with a square of cloth concealed in the palm of his hand. Leopold had almost missed it.

  “A boy, my lord.”

  “Fantastic!” Leopold said, slapping his palm onto the table.

  Catherine’s eyes widened, but not even one of the servants so much as blinked.

  “I must admit, that is how I felt when they told me as well, my lord.”

  “This is cause for celebration,” Leopold said. He waved to the servants. “Get rid of this broth. Bring us some meat!”

  “You seem pleased,” Catherine said.

  “Of course I am. This is a special day. My first child,” Leopold said.

  Catherine nodded. “I am glad to see you happy, my lord. For some women, that in itself would be enough.”

  Uh-oh. Something is coming….

  Leopold glanced down for a spoon to stick into his soup, but remembered he had just had them both taken away. He shot an angry glare at the nearest servant.

  “I have tried to make you happy, my lord, in the short time we have been married. Do you think I have been a good wife?”

  No soup, no spoon. Where is that meat?

  “Of course. There is no man more fortunate in all of Austria,” he said.

  Catherine paused, and sat up straight in her chair. “I am not content. I wish to do more. For both the House of Habsburg and the Duchy of Savoy. My father always told me I had a keen sense for politics, better than any of his sons. He did not raise me to be a royal nursemaid.”

  She punctuated her outburst with a curt nod, and stared straight ahead at Leopold.

  If Leopold had had a spoon in his hand at that very moment, he definitely would have dropped it.

  Well, well, well. What have we here?

  He leaned back in his chair and looked at Catherine, carefully, wondering how he had missed this side of her.

  “And what exactly is it that you can do?” he asked.

  She did not avert her gaze, and surprisingly, this time Leopold found himself in no hurry to look away.

  “Many things. If you would but share with me some of the problems you encounter in your role as Duke of Styria and Further Austria, I am sure I could be of some help. You try to do too much yourself, but you are only one man, after all.”

  “Very well. I need money.”

  “Money?” she said it like it was a subject she had never given much thought.

  “Yes. You know. Gold, silver, bronze. I would not even turn away copper at this point, although, if you can manage it, some nice florins or gold bezant would be preferable.”

  “And what need do you have for all this?” Catherine asked.

  Leopold laughed. “Have you not noticed the new barracks being erected in the woods? Come spring I expect to have thousands more mouths to feed. Of course they are mostly infantry, so it will not take much. But, by summer, the Archbishop’s knights will arrive. Knights, and their equipment, make short work of any man’s coffers.”

  “But it is the Archbishop’s responsibility to maintain his knights and provide funds for them while in the service of the Crown, is it not? And I saw the chest you brought back from Salzburg.”

  “Oh, yes. That chest. Well, it only looked big,” Leopold said. He may as well have thrown it in the Salzach river for all the good it did him.

  “I see,” Catherine said. She looked at her hands, her slender fingers twisted about one another like a bird’s nest. She raised her head. “I believe I can help. Give me some time.”

  Leopold almost laughed, but a part of him believed her. Or wanted to believe her.

  “That would be lovely,” he said.

  “In the meantime,” Catherine began, “In light of recent developments, I trust that you will no longer see a need to send your gorilla to our bed? I fear the posts have weakened, and I am not sure they can withstand his weight any longer.”

  “Of course. I will tell him to cease his visits immediately.”

  Leopold smelled the meat before he saw it. Steaming beneath his nose was a generous portion of braised lamb, served atop a freshly baked trencher made with white flour. He saw the black specks, and a grin spread across his face. It was the latest culinary craze, and like most people who could afford it, Leopold could not get enough.

  Pepper, lots and lots of pepper.

  ***

  Evading Habsburg patrols lengthened the journey far more than Noll had anticipated. It took them the better part of four days to reach the Kussnacht, and another hour of traveling after dark before they finally heard the sounds of Habsburg Castle. Minutes later, light from torches on the outer walls peeked through the trees. Noll tied the mule to a bush and checked to ensure Landenberg’s gag was still in place. The Vogt’s eyes were closed from exhaustion, but he was still very much alive. He did not even wake when Noll slapped his face to crush a mosquito.

  Seeing the man helpless before him, a man that only a few sho
rt years ago Noll had sworn to kill if given the opportunity, was not as satisfying as Noll had always dreamed it would be. He knew he should slit the Vogt’s throat now and be done with him. If their roles had been reversed, Noll was sure that Landenberg would have executed him without a second thought.

  Damn the council.

  But he could not bring himself to do it. The last few years had not only been about bringing justice to the man who had maimed his father. They had been about fighting the system that had condoned it. And that system would still exist even if Landenberg was no longer part of this world.

  Noll turned toward the castle and slid off into the woods to get a closer look. After climbing a short distance through the brush, he could make out the front gate. Several guards milled about.

  Perched on top a hill, Noll imagined that the multi-floored keep within its walls commanded an impressive view of the surrounding farmlands, but overall, the castle itself was nothing extravagant. Its original design had been one of function rather than form. The road leading up to its main gate was steep and straight. At one time, there would have been no trees on either side of the road, but over the last few hundred years the castle’s owners had grown lax with their defenses. Forests had reclaimed large parts of what had once been killing fields.

  The castle was no fortress. But it did not need to be one, for who in their right mind would dare attack the hereditary home of the Habsburgs? Noll had never heard of anyone ever laying siege to the castle. Which could have been because of the political strength of its owners, but just as likely due to its remote location and the relatively poor lands surrounding it. In other words, no one wanted it.

  As he crept closer through the woods, Noll allowed himself to fantasize about marching his own army up the road and storming the front gate. The thought of taking Habsburg Castle put a smile on his face and he covered his mouth with one hand, on the off chance that the white of his teeth reflecting torchlight might give him away.

  Even if it were possible, he quickly dismissed the thought. What would he do once he had it? The place would be completely indefensible. But what a blow it would be to Leopold!

  It was less than an hour past full dark, so there was still plenty of activity near the front gate. Workers were leaving for the day. Some carried axes and shovels, others lead oxen hitched to empty wagons. A dozen soldiers, with the red lion of Habsburg emblazoned on the chests of their tunics, marched forth and relieved the current guards spread along the wall near the front gate.

  Noll became aware of an excessive amount of noise and light coming from within the outer walls. Curious, he moved away from the main gate and found a tall oak tree not far from one of the side walls. He climbed, moving slowly in the darkness, and after several minutes he turned his attention back to the castle. There, suspended high off the ground with his arms hooked around two branches, he had a view of the courtyard all the way up to the front steps of the inner keep.

  What he saw made him want to jump down from his perch and run. The only thing that stopped him was he had no idea where he would go.

  He counted a full score of new buildings in various states of completion. Most were long, rectangular structures that Noll knew only too well, for he had seen them in every Habsburg-controlled town he had ever visited.

  They were soldier barracks.

  Hundreds of tents surrounded these incomplete buildings, and armored men milled around cooking fires that lit the grounds like it was a full moon night. Noll had never seen so many soldiers in a single location. His mouth went dry and images of his own minuscule army of farmers, boys, and old men slapping one another with wooden swords, mocked him.

  As soldiers wandered in and out of the light, Noll identified the red lion of Habsburg on many a chest, but far more bore the black eagle of the Holy Roman Empire. Even though his brother was embroiled in war against Louis the Bavarian, Leopold had still managed to call in Empire forces.

  Noll felt the beginnings of panic set in.

  The panic became a wave of vertigo and the dark night became darker still. He hugged the tree until it passed and he could see clearly once again. He took a deep breath and gazed out over the multitude of fires.

  Perched in his fragile hiding spot, the reality of the situation overcame him. Did he think he was in a struggle against only Habsburg tyranny? Had he not considered Leopold would use all the resources he could muster, including those of the vast Holy Roman Empire?

  Noll had assumed the German princes would be too preoccupied with the war for the crown. They would have enough problems of their own and would not pay any attention to a small uprising in a remote alpine town.

  He tried to tell himself that. But he realized the truth was he had given the matter very little thought before attacking the Altdorf fortress. He had been driven with a righteous anger. Anger at what Leopold had done to Pirmin and what he was about to do to Seraina. He did not give a moment’s thought to how his actions would affect the people of Altdorf.

  He had simply acted without thinking. Just as he had when he smashed the fingers of Landenberg’s tax collector. That day had cost his father his sight. What would the people of Altdorf have to pay for his latest rash act?

  Noll made the hazardous climb back down and then crept his way from shadow to shadow back to Landenberg’s tethered mule. He led the beast and its semi-conscious cargo to a spot on the road that could not be seen from the castle. Without a single wisecracking comment to Landenberg, he slapped the mule and sent him trotting toward the front gate.

  ***

  “Please forgive the intrusion my lord,” the oldest servant said. He acknowledged Catherine at the other end of the table with a deep bow. “My lady.”

  “What is it?” Leopold said, putting down his eating knife.

  “A disturbance, my lord.”

  “I could tell you as much,” Leopold said.

  “At the front gate, my lord.”

  “Does it warrant interrupting my evening meal?” Leopold asked the question but he already knew what the man’s answer would be. He was an impeccable servant and would not dare bother his lord and lady with something mundane.

  “I believe so, my lord.”

  Leopold glared at the man, and although he avoided Leopold’s eyes with his own, he continued to stare straight ahead without flinching. Leopold stuck his knife into the table and left it there, quivering.

  “And I believe you,” Leopold said. Then he turned to his wife. “Excuse me, my dear. I will not be long.”

  He stood and Lady Catherine also put down her utensils and pushed away from the table. “I shall accompany you,” she said.

  Leopold was about to protest, but remembering their earlier conversation stopped himself.

  “Very well.”

  He walked around to Catherine and offered his arm.

  “Shall we?”

  ***

  Hunched over in the darkness, less than fifty paces from the main gate, Noll regretted asking Matthias to bring him the jitteriest mule he could find. The animal had trotted up to the gate well enough, but when the guards approached with their torches, he spooked and would not allow anyone to get near. The soldiers called out others, and they came brandishing more torches, which only made things worse. Soon a dozen men chased the mule back and forth in front of the gate, and the animal became so frantic he began snapping at hands as they reached for him.

  There was movement at the gate again as soldiers stepped out of the way. They lined up, forming ranks, and Noll was surprised to see Duke Leopold himself stroll forward. He stood with his hands on his hips and watched as the wide-eyed mule charged between the soldiers, evading all attempts at capture.

  Leopold shouted something to a huge, gray-bearded man at his side, who snatched a spear from the hands of a surprised guard and stepped forward. When the panicked animal next came toward him, he thrust twelve inches of tempered steel behind his foreleg, puncturing his lung but missing his heart. The mule let out a sound that began as
a horse’s high-pitched whinny but died off in a breathless donkey’s bray. He bounded away from his attacker and walked stubbornly for twenty seconds with the spear’s butt-end dragging on the ground, and Sir Berenger Von Landenberg still tied to his back. Then the mule stumbled and his front legs began to give out.

  Noll closed his eyes as the animal let out a last strangled cry and crumpled to the ground.

  “Arnold Melchthal!”

  Noll’s heart pounded in his ears. He looked up to see Leopold striding directly at him. It took every last bit of self-control Noll possessed to resist the temptation to flee. He knew an animal flushed from cover was as good as dead.

  “Or is it Thomas Schwyzer? Perhaps both of you hide within earshot?”

  Leopold stopped walking and his head slowly turned as he scanned the dark woods.

  Noll reminded himself to breathe. Silently.

  When Leopold next spoke he looked into a section of forest fifty yards up the road from Noll’s actual location, which was now less than ten paces from the Duke.

  “No, I doubt very much the Hospitaller is here,” Leopold said, shaking his head.

  If only I had a crossbow.

  “It is just you, Noll. That is what your friends call you, is it not?”

  Noll fixed his eyes on the dead mule, for he did not want to look directly at Leopold. It was a hunter’s trick that every old-timer swore by: you can only get close to your prey if you avoid looking at it directly. Prey knows when it is being watched.

  But who, in this instance, was the prey?

  At that moment, staring at the dead mule, Noll did not feel like a hunter. He shook his head in disgust. His idea of a joke had cost the animal its life.

  More soldiers flowed out of the gates. Their yellow tunics bearing the black eagle seemed to light up the road. These were the hardened fighting men of the Empire; professional killers that knew no other trade. They were not part-time farmers or millers patched together to form a militia.