Swiss Arms
Chapter 176
-VB-
Leon the Mine Manager
1310
The day began like any other.
The sun rose over the valleys, and everyone woke up to do their work. Some soldiers patrolled the city and the surrounding land. Some worked to fix the damaged city alongside the worried civilians. Merchants came by their camp to sell their wares. Some whores came by as well, though most would rather stay in the city. Nurses, doctors, and “medics” worked around the clock to keep their injured comfortable as they recovered.
And the count… Well, he was always busy doing something.
He exercised like he always did back in the city, and just seeing him lift up two bulls that were tied to logs made a lot of the civilians of Bruneck feel relieved that his liege lord was merciful. His lord also went about helping the nurses and doctors, and always emphasized washing hands in soap before touching wounds. He would also randomly check the soldiers’ camps. He didn’t care about the whores or gambling, but if he ever found a soldier or a tent full of soldiers leaving crumbs of food around that can attract pests? Oh boy, they’ll wish they never did.
Nothing much would happen over the course of the day, and as the sun crawled across the sky, the count would train the soldiers - the volunteers and rangers alike - to pass the time.
Today seemed like it was going to end like any other day as well.
Then they heard it.
Rapid hoof drops of a charging horse.
A single horse.
Leon looked up from where he had been making dinner over a steel pot and saw a horseman thundering across the camp’s main street, jump off of his horse, and rush into the count’s tent.
He sat there, tense, as the stew inside the pot bubbled away, and he wasn’t the only one watching with abated breath.
But after a while, nothing seemed to happen and the rider left the tent.
Some of the soldiers and officers swarmed the unfortunate man.
And then rumors began to circulate.
By the time Leon was done making his stew and had taken a bite, the rumor finally reached him.
And it didn’t turn out to be a rumor at all.
He stopped mid second bite and stared at his second-in-command of their “platoon.”
“Habsburgs are here?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes, that’s what I heard! The rider said the Habsburg’s night camp is just an hour’s ride at full speed!”
That was awfully close.
Leon ate quickly and made his way to the count’s tent and waited outside.
Surely, there would be orders.
And there was.
When most of the soldiers had finished eating, the count stepped out of the tent and found him and other remaining officers. He stared at them all in surprise and then nodded in satisfaction.
“We have work to do. Come in.”
Leon and the other officers all stepped through the tent’s flaps.
There was a map of the local area, probably retrieved from the imprisoned baron’s manor and castle.
“Currently, we are not only outnumbered but many of our better trained soldiers - men-at-arms, rangers, and knights - are either incapacitated or dead. If the Habsburgs truly wanted this outcome, then not only did they succeed but they have put us in a corner where we have no good option to take.”
“Then will we be retreating? Hold out in Fluelaberg until our allies come to aid us?” Leon asked.
But when he looked at his liege lord, he didn’t see resignation or helpless fury.
No.
He saw a man who would act. Who would fight even if no one else followed him to battle.
“No,” his lord replied predictably. “What we will do instead is force them to engage us at a location where they cannot make use of their numbers.” Then he pointed to a lake just east of Bruneck. “This is Olanger Stausee. What do you see?”
They looked.
“... There are narrow paths around the lake but the hills on either side are too steep for proper battle to take place,” Leon muttered, and the other officers nodded and mumbled in agreement.
“And that’s where we will hold. With our superior bows, crossbows, and bombs, you lot will hold the southern bank. I, with a few hundred, will hold the northern bank.”
Leon’s head snapped toward his liege. “My lord, that is too dangerous, even for you. Just a few hundred men? Didn’t you say yourself the enemy outnumbers us?”
“And those numbers won’t matter. That is why I will have men who are used to fighting with the halberd with me so that if any horse-riding knights do come, we will drag them down.”
Leon wanted to object but the count looked set on this path.
“Please take at least a hundred more than what you had in mind, my lord,” someone else implored.
The count stared at him, then at Leon, and finally at the rest of them.
“Fine. But expect me to send them to you if I so much as think that you are being pushed by them. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good. Then we move out before the sun rises, so get to sleep as quickly as you can.”
---
Duke Frederick of Austria
“What?”
When morning came, his army had packed up and begun to march.
But a mere hour of marching later, they found themselves staring down an enemy army they did not expect to meet here.
Flags -with the tri-tipped black mountain on a white and green background - fluttered in the wind in the valley ahead of them on either side of a lake Frederick had not known about.
Fluelaberg.
He gritted his teeth.
His brother’s killer was here.
He took a deep breath in and let it out.
“I guess I will simply have to burn your home after I kill you,” he spat out before urging his horse around. “Men! Your liege lord’s killers stand in front of you! Prepare for battle!”
He looked back at the flags… and noticed that the flag on the northern side of the lake was bigger and taller. That had to be where the count was. He also noted how much smaller the count’s army was compared to his.
But the fact that the count was here at all was problematic. Did the Prince-Bishop of Brixen forego the secret alliance? Did he betray him?
Whatever the case was, the battle had to be won first, then he would investigate the truth of the matter.
-VB-
A/N: next chapter, Hans shows Frederick exactly why he, a peasant, was able to become a count on martial merit