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Chapter ExcerptS
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CHAPTER 1
Destiny
Château du Verger
Seiches commune, Anjou region, Kingdom of France
(April 22nd, 1513)
Seiches commune, Anjou region, Kingdom of France
(April 22nd, 1513)
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Pierre de Rohan coughed, a wet fluid-like sound accompanying his cough as he held a hand and cloth to his mouth. His weak and frail body lay in his bed, a lone servant tending to his needs as a glass of wine was besides his bed on the nightstand. In these last days, the window by which his bed was positioned had allowed him the rare freedom he now had to look out upon the beauty of both his castle and the beauty inside and outside of its courtyard. Yet today, as was with his life these last years, rain and darkness robbed him of even that little last remaining mercy of beauty.
“Pourquoi êtes-vous venu?” 14 he asked in French, “Il ne leur faudra sûrement pas longtemps pour découvrir que vous êtes parti.” 15
“Pourquoi êtes-vous venu?” 14 he asked in French, “Il ne leur faudra sûrement pas longtemps pour découvrir que vous êtes parti.” 15
14 “Why did you come?”
15 “Surely it will not take them long to find out you are gone.”
15 “Surely it will not take them long to find out you are gone.”
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“You taught me everything I needed to know about the Château of Amboise. Every secret tunnel, every hidden door. Guard rotations, patrols, everything.” 16
Pierre smiled as he turned from the darkened rainy skies of night, thunderstorms in the distance, and looked to Francis, Duke of Valois and heir to the throne of France, “I taught you more than just ways to escape a castle.” 17
The young 18-year-old duke smiled, the two men sharing in the language of the Englishmen 18 to keep eavesdropping ears at bay, “You did and that is why I am here.”
Pierre smiled as he turned from the darkened rainy skies of night, thunderstorms in the distance, and looked to Francis, Duke of Valois and heir to the throne of France, “I taught you more than just ways to escape a castle.” 17
The young 18-year-old duke smiled, the two men sharing in the language of the Englishmen 18 to keep eavesdropping ears at bay, “You did and that is why I am here.”
16 Realistically, it would have been impossible for Francis I, then Duke of Valois, to escape unnoticed. Between his mother, his governor appointed by the king, multiple tutors & others, as well as his own personal bodyguard, there was always someone at Francis’ side throughout the day and night. This would continue into his kingship, Francis I almost never being alone. (pg. 16-20, 95; Frieda, 2018)
17 In fear of Louise’s influence in French politics and his---King Louis XII---most temporary position in all but name as a regent for her son’s (Francis I) future rule without a male heir of his own, Louis appointed Anne of Brittany’s cousin Pierre de Rohan (Seigneur de Gié and Marshal of France) to act as guardian to Louise and her family. Alongside Cardinal of Amboise, de Gié was the second most powerful man in France, second only to the king himself. Years later in 1504, a scandal involving de Gié and an attempt at the French throne during a period at which King Louis XII’s death would seem most certain from poor health would leave de Gié a broken and forgotten man; to this day, the allegations against de Gié are mostly dubious at best, the man being most likely set up by his rivals. (pg. 16, 31; Frieda, 2018)
18 There is no evidence that Francis or Pierre knew English. Thus, this is used for purely storytelling purposes.
17 In fear of Louise’s influence in French politics and his---King Louis XII---most temporary position in all but name as a regent for her son’s (Francis I) future rule without a male heir of his own, Louis appointed Anne of Brittany’s cousin Pierre de Rohan (Seigneur de Gié and Marshal of France) to act as guardian to Louise and her family. Alongside Cardinal of Amboise, de Gié was the second most powerful man in France, second only to the king himself. Years later in 1504, a scandal involving de Gié and an attempt at the French throne during a period at which King Louis XII’s death would seem most certain from poor health would leave de Gié a broken and forgotten man; to this day, the allegations against de Gié are mostly dubious at best, the man being most likely set up by his rivals. (pg. 16, 31; Frieda, 2018)
18 There is no evidence that Francis or Pierre knew English. Thus, this is used for purely storytelling purposes.
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“You risk too much,” Pierre cited his former charge, “Even for the heir to the French throne.”
The older man’s returned wet cough and sudden body shutter under the bed covers reminded Francis of the realities of this short life, “It is close, is it not?”
Pierre nodded, “It is. I will not see tomorrow, by God’s will.”
Francis lowered his eyes.
Pierre noticed Francis’ downturned face and smiled with a chuckle, catching the young duke’s attention, “Do not mourn me. Instead, I celebrate your success!”
Francis looked up to his former and years earlier secret mentor, “How so?”
“The Libérer la France!” 19 the dying man proclaimed boldly as he cupped a weak hand over Francis I’s forearm, “Through you my king, France will become free!”
Francis shook his head, “I am not the king.”
Pierre’s eyes grew wide as he squeezed Francis’ forearm with what strength he had left, gaining Francis’ attention, “You are my king! And you will be the people’s king! Let them see you. Touch you. Love you. The people will
The older man’s returned wet cough and sudden body shutter under the bed covers reminded Francis of the realities of this short life, “It is close, is it not?”
Pierre nodded, “It is. I will not see tomorrow, by God’s will.”
Francis lowered his eyes.
Pierre noticed Francis’ downturned face and smiled with a chuckle, catching the young duke’s attention, “Do not mourn me. Instead, I celebrate your success!”
Francis looked up to his former and years earlier secret mentor, “How so?”
“The Libérer la France!” 19 the dying man proclaimed boldly as he cupped a weak hand over Francis I’s forearm, “Through you my king, France will become free!”
Francis shook his head, “I am not the king.”
Pierre’s eyes grew wide as he squeezed Francis’ forearm with what strength he had left, gaining Francis’ attention, “You are my king! And you will be the people’s king! Let them see you. Touch you. Love you. The people will
19 Liberate France
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follow you if you allow them to do so. Louis XII is but a regent in king’s clothing!”
Francis felt a welling of hope for the future of his kingdom and his face reflected that bright future. Pierre’s dying face showed rays of life again. For a moment, all seemed right in France.
But the weight of the current political environment and that of the daunting task ahead of him quickly crushed Francis’ spirits. He shook his head again, his eyes downcast, “Il fedele eterno di Roma.” 20
Pierre understood. He understood the Faithful Eternal all too well. He knew, better than anybody else, that the future of France lay in dismantling the strangle hold of the Faithful Eternal.
“You will go to open war with the Faithful Eternal,” Pierre said determinedly, “This is unavoidable. The Libérer la France will be your strength and their loyalty is yours, now as Duke of Valois and later as King of France. No harm will come to you through the Les Yeux Du Roi 21, for their strong swords will be both your attack and your defense, as it is now and as it will be later. Francis of Paola had prophesied your birth; this is your destiny: the freedom of France.”
Francis felt a welling of hope for the future of his kingdom and his face reflected that bright future. Pierre’s dying face showed rays of life again. For a moment, all seemed right in France.
But the weight of the current political environment and that of the daunting task ahead of him quickly crushed Francis’ spirits. He shook his head again, his eyes downcast, “Il fedele eterno di Roma.” 20
Pierre understood. He understood the Faithful Eternal all too well. He knew, better than anybody else, that the future of France lay in dismantling the strangle hold of the Faithful Eternal.
“You will go to open war with the Faithful Eternal,” Pierre said determinedly, “This is unavoidable. The Libérer la France will be your strength and their loyalty is yours, now as Duke of Valois and later as King of France. No harm will come to you through the Les Yeux Du Roi 21, for their strong swords will be both your attack and your defense, as it is now and as it will be later. Francis of Paola had prophesied your birth; this is your destiny: the freedom of France.”
20 The Faithful Eternal of Rome
21 The King’s Eyes
21 The King’s Eyes
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“What is to be my first move?” Francis asked.
“You must regain Milan and hold it. Do not lose it. All depends on holding Milan. 22 From there, you can take the war to the Faithful Eternal in their homeland on your timetable, on your terms, in the Italian peninsula. Kings and queens will bow to you in time. Secure France’s sovereign lands, free her state institutions from the Faithful Eternal. Protect your people. Prosper and grow for the future. These are the last commands I give you.”
Pierre’s body shook as another round of wet coughs took hold of his last moments on this earth. He released the grip
“You must regain Milan and hold it. Do not lose it. All depends on holding Milan. 22 From there, you can take the war to the Faithful Eternal in their homeland on your timetable, on your terms, in the Italian peninsula. Kings and queens will bow to you in time. Secure France’s sovereign lands, free her state institutions from the Faithful Eternal. Protect your people. Prosper and grow for the future. These are the last commands I give you.”
Pierre’s body shook as another round of wet coughs took hold of his last moments on this earth. He released the grip
22 “As Francis started to prepare for war against Milan in the first days of his reign, he was continuing a tradition begun by his predecessor. A French claim to the duchy had been established by Louis’ grandmother (and great-grandmother to Francis), Valentina Visconti of Milan’s former ruling dynasty. The duchy continued to be important for strategic reasons as a geographical gateway to the Italian peninsula; the successful conquest of Milan would make an invasion of Naples considerable easier. As a territorial acquisition, the duchy was one of the largest and most prosperous in Italy, enjoying extensive political and diplomatic influence throughout the Continent. Italy’s wealth had provided a lifeline to many bankrupt monarchs, to say nothing of their courtiers. The Italian states had maintained an uneasy peace among themselves since the middle of the fifteenth century, and the unspoken fear was the arrival of a powerful foreign king with territorial ambitions. This fear had been realised in 1494 when Charles VIII and his distant cousin Louis XII led a massive French army into the peninsula…by 1515, Milan had been conquered, lost, reconquered, and then lost once again, with the various reversals of military fortune taking place at near-dizzying speed.” (pg. 53; Frieda, 2018)
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on Francis’ forearm and put the cloth over his mouth as the coughs, this time, kept coming.
Francis put a worried hand on Pierre’s shoulder, “Pierre…”
“Votre Grâce,” 23 the woman servant said in French as she came from the corner of the room to adjust the covers for her master, “Il ne va pas bien. Il a besoin de repos. S’il vous plaît.” 24
“Libérez la France!” 25 Pierre managed in French as his strained face looked to Francis as he put a now trembling hand back on Francis’ forearm; the dying man smiled weakly, “Mon roi.” 26
Francis put a worried hand on Pierre’s shoulder, “Pierre…”
“Votre Grâce,” 23 the woman servant said in French as she came from the corner of the room to adjust the covers for her master, “Il ne va pas bien. Il a besoin de repos. S’il vous plaît.” 24
“Libérez la France!” 25 Pierre managed in French as his strained face looked to Francis as he put a now trembling hand back on Francis’ forearm; the dying man smiled weakly, “Mon roi.” 26
23 “Your Grace”
24 “He is not well. He needs his rest. Please.”
25 “Free France!”
26 “My king.”
24 “He is not well. He needs his rest. Please.”
25 “Free France!”
26 “My king.”
CHAPTER 8
Fog of War
Forest; outside of Rethel, Kingdom of France
(Six days later, May 9th, 1515; night)
(Six days later, May 9th, 1515; night)
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Giovanni looked up suddenly as the form of a Elegante Morte 102 came into view from the pitch darkness.
“Well?” Salzano asked from where he stood leaning up against a tree with his leather mug in hand, Bakker taking a break some feet away with another Italian mercenary, each snacking on food from pouches and taking sips of water, while the last Elegant Death mercenary stood by the horses.
“They are moving slow,” the Margaret-aligned mercenary said in rough English as he knelt beside Bakker and company, while also sharing his attention with the men standing, “No doubt wishing to not draw attention to themselves. We have easily and quickly made up the ground. The information Bakker gained at the last several villages was indeed correct.”
“Well?” Salzano asked from where he stood leaning up against a tree with his leather mug in hand, Bakker taking a break some feet away with another Italian mercenary, each snacking on food from pouches and taking sips of water, while the last Elegant Death mercenary stood by the horses.
“They are moving slow,” the Margaret-aligned mercenary said in rough English as he knelt beside Bakker and company, while also sharing his attention with the men standing, “No doubt wishing to not draw attention to themselves. We have easily and quickly made up the ground. The information Bakker gained at the last several villages was indeed correct.”
102 Elegant Death
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“Where is Lancaster?” Giovanni asked, noticing the Englishman had not brought up the rear for the Elegant Death mercenary and was not with him.
“I have left him behind to keep watch over their encampment. We will need to be alerted to their plans and be able to move when they move.”
“Mattina,” 103 the Elegant Death mercenary said from besides the horses, “Attacca presto mentre si preparano per il pasto mattutino e sono impreparati.” 104
The man’s English-speaking counterpart nodded, “My thoughts too. They have two sentries overlooking the camp. I will assume in shifts.”
“How many are we talking about here?” Bakker asked, suddenly alert to an imbalance in power.
“Eleven,” the mercenary replied matter of fact, “Ten swords and Jean de Marnix.”
“Mercenaries?” Giovanni asked.
The other man shook his head, “I do not know. They are well trained whoever they are, but I have not seen their colors before. They wear flamboyant clothing like that of the Landsknechts, yet it is all blue upper torso with golden pants tucked into black boots; a golden salamander
“I have left him behind to keep watch over their encampment. We will need to be alerted to their plans and be able to move when they move.”
“Mattina,” 103 the Elegant Death mercenary said from besides the horses, “Attacca presto mentre si preparano per il pasto mattutino e sono impreparati.” 104
The man’s English-speaking counterpart nodded, “My thoughts too. They have two sentries overlooking the camp. I will assume in shifts.”
“How many are we talking about here?” Bakker asked, suddenly alert to an imbalance in power.
“Eleven,” the mercenary replied matter of fact, “Ten swords and Jean de Marnix.”
“Mercenaries?” Giovanni asked.
The other man shook his head, “I do not know. They are well trained whoever they are, but I have not seen their colors before. They wear flamboyant clothing like that of the Landsknechts, yet it is all blue upper torso with golden pants tucked into black boots; a golden salamander
103 “Morning.”
104 “Attack early as they prepare for morning meal and are unprepared.”
104 “Attack early as they prepare for morning meal and are unprepared.”
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surrounded by golden fire on a red background with a golden crown above the salamander is upon their sword just above the grip and cross-guard on the blade itself.”
“The salamander is the symbol of the new French king, Francis I,” 105 Bakker stated, “He assumed power in January after Louis XII’s death. 106 Some say Francis’ kingship is a gift from God, foretold by a prophet before Francis’ birth to his mother. 107 Because of the prophecy, some say Francis is ordained by God the Almighty Himself to carry out God’s will here on earth.”
The Italian mercenary sitting next to Bakker chuckled, “Tutti i reali pensano che siano doni di Dio. Questo Francesco e le sue truppe non saranno diversi.” 108
The English-speaking Elegant Death mercenary added with caution, “I have heard of this French prophecy.”
“Prophecy or not, we should be careful nonetheless,” Giovanni said, “These soldiers, whoever they are, risk a war with the Habsburg Netherlands over the capture of Jean de Marnix. They would not have been sent to take Jean to France if they were not ready to defend themselves and their cargo to the dying breath.”
“The salamander is the symbol of the new French king, Francis I,” 105 Bakker stated, “He assumed power in January after Louis XII’s death. 106 Some say Francis’ kingship is a gift from God, foretold by a prophet before Francis’ birth to his mother. 107 Because of the prophecy, some say Francis is ordained by God the Almighty Himself to carry out God’s will here on earth.”
The Italian mercenary sitting next to Bakker chuckled, “Tutti i reali pensano che siano doni di Dio. Questo Francesco e le sue truppe non saranno diversi.” 108
The English-speaking Elegant Death mercenary added with caution, “I have heard of this French prophecy.”
“Prophecy or not, we should be careful nonetheless,” Giovanni said, “These soldiers, whoever they are, risk a war with the Habsburg Netherlands over the capture of Jean de Marnix. They would not have been sent to take Jean to France if they were not ready to defend themselves and their cargo to the dying breath.”
105 pg. 19-20 (Frieda, 2018)
106 pg. 45-46 (Frieda, 2018)
107 pg. 7-9 (Frieda, 2018)
108 “All royals think they are gifts from God. This Francis and his troops will be no different.”
106 pg. 45-46 (Frieda, 2018)
107 pg. 7-9 (Frieda, 2018)
108 “All royals think they are gifts from God. This Francis and his troops will be no different.”
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The English-speaking Elegant Death mercenary nodded, “On this fellow Italian, I agree with you.”
**
Next morning, May 10th
Forest; outside of Rethel, Kingdom of France
It had rained a few hours prior, leaving a deep and unforgiving fog that clung to the ground in the early morning hours.
“Sacré brouillard.,” 109 grumbled one of the French soldiers as he collected up the campsite.
“Arrêtez de vous plaindre!” 110 replied another one of the soldiers as he worked near him doing the same task, “Au moins, nous n’avons pas besoin de voir votre visage!” 111
**
Next morning, May 10th
Forest; outside of Rethel, Kingdom of France
It had rained a few hours prior, leaving a deep and unforgiving fog that clung to the ground in the early morning hours.
“Sacré brouillard.,” 109 grumbled one of the French soldiers as he collected up the campsite.
“Arrêtez de vous plaindre!” 110 replied another one of the soldiers as he worked near him doing the same task, “Au moins, nous n’avons pas besoin de voir votre visage!” 111
109 “Damn fog.”
110 “Stop your complaining!”
111 “At least we do not have to see your face!”
110 “Stop your complaining!”
111 “At least we do not have to see your face!”
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A crackle of laughter erupted from around those gathered, most of the soldiers in various states of dress; one soldier tended to the campfire and prepared food for the group, while two others stood guard over their charge of Jean de Marnix, and two more prepared the horses for travel. Two others stood guard at various points around the camp, while the last soldier---the commander---was finishing putting his attire together for the day’s journey ahead as he stood by the campfire to help prepare breakfast.
“Jacques se plaint comme un Anglais!” 112 the commander barked as he finished tightening the long above-knee black light leather armor vest to his body via the three straps in front. A mustard-yellow to golden-colored leather shoulder spaulder covered his left shoulder (opposite of his sword arm), being secured across the chest under the vest and surged out the open shoulder slit. The dark blue arm sleeves of an equally dark blue shirt under the vest showed themselves through the shoulder slits, covering down to the wrists in a flamboyant fashion. Mustard-yellow to golden-colored pants ran their way down into high leather black boots, where a boot knife was in each boot with red leather wrappings on the grips of each knife.
The group roared in laugher.
The commander threw the brown baldric over his leather vest next, followed by a brown belt with two brown pouches on the right of the belt (a long dagger was at the
“Jacques se plaint comme un Anglais!” 112 the commander barked as he finished tightening the long above-knee black light leather armor vest to his body via the three straps in front. A mustard-yellow to golden-colored leather shoulder spaulder covered his left shoulder (opposite of his sword arm), being secured across the chest under the vest and surged out the open shoulder slit. The dark blue arm sleeves of an equally dark blue shirt under the vest showed themselves through the shoulder slits, covering down to the wrists in a flamboyant fashion. Mustard-yellow to golden-colored pants ran their way down into high leather black boots, where a boot knife was in each boot with red leather wrappings on the grips of each knife.
The group roared in laugher.
The commander threw the brown baldric over his leather vest next, followed by a brown belt with two brown pouches on the right of the belt (a long dagger was at the
112 “Jacques complains like an Englishman!”
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small of his back on the belt in a black scabbard, its red leather wrapped grip towards the left of his body longways). The baldric ended with a black scabbard holding a hand-and-a-half sword to his left hip with a red leather wrapped grip (the sword had a golden salamander surrounded by golden fire on a red background with a golden crown above the salamander crafted into the blade of the sword above the grip and cross-guard), while a pair of mustard-yellow to golden-colored leather vambraces covered the blue flamboyant arm sleeves (the same symbol as the sword blade was crafted into the leather on each vambrace); a pair of black leather gloves were folded neatly over the baldric just above where the belt and sword scabbard crossed each other.
The commander next grabbed the brown waterskin on the ground next to him and threw it across his torso, the skin resting to the right of his body from the leather strap across his chest. Then the solider near him handed him his long red cloak with hood, which the commander swung over his torso and secured at an angle above his right shoulder and under his left shoulder with a black leather strap across his chest; the hood hung backwards on his back, while the cloak made sure to emphasize both the hand-and-a-half sword and shoulder pauldron, showing them both clearly.
A blue bandana encased the top of his skull, while his curly long black hair escaped the bandana below, his equally impressive black mustache and full black beard pointing towards the end being highlighted against his fair skin. Next, the soldier near the campfire (who was his personal
The commander next grabbed the brown waterskin on the ground next to him and threw it across his torso, the skin resting to the right of his body from the leather strap across his chest. Then the solider near him handed him his long red cloak with hood, which the commander swung over his torso and secured at an angle above his right shoulder and under his left shoulder with a black leather strap across his chest; the hood hung backwards on his back, while the cloak made sure to emphasize both the hand-and-a-half sword and shoulder pauldron, showing them both clearly.
A blue bandana encased the top of his skull, while his curly long black hair escaped the bandana below, his equally impressive black mustache and full black beard pointing towards the end being highlighted against his fair skin. Next, the soldier near the campfire (who was his personal
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aide) handed the commander his wheellock pistol 113 xix , which he secured into the holster on the right side of his belt, in front of his pouches and in a reverse draw for his left hand. The pistol was black wood and silver metal with golden highlights, including a silver ball at the back of the grip and a golden trigger. Lastly, the aide gave the commander his black wide-brim hat with a large red feather in the hat.
The commander smiled smugly and boasted out-loud, “Toujours plus beau qu’un chien anglais!” 114
Like their commander, all the soldiers were dressed alike, all sharing the same color scheme, equipment, and weapons. Each of their Fresian horses---bred and trained for war---were further equipped with a saddle to handle each soldier’s bedroll, small tent, and a camp axe across the back of the saddle, while three pouches hung off the right side with a crossbow, extra bolts, and a wooden targe shield (the shield was covered in a tough cowhide dyed black nailed to the shield with silver nails; a silver metal shield boss was at the center); a halberd and a arquebus 115 xx were
The commander smiled smugly and boasted out-loud, “Toujours plus beau qu’un chien anglais!” 114
Like their commander, all the soldiers were dressed alike, all sharing the same color scheme, equipment, and weapons. Each of their Fresian horses---bred and trained for war---were further equipped with a saddle to handle each soldier’s bedroll, small tent, and a camp axe across the back of the saddle, while three pouches hung off the right side with a crossbow, extra bolts, and a wooden targe shield (the shield was covered in a tough cowhide dyed black nailed to the shield with silver nails; a silver metal shield boss was at the center); a halberd and a arquebus 115 xx were
113 It is largely believed that the first wheellock pistols emerged around 1534. For the purposes of this book, that historical fact has been loosely applied to note the early 1500s for storytelling purposes.
114 “Always better looking than an English dog!”
115 The Arquebus first appeared by the end of the 15th century, being an evolution of the handgonnes from the late 14th century. - Pg. 13, 14; McLachlan (Landsknechts), 2020
114 “Always better looking than an English dog!”
115 The Arquebus first appeared by the end of the 15th century, being an evolution of the handgonnes from the late 14th century. - Pg. 13, 14; McLachlan (Landsknechts), 2020
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strapped on the left side of the saddle, the polearm and firearm being one on-top of the other and wrapped in leather for protection from the weather, only the opposite ends of both weapons showing.
116 xxi And like their commander, the soldiers shared their disdain for the Englishman and cheered at their commander’s excessive pride in dress and confidence.
“If only the English were your true enemy,” Jean de Marnix said in the Englishmen’s tongue from where he sat several feet sitting up against a tree (his wrists tied together with rope behind his back), guarded by two soldiers standing next to each other with their halberds in a gloved hand with the points angled away from their body.
The French commander smiled as he slowly turned towards his charge and closed the gap between the campfire and Jean, spreading out his arms as he did so. “He speaks finally!” the Frenchman replied in English, in a thick French accent; the commander looked up to the heavens, beckoning with his open arms, “It is a miracle!” The Frenchman turned his attention from the sky and the canopy of the trees hiding it and back to Jean as he crouched before his captive and asked with a smug look, “Is it not?”
Jean smiled thinly but said nothing.
116 xxi And like their commander, the soldiers shared their disdain for the Englishman and cheered at their commander’s excessive pride in dress and confidence.
“If only the English were your true enemy,” Jean de Marnix said in the Englishmen’s tongue from where he sat several feet sitting up against a tree (his wrists tied together with rope behind his back), guarded by two soldiers standing next to each other with their halberds in a gloved hand with the points angled away from their body.
The French commander smiled as he slowly turned towards his charge and closed the gap between the campfire and Jean, spreading out his arms as he did so. “He speaks finally!” the Frenchman replied in English, in a thick French accent; the commander looked up to the heavens, beckoning with his open arms, “It is a miracle!” The Frenchman turned his attention from the sky and the canopy of the trees hiding it and back to Jean as he crouched before his captive and asked with a smug look, “Is it not?”
Jean smiled thinly but said nothing.
116 I ensured that the Fresian horse breed could handle the weight of both the rider and the extra equipment and weapons. Please see reference xxi for more information.
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“Done talking already, my good and enlightened spymaster?”
“Vous assumez beaucoup,” 117 Jean replied in French.
The commander chuckled, getting up, and started pacing in front of Jean as he spoke, “Our good hospitality to you has gained your cooperation.”
“Did it?”
The commander stopped, looked at Jean with disgust, then continued pacing, “Did it not? What we have ate, you have eaten. When we rest, you have rested. Your wrists are only tied. I would say, for a prisoner, that is good treatment.”
“Why am I your prisoner?”
The commander chuckled, “For such an enlightened spymaster, you are not good at acting the fool!”
“I find getting to the point being the most important asset a person can bring to any conversation.”
There. Jean smiled inwardly at the commander’s slight change in facial expression and physical stance. This French commander was a blowhard and would not be able to resist the challenge to prove himself the better of the two men.
“Vous assumez beaucoup,” 117 Jean replied in French.
The commander chuckled, getting up, and started pacing in front of Jean as he spoke, “Our good hospitality to you has gained your cooperation.”
“Did it?”
The commander stopped, looked at Jean with disgust, then continued pacing, “Did it not? What we have ate, you have eaten. When we rest, you have rested. Your wrists are only tied. I would say, for a prisoner, that is good treatment.”
“Why am I your prisoner?”
The commander chuckled, “For such an enlightened spymaster, you are not good at acting the fool!”
“I find getting to the point being the most important asset a person can bring to any conversation.”
There. Jean smiled inwardly at the commander’s slight change in facial expression and physical stance. This French commander was a blowhard and would not be able to resist the challenge to prove himself the better of the two men.
117 “You assume a lot.”
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The commander smiled as he went back to pacing in front of Jean and his guards, “Then let us get to the point! Your Duke of Burgundy--- Prince d’Espaigne---is set to gain too much power. You are the prize for which Margaret will do anything to get you back, for your knowledge alone is a liability to the future of the Habsburg dynasty.”
Such information Jean was aware of. He knew he was being used as a bargaining chip for political leverage. On the other hand, if the information he was painstakingly able to piece together from his own spies and sources within the French court and other institutions within France over the years was remotely correct, then---if he was right---his capture went far beyond trivial kingships and political payoffs. And that would be concerning.
“He is not my duke,” Jean corrected, adding, “Margaret of Austria is my duchess.”
“That would be treason, spymaster, for such words. The Habsburg Netherlands is no longer under her control. And soon her position and those with her will be rendered useless.”
“She was removed unfairly by the Frenchman William de Croy, Lord of Chievres.”
There. A pause.
A slight look from the French commander, but no words. Jean could tell that de Croy’s name was known to the commander, which meant this Frenchman was highly placed and probably close to the ear of Francis I. Jean had assumed as such already by the soldiers’ equipment and
Such information Jean was aware of. He knew he was being used as a bargaining chip for political leverage. On the other hand, if the information he was painstakingly able to piece together from his own spies and sources within the French court and other institutions within France over the years was remotely correct, then---if he was right---his capture went far beyond trivial kingships and political payoffs. And that would be concerning.
“He is not my duke,” Jean corrected, adding, “Margaret of Austria is my duchess.”
“That would be treason, spymaster, for such words. The Habsburg Netherlands is no longer under her control. And soon her position and those with her will be rendered useless.”
“She was removed unfairly by the Frenchman William de Croy, Lord of Chievres.”
There. A pause.
A slight look from the French commander, but no words. Jean could tell that de Croy’s name was known to the commander, which meant this Frenchman was highly placed and probably close to the ear of Francis I. Jean had assumed as such already by the soldiers’ equipment and
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clothing, but a physical acknowledgement removed any doubt. This also confirmed what Jean already knew: a spy was in the court of Prince d’Espaigne 118 , either working with William de Croy to send communications to the French court in Paris or, in a true act of espionage for the ages, the spy was working without the knowledge of William de Croy and thus providing the French with a “Plan B” to de Croy’s role. Clever.
Either way, Jean knew what he had to do in the moment: he continued to fish for the commander’s knowledge, “William de Croy is a French agent no doubt, a backdoor into the Habsburg empire through the young mind of Prince d’Espaigne, surely to be the next Holy Roman Emperor. If Francis the First cannot have the Imperial throne by election---or through my capture and political payoff---when the aging Imperialist, Maximilian, dies, then the French will control the empire from the shadows. Such information is known to me and those I entrust in my inner
Either way, Jean knew what he had to do in the moment: he continued to fish for the commander’s knowledge, “William de Croy is a French agent no doubt, a backdoor into the Habsburg empire through the young mind of Prince d’Espaigne, surely to be the next Holy Roman Emperor. If Francis the First cannot have the Imperial throne by election---or through my capture and political payoff---when the aging Imperialist, Maximilian, dies, then the French will control the empire from the shadows. Such information is known to me and those I entrust in my inner
118 Pg. 56 (Frieda, 2018)
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circle. The Frenchman William de Croy’s schemes are clear, even to a blindman.” 119 120 121 xxii
The French commander seemed irritated.
Good.
“You will not trap me, spymaster!” the commander barked suddenly as he stopped before Jean, knowing that any more discussion would be a step too far; it was clear this Jean de Marnix knew things. Too many things. “You will go to Amboise, to be before our glorious and honorable king, Francis the First. There, you will provide the information our king wants.”
The French commander seemed irritated.
Good.
“You will not trap me, spymaster!” the commander barked suddenly as he stopped before Jean, knowing that any more discussion would be a step too far; it was clear this Jean de Marnix knew things. Too many things. “You will go to Amboise, to be before our glorious and honorable king, Francis the First. There, you will provide the information our king wants.”
119 This dialogue is first mentioned as a possibility in pg. 130-133 of No Tears: Northern Company (2021).
120 In No Tears: Northern Company (2021), I mentioned on pg. 133 (footnote #85) that I had “no historical evidence” that William de Croy was ruling as proxy through Charles (Prince d’Espaigne) for French ambitions. This was factually correct with the information I had at the time. This footnote is corrected by Emperor: A New Life of Charles V (Parker, 2021), where William de Croy was very clearly (historically) influencing and controlling Charles while he was Duke of Burgundy (1506-1555) and King of Spain (1516-1556), as well as lobbying for heavy French favors from the young Imperial duke, even as far as “grudgingly” assisting Charles in April 1518 (pg. 89; Parker, 2021) in the process of becoming the future Holy Roman Emperor in 1519 over the French King, Francis I. Please see footnote #122 below for references.
121 Pg. 24, 38, 38-43, 49, 63, 63-65, 70, 70-71, 81-82, 85, 89, 109-110, 114-115, 126, 128-129 (Parker, 2021).
120 In No Tears: Northern Company (2021), I mentioned on pg. 133 (footnote #85) that I had “no historical evidence” that William de Croy was ruling as proxy through Charles (Prince d’Espaigne) for French ambitions. This was factually correct with the information I had at the time. This footnote is corrected by Emperor: A New Life of Charles V (Parker, 2021), where William de Croy was very clearly (historically) influencing and controlling Charles while he was Duke of Burgundy (1506-1555) and King of Spain (1516-1556), as well as lobbying for heavy French favors from the young Imperial duke, even as far as “grudgingly” assisting Charles in April 1518 (pg. 89; Parker, 2021) in the process of becoming the future Holy Roman Emperor in 1519 over the French King, Francis I. Please see footnote #122 below for references.
121 Pg. 24, 38, 38-43, 49, 63, 63-65, 70, 70-71, 81-82, 85, 89, 109-110, 114-115, 126, 128-129 (Parker, 2021).
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The commander may think he had stopped the conversation on his terms, but Jean had already gained what he needed to know. The commander was now an asset to be used.
“And if I refuse?” Jean asked.
“Then you will die.”
Now to see if his information throughout the years was correct.
“Is that what Pierre de Rohan would command?”
The anger that flashed across the commander’s face was all Jean needed. But the backhand from the Frenchman across his face only illustrated what he already knew!
“Vous ne prononcerez pas son nom glorieux, vous le cochon des Habsbourg!” 122
So it was.
**
“And if I refuse?” Jean asked.
“Then you will die.”
Now to see if his information throughout the years was correct.
“Is that what Pierre de Rohan would command?”
The anger that flashed across the commander’s face was all Jean needed. But the backhand from the Frenchman across his face only illustrated what he already knew!
“Vous ne prononcerez pas son nom glorieux, vous le cochon des Habsbourg!” 122
So it was.
**
122 “You will not speak his glorious name, you Habsburg pig!”
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The soft laughter, the sound of horses, and the general ease at which everything sounded through the fog was a good sign for Giovanni Salzano as he rushed quietly in a crouch to the next tree! He looked to his left through the dense fog that still lingered, its dense white mass refusing to give any ground in these early morning hours. There, as a ghostly form just like his, was one of the Elegant Death mercenaries. He looked to his right: nothing.
All around the encampment the mercenaries of Northern Company and their Habsburg-aligned Italian comrades were getting into position. From three sides they would attack: Salzano and one of the Elegant Death mercenaries from one side, Bakker and another Italian to the left of Salzano’s group, and Lancaster and another Italian from the opposite side of Bakker and company to the right of Giovanni. The fog prevented any long-range missiles from being employed by Lancaster or the crossbows by the Italian mercenaries, but that would not negate their usefulness in full. While the fog prevented long range attacks, it likewise prevented the French troops from seeing them, giving the attackers an element of surprise.
No signal would be given. The fog prevented a timed, coordinated attack against superior numbers. While Jerry had mapped the locations of the French and their camp layout the night previous, the French’s earlier than expected rise to the new day’s challenges made such a reconnaissance now useless. It came down, simply, to luck and the skill of the individual warrior.
All around the encampment the mercenaries of Northern Company and their Habsburg-aligned Italian comrades were getting into position. From three sides they would attack: Salzano and one of the Elegant Death mercenaries from one side, Bakker and another Italian to the left of Salzano’s group, and Lancaster and another Italian from the opposite side of Bakker and company to the right of Giovanni. The fog prevented any long-range missiles from being employed by Lancaster or the crossbows by the Italian mercenaries, but that would not negate their usefulness in full. While the fog prevented long range attacks, it likewise prevented the French troops from seeing them, giving the attackers an element of surprise.
No signal would be given. The fog prevented a timed, coordinated attack against superior numbers. While Jerry had mapped the locations of the French and their camp layout the night previous, the French’s earlier than expected rise to the new day’s challenges made such a reconnaissance now useless. It came down, simply, to luck and the skill of the individual warrior.
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“Vous voilà, votre chien des Habsbourg!” 123 barked a voice in French, alerting both Giovanni and his comrade to the nearness of the situation. The voice was not too close, yet not too far away. That gave, Giovanni figured, several yards at best.
“Comment puis-je manger avec les mains attachées derrière le dos?” 124 came another voice, this one Giovanni had heard before. It was Jean de Marnix!
Giovanni moved up a few more yards and stopped at the next tree. There was a sigh of frustration somewhere in that white fog beyond.
“Desserrez ses cordes!” 125 ordered that first French voice, “Mais gardez un oeil sur lui!” 126
There was some form of acknowledgement that Giovanni could not make out, but he was sure there were two voices he heard. Then he heard a pair of boots walk away; he assumed they belonged to the commanding voice. Ready to move to the next tree to get closer, Giovanni suddenly stopped when a form of a fully equipped soldier materialized through the fog like a ghost!
The man was clearly unaware of his surroundings in the dense fog as he whistled quietly to himself, a crossbow in his grip and across the front of his body. The Frenchman’s
“Comment puis-je manger avec les mains attachées derrière le dos?” 124 came another voice, this one Giovanni had heard before. It was Jean de Marnix!
Giovanni moved up a few more yards and stopped at the next tree. There was a sigh of frustration somewhere in that white fog beyond.
“Desserrez ses cordes!” 125 ordered that first French voice, “Mais gardez un oeil sur lui!” 126
There was some form of acknowledgement that Giovanni could not make out, but he was sure there were two voices he heard. Then he heard a pair of boots walk away; he assumed they belonged to the commanding voice. Ready to move to the next tree to get closer, Giovanni suddenly stopped when a form of a fully equipped soldier materialized through the fog like a ghost!
The man was clearly unaware of his surroundings in the dense fog as he whistled quietly to himself, a crossbow in his grip and across the front of his body. The Frenchman’s
123 “Here you are, you Habsburg dog!”
124 “How can I eat with my hands tied behind my back?”
125 “Loosen his ropes!”
126 “But keep an eye on him!”
124 “How can I eat with my hands tied behind my back?”
125 “Loosen his ropes!”
126 “But keep an eye on him!”
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eyes pierced through the fog the best they could, as he took a few steps forward in between Giovanni and his Italian counterpart!
Giovanni shared a glance towards the Elegant Death mercenary and shook his head as he went for his throat blade in his left leather vambrace. Adjusting his body and remembering the perfecting knife throwing Babette had taught him, Giovanni flipped the blade around in his hand, aimed, and threw! He immediately got up and darted quietly to the Frenchman who struggled with the blade in his throat, Giovanni putting a hand over his mouth as the Frenchman tried to make noise to alert his comrades to danger! Forcing the blade deeper into the man’s throat, Giovanni forced the French soldier to the ground in a short struggle and soon thereafter the Frenchman stopped moving all together.
Giovanni glanced towards his Italian comrade, who was looking around and alert to any would be alarms of any unwelcome noise, then looked around himself, slowly taking his hand off the dead man’s mouth and then wiping the blood off the blade---he withdrew from the man’s throat---on the soldier’s clothing before putting it back into the vambrace’s scabbard and securing it. Adjusting his hat to make sure it was back on snug, Giovanni got up and motioned for his comrade to move forward, this time Salzano making it another two trees before he could see the vague forms of three bodies in the fog ahead, two clearly armed and one sitting on the ground.
Just as before, Giovanni withdrew a smaller weapon, this one his hunting knife from the scabbard on his right
Giovanni shared a glance towards the Elegant Death mercenary and shook his head as he went for his throat blade in his left leather vambrace. Adjusting his body and remembering the perfecting knife throwing Babette had taught him, Giovanni flipped the blade around in his hand, aimed, and threw! He immediately got up and darted quietly to the Frenchman who struggled with the blade in his throat, Giovanni putting a hand over his mouth as the Frenchman tried to make noise to alert his comrades to danger! Forcing the blade deeper into the man’s throat, Giovanni forced the French soldier to the ground in a short struggle and soon thereafter the Frenchman stopped moving all together.
Giovanni glanced towards his Italian comrade, who was looking around and alert to any would be alarms of any unwelcome noise, then looked around himself, slowly taking his hand off the dead man’s mouth and then wiping the blood off the blade---he withdrew from the man’s throat---on the soldier’s clothing before putting it back into the vambrace’s scabbard and securing it. Adjusting his hat to make sure it was back on snug, Giovanni got up and motioned for his comrade to move forward, this time Salzano making it another two trees before he could see the vague forms of three bodies in the fog ahead, two clearly armed and one sitting on the ground.
Just as before, Giovanni withdrew a smaller weapon, this one his hunting knife from the scabbard on his right
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shoulder. He glanced towards the Elegant Death mercenary who aimed up a shot with his crossbow to the mercenary nearest him and nodded towards Giovanni to approach the furthest mercenary. Once in position, but not too close to alert any of the Frenchmen to his presence, Giovanni waited, ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice with his knife in hand!
Then, without warning and with much dread!
CRACKLE AND BANG!
The muzzle flash from the arquebus was somewhat visible in the dense fog somewhere beyond where Salzano was, the flash looking to discharge upwards towards the tree canopy and not with any direction towards a target ahead. The fury of voices and barks of alarm and commands that quickly followed the unexpected discharge soon followed! All too soon other voices joined in, and it was quickly known to all this was no accidental discharge.
In those moments, moments that alerted the guards opposite Salzano and his Italian comrade, the two Italians took full advantage of the distraction! One guard crumbled with a bolt to the neck and a sharp yelp of pain, while Giovanni came behind the other alerted guard and slashed his throat quickly.
Then, without warning and with much dread!
CRACKLE AND BANG!
The muzzle flash from the arquebus was somewhat visible in the dense fog somewhere beyond where Salzano was, the flash looking to discharge upwards towards the tree canopy and not with any direction towards a target ahead. The fury of voices and barks of alarm and commands that quickly followed the unexpected discharge soon followed! All too soon other voices joined in, and it was quickly known to all this was no accidental discharge.
In those moments, moments that alerted the guards opposite Salzano and his Italian comrade, the two Italians took full advantage of the distraction! One guard crumbled with a bolt to the neck and a sharp yelp of pain, while Giovanni came behind the other alerted guard and slashed his throat quickly.
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“Niente spada! Niente spada!” 127 barked Marnix in Italian with hands held up at the unknown attackers.
Giovanni slipped around the tree, using his knife to cut the rope around the spymaster’s wrists, before putting the knife away just as quickly after wiping the blood off on the nearby dead soldier.
“Salzano!” barked Marnix in surprise, “Why you double-crossing, no good---!”
Giovanni pivoted towards the sound coming his direction, a Frenchman appearing out of the fog with a sword in hand, his voice yelling, “Sécurisez le prisonnier! Nous sommes attaqués!” 128 The Frenchman’s recognition of Giovanni not being a Frenchman he knew was the same moment Giovanni started going for his sword; the former had the advantage and the Frenchman charged with a wild yell, sword raised and blood lust in his eyes!
Salzano barely had his sword out when the Frenchman’s sword came crashing down with the full force of the man’s own strength, the focused energy and power of the man’s sword driving Giovanni’s already kneeled position down to the ground! The French soldier wasted little time and positioned his sword for the killing thrust at the downed Italian! However, a bolt lodged itself suddenly into his chest! Stunned as he stumbled backwards and looking at the bolt in his chest in shock, he looked up and towards
Giovanni slipped around the tree, using his knife to cut the rope around the spymaster’s wrists, before putting the knife away just as quickly after wiping the blood off on the nearby dead soldier.
“Salzano!” barked Marnix in surprise, “Why you double-crossing, no good---!”
Giovanni pivoted towards the sound coming his direction, a Frenchman appearing out of the fog with a sword in hand, his voice yelling, “Sécurisez le prisonnier! Nous sommes attaqués!” 128 The Frenchman’s recognition of Giovanni not being a Frenchman he knew was the same moment Giovanni started going for his sword; the former had the advantage and the Frenchman charged with a wild yell, sword raised and blood lust in his eyes!
Salzano barely had his sword out when the Frenchman’s sword came crashing down with the full force of the man’s own strength, the focused energy and power of the man’s sword driving Giovanni’s already kneeled position down to the ground! The French soldier wasted little time and positioned his sword for the killing thrust at the downed Italian! However, a bolt lodged itself suddenly into his chest! Stunned as he stumbled backwards and looking at the bolt in his chest in shock, he looked up and towards
127 “No sword! No sword!”
128 “Secure the prisoner! We are under attack!”
128 “Secure the prisoner! We are under attack!”
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where he thought the bolt came from. Out of the fog appeared the Elegante Morte mercenary, sword in one hand and crossbow in the other hand, as the mercenary ran the Frenchman through with the edged weapon!
Giovanni collected himself off the ground as the Elegante Morte mercenary secured Jean de Marnix after putting his crossbow away. In the background, in the fog, a confusing battle still raged on!
“Dobbiamo andare ad aiutarli!” 129 Salzano urged in his native tongue. A flash of that boyhood innocence he thought he had lost back at his family’s villa all those months ago, ran across his face and in his voice.
“Sarà una scelta folle!” 130 replied the other Italian as he started leading Jean to safety, “Mentre lascio i miei compagni al loro destino per il bene del contratto, devi essere pronto a lasciare il tuo come il contratto lo richiede. Questa è la via del mercenario.” 131
Giovanni looked to Jean, who remained neutral in his emotions and opinion, and then looked back to the fog and the ghostly battle within it.
His eyes lingered in those moments.
Giovanni collected himself off the ground as the Elegante Morte mercenary secured Jean de Marnix after putting his crossbow away. In the background, in the fog, a confusing battle still raged on!
“Dobbiamo andare ad aiutarli!” 129 Salzano urged in his native tongue. A flash of that boyhood innocence he thought he had lost back at his family’s villa all those months ago, ran across his face and in his voice.
“Sarà una scelta folle!” 130 replied the other Italian as he started leading Jean to safety, “Mentre lascio i miei compagni al loro destino per il bene del contratto, devi essere pronto a lasciare il tuo come il contratto lo richiede. Questa è la via del mercenario.” 131
Giovanni looked to Jean, who remained neutral in his emotions and opinion, and then looked back to the fog and the ghostly battle within it.
His eyes lingered in those moments.
129 “We must go help them!”
130 “It will be a fool’s choice!”
131 “As I leave my comrades to their fate for the sake of the contract, you must be prepared to leave yours as the contract demands it. Such is the way of the mercenary.”
130 “It will be a fool’s choice!”
131 “As I leave my comrades to their fate for the sake of the contract, you must be prepared to leave yours as the contract demands it. Such is the way of the mercenary.”
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His soul was torn! Northern Company had become his family since his own biological family had been killed off and his family villa had been burned to the ground. Those memories of a remnant of ashes came back to him---
Giovanni only nodded, the lessons of his father always in his memory, “And why are you here? To loot and grave rob my family’s wealth like everyone else?”
“No. I am here because word of the Salzano family’s fate has reached far and wide across these lands. Not a tongue that does not speak of it. When one of my contacts confirmed the fate of the Dark Revenge, I set out immediately to find any survivors of the Salzano name. My sword company is over two hundred strong and we have searched every place where a shipwrecked person’s fate may take them. Here I am finally, searching the last place with a few men of mine.”
“I am the last of the Salzano family,” Giovanni confirmed.
Marcus nodded solemnly, “Then it has started.” 132
---Salzano tightened the grip around the handle of his cutlass. His jaw set in anger---
Giovanni only nodded, the lessons of his father always in his memory, “And why are you here? To loot and grave rob my family’s wealth like everyone else?”
“No. I am here because word of the Salzano family’s fate has reached far and wide across these lands. Not a tongue that does not speak of it. When one of my contacts confirmed the fate of the Dark Revenge, I set out immediately to find any survivors of the Salzano name. My sword company is over two hundred strong and we have searched every place where a shipwrecked person’s fate may take them. Here I am finally, searching the last place with a few men of mine.”
“I am the last of the Salzano family,” Giovanni confirmed.
Marcus nodded solemnly, “Then it has started.” 132
---Salzano tightened the grip around the handle of his cutlass. His jaw set in anger---
132 Pg. 165 (Albano, 2022)
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“What has started?” Giovanni asked, reassuring his grip on his cutlass sword that pointed at the man.
“Your inheritance.”
“My inheritance?” Giovanni chuckled, almost in tears at the irony of it, “My family is dead! My villa was burned! And the townsfolk loot and grave rob what is left! What I have left is the clothes on my back, a sword, and the promise of an inheritance from my uncle that I was a mercenary. Four days later, all I have left is vengeance for my family’s murder by the Catholic priest that killed them. And anyone else that is connected to Father Saul.”
“Have a bit of naive in you still, boy?” Marcus asked, adding, “Coin is the currency of this world, and a man needs to make a living somehow. You best wise up to that fact sooner than later. You are no longer a boy, but a man. Best start acting like one and get any foolish thoughts of righteous crusades to avenge your family’s murder out of your mind. Those fairy tales have gotten many a foolish man killed I tell you!”
“Vengeance is all that I have left,” Giovanni replied.
“You are a mercenary, Giovanni Salzano! It is in your blood! In your last name! You have more than vengeance left!” 133
“Your inheritance.”
“My inheritance?” Giovanni chuckled, almost in tears at the irony of it, “My family is dead! My villa was burned! And the townsfolk loot and grave rob what is left! What I have left is the clothes on my back, a sword, and the promise of an inheritance from my uncle that I was a mercenary. Four days later, all I have left is vengeance for my family’s murder by the Catholic priest that killed them. And anyone else that is connected to Father Saul.”
“Have a bit of naive in you still, boy?” Marcus asked, adding, “Coin is the currency of this world, and a man needs to make a living somehow. You best wise up to that fact sooner than later. You are no longer a boy, but a man. Best start acting like one and get any foolish thoughts of righteous crusades to avenge your family’s murder out of your mind. Those fairy tales have gotten many a foolish man killed I tell you!”
“Vengeance is all that I have left,” Giovanni replied.
“You are a mercenary, Giovanni Salzano! It is in your blood! In your last name! You have more than vengeance left!” 133
133 Pg. 166-167 (Albano, 2022)
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---A French soldier came stumbling out of the fog, his face slashed and his bloodied hand holding his traumatized face together.
“Dieudonné! Dieudonné!” the Frenchman pleaded for a comrade of the same name as he stumbled, his other hand holding a sword and his clothing attire looking worse for the wear.
Salzano barked in anger, gaining the Frenchman’s attention in the confusing and thick fog, then ran the man through with the sword! The French soldier shuttered as he investigated Giovanni’s angry, cold eyes, his own eyes growing wide in shock, then his bloodied hand reached out from his torn and shattered face and gripped Giovanni’s right shoulder.
“Pourquoi?” 134 the French soldier pleaded for an answer.
Giovanni withdrew his sword and the Frenchman gasped in pain, before collapsing to his knees, dropping his sword, and then falling over onto the ground.
The native Venetian turned to the Elegante Morte mercenary and Jean and said, “Abbiamo finito qui.” 135
“Dieudonné! Dieudonné!” the Frenchman pleaded for a comrade of the same name as he stumbled, his other hand holding a sword and his clothing attire looking worse for the wear.
Salzano barked in anger, gaining the Frenchman’s attention in the confusing and thick fog, then ran the man through with the sword! The French soldier shuttered as he investigated Giovanni’s angry, cold eyes, his own eyes growing wide in shock, then his bloodied hand reached out from his torn and shattered face and gripped Giovanni’s right shoulder.
“Pourquoi?” 134 the French soldier pleaded for an answer.
Giovanni withdrew his sword and the Frenchman gasped in pain, before collapsing to his knees, dropping his sword, and then falling over onto the ground.
The native Venetian turned to the Elegante Morte mercenary and Jean and said, “Abbiamo finito qui.” 135
134 “Why?”
135 “We are done here.”
135 “We are done here.”
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As Salzano turned and followed the pair out of the French campsite, Babette’s words of caution back in April echoed in his mind---
“Do not let the lifestyle of a mercenary consume you. If you do, it will kill you.” 136
---Maybe it was too late for that now. Maybe it was time to remember why he was here---
The Frenchman backed up to the mug he had left on the wall’s edge, keeping an eye on the Italian.
Giovanni straightened his equipment and replied, “Upon death, captain. You swore.”
Lafontaine took a gulp of his drink, adding, “I am no sight-seeing tour, son.”
“Fine,” Salzano replied, drawing his cutlass sword, and kept it angled downwards across his body, his head dipped slightly.
“Do not let the lifestyle of a mercenary consume you. If you do, it will kill you.” 136
---Maybe it was too late for that now. Maybe it was time to remember why he was here---
The Frenchman backed up to the mug he had left on the wall’s edge, keeping an eye on the Italian.
Giovanni straightened his equipment and replied, “Upon death, captain. You swore.”
Lafontaine took a gulp of his drink, adding, “I am no sight-seeing tour, son.”
“Fine,” Salzano replied, drawing his cutlass sword, and kept it angled downwards across his body, his head dipped slightly.
136 Pg. 271 (Albano, 2021)
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“Put it away, son,” Lafontaine replied, resting a hand on his right-most pistol. 137
---However much Northern Company was his family now, it was never meant to be. He was here for one reason and one reason only, however much that painted him negatively to the others in the company…so be it---
“The Battle of Agnadello,” Lafontaine responded in the eerie moments; Giovanni hesitated in those next moments at hearing the battle that took his father’s life in 1509. “Your father was murdered, Giovanni. Targeted assassination by his own men.”
Giovanni froze, staring across at the Frenchman. He tried to move his mouth, to say anything, but his muscles failed to respond. He looked off over the moat, staring blankly into the night. A lone tear ran down his face.
Lafontaine gestured towards the Italian’s cutlass with a nod, “Put the sword away, son. It is not worth dying over.”
Long moments passed before Giovanni even moved, looking back to the Frenchman, “Who?”
“Put the sword away, Salzano,” Lafontaine pressed.
---However much Northern Company was his family now, it was never meant to be. He was here for one reason and one reason only, however much that painted him negatively to the others in the company…so be it---
“The Battle of Agnadello,” Lafontaine responded in the eerie moments; Giovanni hesitated in those next moments at hearing the battle that took his father’s life in 1509. “Your father was murdered, Giovanni. Targeted assassination by his own men.”
Giovanni froze, staring across at the Frenchman. He tried to move his mouth, to say anything, but his muscles failed to respond. He looked off over the moat, staring blankly into the night. A lone tear ran down his face.
Lafontaine gestured towards the Italian’s cutlass with a nod, “Put the sword away, son. It is not worth dying over.”
Long moments passed before Giovanni even moved, looking back to the Frenchman, “Who?”
“Put the sword away, Salzano,” Lafontaine pressed.
137 Pg. 292 (Albano, 2021)
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Salzano nodded, shaking his head slightly as to clear the recent brain fog, and put the sword back into its sheath. He repeated his question to the Frenchman, “Who?”
“That is complicated,” Lafontaine responded, adding, “Where did you hear those words, Salzano?”
“What words?” the Italian asked, his mind again a racing confusing fog at-the-moment (appearing again as quickly as the Italian shook it away), as he even forgot his own pressing previous question and did not address it immediately a third time.
“I am here to collect on your contract. You finished the larger statement you issued previously. Few men know that command in this world.”
Giovanni shook his head, “It was my father. At bedtime, he would tell me about these bedtime tales. Adventures. And every-so-often, a character in his stories would say that. Why? Wait, what command?”
The Frenchman took a step forward and put a hand on Giovanni’s shoulder, “We have a lot to talk about, Salzano. But not here. Relax tonight. Get a drink or two. Tomorrow, we will talk.”
“About Father Saul?” Giovanni asked.
“About the world you just stepped into. But it stays between you and me. If anyone would find out---” the captain shook his head, “Do not echo so much a word about this. If it gets out, we are both dead men. Do not trust anyone with what happened here tonight.”
“That is complicated,” Lafontaine responded, adding, “Where did you hear those words, Salzano?”
“What words?” the Italian asked, his mind again a racing confusing fog at-the-moment (appearing again as quickly as the Italian shook it away), as he even forgot his own pressing previous question and did not address it immediately a third time.
“I am here to collect on your contract. You finished the larger statement you issued previously. Few men know that command in this world.”
Giovanni shook his head, “It was my father. At bedtime, he would tell me about these bedtime tales. Adventures. And every-so-often, a character in his stories would say that. Why? Wait, what command?”
The Frenchman took a step forward and put a hand on Giovanni’s shoulder, “We have a lot to talk about, Salzano. But not here. Relax tonight. Get a drink or two. Tomorrow, we will talk.”
“About Father Saul?” Giovanni asked.
“About the world you just stepped into. But it stays between you and me. If anyone would find out---” the captain shook his head, “Do not echo so much a word about this. If it gets out, we are both dead men. Do not trust anyone with what happened here tonight.”
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“Even the company?” Giovanni asked.
“Even the company,” Lafontaine answered. 138
---Just like Lancaster had told him about why anyone was with the company---
“We all have a past, Giovanni,” Lancaster noted again, adding, “Or we would not all be here…” 139
---Such it was.
“Even the company,” Lafontaine answered. 138
---Just like Lancaster had told him about why anyone was with the company---
“We all have a past, Giovanni,” Lancaster noted again, adding, “Or we would not all be here…” 139
---Such it was.
138 Pg. 293-295 (Albano, 2021)
139 Pg. 149 (Albano, 2021)
139 Pg. 149 (Albano, 2021)
Chapter 11
Intricacy
Court of Savoy
Mechelen, Belgium; Habsburg Netherlands
(Four days later, May 15th, 1515; afternoon)
Mechelen, Belgium; Habsburg Netherlands
(Four days later, May 15th, 1515; afternoon)
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Page 153
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Margaret walked gracefully through the hallways, gentlemen and ladies stepping away and bowing. 177 xxvii The hushed tones of whispers and gossip filled the air
177 There are no reliable blueprints, paintings, or academic reading material available---on the internet or otherwise---that gave me a reliable 1500s description of Margaret’s palace in detail. As such, assume the description in this book of the palace as being largely fictional.
The only reliable reference I have is from Jane de Longh (1953), which states, “Here she was to assemble the art collections, the paintings and manuscripts which, together with the music of her famous choir, constituted…the peaceful privacy of this modest palace…was able to create for herself a setting of feminine comfort and quiet harmony. The Regent of the Netherlands surrounded herself with poets and painters, architects and men of letters. The nobles and ladies of her court reflected the influence of the taste and preferences of their mistress. They made music, wrote poetry, composed and recited at this little court in the quiet seclusion of Malines, and the spirit of courtesy and culture that reigned here contrasted favorably with the loose and drunken manners of so many other courts.” (pg. 142-143)
The only reliable reference I have is from Jane de Longh (1953), which states, “Here she was to assemble the art collections, the paintings and manuscripts which, together with the music of her famous choir, constituted…the peaceful privacy of this modest palace…was able to create for herself a setting of feminine comfort and quiet harmony. The Regent of the Netherlands surrounded herself with poets and painters, architects and men of letters. The nobles and ladies of her court reflected the influence of the taste and preferences of their mistress. They made music, wrote poetry, composed and recited at this little court in the quiet seclusion of Malines, and the spirit of courtesy and culture that reigned here contrasted favorably with the loose and drunken manners of so many other courts.” (pg. 142-143)
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before and after the duchess and she was aware of the perception.
“Je zei dat je Giovanni heette?” 178 the former regent asked in Dutch, looking to the man who walked beside her. Behind the pair was a small trailing of advisers, servants, and guards.
“Sì,” 179 Giovanni replied in Italian, the sword-for-hire down to his essentials as his bedroll, walking stick, and cloak were still with his horse. His black gloves were folded over his baldric near his sword.
Margaret nodded, "Ken je dan Nederlands?" 180
Giovanni motioned with his hand and continued in Italian, “Solo un po '.” 181
Margaret nodded, saying in Italian, “Conosco solo un po' di italiano. Che ne dici dell'inglese?” 182 183
Giovanni nodded, “Yes, I do.”
“Je zei dat je Giovanni heette?” 178 the former regent asked in Dutch, looking to the man who walked beside her. Behind the pair was a small trailing of advisers, servants, and guards.
“Sì,” 179 Giovanni replied in Italian, the sword-for-hire down to his essentials as his bedroll, walking stick, and cloak were still with his horse. His black gloves were folded over his baldric near his sword.
Margaret nodded, "Ken je dan Nederlands?" 180
Giovanni motioned with his hand and continued in Italian, “Solo un po '.” 181
Margaret nodded, saying in Italian, “Conosco solo un po' di italiano. Che ne dici dell'inglese?” 182 183
Giovanni nodded, “Yes, I do.”
178 “You said your name was Giovanni?”
179 “Yes.”
180 “You know Dutch, then?”
181 “Only a little.”
182 “I only know a little Italian. How about English?”
183 There is no historical evidence that I could locate that hinted that Margaret of Austria knew English or Italian. As such, her English and Italian speaking is fictional for the purposes of storytelling.
179 “Yes.”
180 “You know Dutch, then?”
181 “Only a little.”
182 “I only know a little Italian. How about English?”
183 There is no historical evidence that I could locate that hinted that Margaret of Austria knew English or Italian. As such, her English and Italian speaking is fictional for the purposes of storytelling.
Page 155
“Good,” Margaret replied, gently signaling for Giovanni to turn right and up the stairs to an open balcony that overlooked the inner courtyard. Here, the duchess and mercenary stood, watching over the busy ongoings of the courtyard while the crowd of advisers, servants, and guards that had accompanied the pair waited patiently and quietly back at the top of the steps, “This will allow us to talk more freely without others listening.”
When the mercenary did not respond and instead kept his gaze on the courtyard below and elsewhere to the surroundings of the palace, Margaret offered, “You brought Jean de Marnix back to me. It was a contract offered to another, but since you returned and he did not, the coin is yours.”
Giovanni turned his head to the regent, a servant coming up at her hand motion and putting a small cloth bag containing gold, silver, and other coin in the Venetian’s hands. In that moment, his mind raced back to Marcus Felix Brutus---
“Coin is the currency of this world, and a man needs to make a living somehow.” 184
---As the servant departed, Giovanni looked to the duchess, “Thank you.”
When the mercenary did not respond and instead kept his gaze on the courtyard below and elsewhere to the surroundings of the palace, Margaret offered, “You brought Jean de Marnix back to me. It was a contract offered to another, but since you returned and he did not, the coin is yours.”
Giovanni turned his head to the regent, a servant coming up at her hand motion and putting a small cloth bag containing gold, silver, and other coin in the Venetian’s hands. In that moment, his mind raced back to Marcus Felix Brutus---
“Coin is the currency of this world, and a man needs to make a living somehow.” 184
---As the servant departed, Giovanni looked to the duchess, “Thank you.”
184 pg. 166; Albano, 2022
Page 156
“It is I who owe you the thank you, mercenary,” she smiled, “Where do your travels take you next?”
Giovanni struggled a long moment with that question. His steel resolve for vengeance of his family’s murder on one side, the devotion to Northern Company on the other. It would take time to figure it out, at least at the present time, and he was in no rush to come to hasty conclusions without a plan. Especially since any journey back to where he last knew the whereabouts of the rest of the company would be at least five days on horse, although if he pushed the beast, he could make it in three days. 185 xxviii
Giovanni struggled a long moment with that question. His steel resolve for vengeance of his family’s murder on one side, the devotion to Northern Company on the other. It would take time to figure it out, at least at the present time, and he was in no rush to come to hasty conclusions without a plan. Especially since any journey back to where he last knew the whereabouts of the rest of the company would be at least five days on horse, although if he pushed the beast, he could make it in three days. 185 xxviii
185 A properly trained trail horse with few other restrictions to its application in the moment can travel 50 miles a day. A fit endurance competitor can travel 100 miles in a day. This data---I would assume---excludes non-typical travel loads, weapons, and armor.
Considering this information and to put it into context for our characters, Giovanni is utilizing a black Andalusian horse that he had acquired from the dead Kaiserliche Protektorattruppe (Imperial Protectorate Troop) in Chapter 19---Loyalty---of No Tears (Northern Company). The horse is stated as “Fully equipped for long travel.” (pg. 318) In general, Andalusian horses were utilized as war horses and the horses’ weight of 1,200 to 1,300 pounds to its max carrying ability of 220 to 240 pounds respectfully are important to note.
Since its capture by Northern Company on April 21st, 1515, and its use to present (May 15th, 1515), the horse has not had its typical routine of high-maintenance care, abundant resources, and other perks that come with being assigned to the highly placed Imperial Protectorate Troop. At least not such services & resources that a lowly mercenary company can provide, such as Northern Company. As such, I am reducing the horse’s typical travel ability of 100 miles and 50 miles over the typical 205-mile journey from Mechelen to Groningen,
Considering this information and to put it into context for our characters, Giovanni is utilizing a black Andalusian horse that he had acquired from the dead Kaiserliche Protektorattruppe (Imperial Protectorate Troop) in Chapter 19---Loyalty---of No Tears (Northern Company). The horse is stated as “Fully equipped for long travel.” (pg. 318) In general, Andalusian horses were utilized as war horses and the horses’ weight of 1,200 to 1,300 pounds to its max carrying ability of 220 to 240 pounds respectfully are important to note.
Since its capture by Northern Company on April 21st, 1515, and its use to present (May 15th, 1515), the horse has not had its typical routine of high-maintenance care, abundant resources, and other perks that come with being assigned to the highly placed Imperial Protectorate Troop. At least not such services & resources that a lowly mercenary company can provide, such as Northern Company. As such, I am reducing the horse’s typical travel ability of 100 miles and 50 miles over the typical 205-mile journey from Mechelen to Groningen,
Page 157
“Wherever the road takes me,” Giovanni answered shortly, not wanting to entangle himself anymore in the on-goings of the Habsburg-Guelders conflict, knowing that---after all---he was a paid enemy to the Habsburgs. While he did not know if this woman knew where his allegiance lay, he suspected that she knew by him being with her mercenaries and Lancaster, in whom was labeled a contract offered to another.
“A vagabond’s life with the sword as it should be,” Margaret replied, accepting the fate of a mercenary.
Giovanni only nodded. A mercenary’s life he had not chosen for himself, but which had been chosen for him. “Then I will take my leave, Your Grace,” Giovanni retreated a step, removed his hat, and bowed.
“You may rise, Giovanni,” Margaret said.
Giovanni did as commanded and departed, putting his hat on his head as he went. He stopped at the duchess’ voice as the crowd of advisers, servants, and guards parted to let the man pass. He simply turned his head to his right shoulder as she spoke.
“If your comrades survived, they will have been taken to Paris. Louvre Castle.”
“A vagabond’s life with the sword as it should be,” Margaret replied, accepting the fate of a mercenary.
Giovanni only nodded. A mercenary’s life he had not chosen for himself, but which had been chosen for him. “Then I will take my leave, Your Grace,” Giovanni retreated a step, removed his hat, and bowed.
“You may rise, Giovanni,” Margaret said.
Giovanni did as commanded and departed, putting his hat on his head as he went. He stopped at the duchess’ voice as the crowd of advisers, servants, and guards parted to let the man pass. He simply turned his head to his right shoulder as she spoke.
“If your comrades survived, they will have been taken to Paris. Louvre Castle.”
Netherlands (2 days & 4 days respectfully) to 40 miles and 90 miles respectfully, adding a day onto each travel time.
Page 158
Giovanni simply turned his head back around and continued down the steps.
**
Giovanni made sure the last strap to the saddle was secured before mounting the horse. He had barely adjusted himself for the trip ahead when the annoying and overbearing Your Grace’s chamberlain came rushing out to the courtyard to where Giovanni’s horse had been tied. The man was in a frantic rush and held up a letter as he ran.
“Giovanni! Giovanni!” Louis Barangier barked, coming to an out-of-breath stop at Salzano’s horse, “Your Grace has a letter for you!”
Giovanni extended a gloved hand and accepted the letter as he noticed the seal of the duchess on the back of the folded document, “What is this?” Giovanni asked gruffly.
“An offer of employment in Your Grace’s service,” Louis replied, “As you desire. Included is also travel papers, ensuring you are not stopped on your journey.”
“So it is,” Giovanni replied, removing his hat, and bowing his head slightly to the chamberlain, before encouraging the horse forward as he put his hat back on his head.
**
Giovanni made sure the last strap to the saddle was secured before mounting the horse. He had barely adjusted himself for the trip ahead when the annoying and overbearing Your Grace’s chamberlain came rushing out to the courtyard to where Giovanni’s horse had been tied. The man was in a frantic rush and held up a letter as he ran.
“Giovanni! Giovanni!” Louis Barangier barked, coming to an out-of-breath stop at Salzano’s horse, “Your Grace has a letter for you!”
Giovanni extended a gloved hand and accepted the letter as he noticed the seal of the duchess on the back of the folded document, “What is this?” Giovanni asked gruffly.
“An offer of employment in Your Grace’s service,” Louis replied, “As you desire. Included is also travel papers, ensuring you are not stopped on your journey.”
“So it is,” Giovanni replied, removing his hat, and bowing his head slightly to the chamberlain, before encouraging the horse forward as he put his hat back on his head.
Page 159
**
That Night
Margaret watched from the privacy of her own bedroom as the rain descended gently from the star speckled night sky. She pushed the door open and walked out onto the covered balcony, her private room and balcony being the only places where the duchess enjoyed full privacy and an escape from the burdens of her rule. Behind her, the dogs, while raising their heads from the white cloth cushions, went back to sleep; her guinea pig, green parrot, and other birds that called the duchess’ chamber home were all fast asleep and did not bother with the former regent’s exit. 186
186 “La Chambre de Madame---this was the sanctuary to which only a few privileged persons penetrated, where Margaret found rest and refreshment after the fatiguing burdens of her rule. Entering here, she, around whose heart the loneliness of her office and her widowhood often seemed to draw an iron band, was no longer alone. There were always the dogs, who sprang up from the white cloth cushions in the corners of the room to greet her with wagging of tails. The guinea pig she had once bought from a Frenchman for not less
Page 160
As the wet air hit Margaret, she shuttered and pulled her night overcoat closer to her body. She took in a breath of fresh rain hair, the smell usually a highlight of her day, but her nose quickly crinkled at the familiar smell of tobacco smoke. She sighed, not needing to turn to see the man standing in the corner of her balcony smoking a cigarillo.
“I am afraid to find out how you got past my palace security,” Margaret spoke out-loud.
“Your dogs like me,” came Lafontaine Vayssière’s rough voice.
“Did Egmond send you?”
“No.”
“Death is still yet another day away,” Margaret summarized.
“It is.”
“Are you here about your men?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know it was me?”
“I am afraid to find out how you got past my palace security,” Margaret spoke out-loud.
“Your dogs like me,” came Lafontaine Vayssière’s rough voice.
“Did Egmond send you?”
“No.”
“Death is still yet another day away,” Margaret summarized.
“It is.”
“Are you here about your men?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know it was me?”
than ten pounds came nuzzling for her caresses. The green parrot whistled in coaxing tones from his great cage, and from a spacious aviary came a continual piping and fluttering of the other little birds that were in the chamber of my lady…” pg. 166; Longh, 1953
Page 161
“After asking questions around Dordrecht and dodging Habsburg agents in the city, I put the pieces together.”
Margaret smiled at the captain’s investigation work, “Your men completed their mission for Egmond, then the archer accepted a job from me in exchange for his life. He and your men are free of my debt and Egmond cannot touch them for it.”
“Egmond has no honor,” Lafontaine summarized.
“That we can both agree on.”
“I doubt that.”
Margaret turned to the mercenary captain in the darkened corner of the balcony, “Why do you serve the French? After what they did to you?”
“I follow the coin. I keep it simple. You want me, you pay me. Egmond pays more.”
“Unless Il Contratto 187 is invoked.”
Lafontaine knew the basis of her statement. She wanted Egmond dead, the duke having become her most bitter rival besides William de Croy. If William threatened the Spanish-Germanic Habsburg dynasty through Prince d’Espaigne, then Karl von Egmond threatened Margaret of Austria’s path to stopping William by keeping the Habsburg Netherlands under his constant raids and the
Margaret smiled at the captain’s investigation work, “Your men completed their mission for Egmond, then the archer accepted a job from me in exchange for his life. He and your men are free of my debt and Egmond cannot touch them for it.”
“Egmond has no honor,” Lafontaine summarized.
“That we can both agree on.”
“I doubt that.”
Margaret turned to the mercenary captain in the darkened corner of the balcony, “Why do you serve the French? After what they did to you?”
“I follow the coin. I keep it simple. You want me, you pay me. Egmond pays more.”
“Unless Il Contratto 187 is invoked.”
Lafontaine knew the basis of her statement. She wanted Egmond dead, the duke having become her most bitter rival besides William de Croy. If William threatened the Spanish-Germanic Habsburg dynasty through Prince d’Espaigne, then Karl von Egmond threatened Margaret of Austria’s path to stopping William by keeping the Habsburg Netherlands under his constant raids and the
187 The Contract
Page 162
duchess’ attention and resources elsewhere away from William. Even worse, Margaret was more than aware that Egmond was a French ally and as such, she knew that the honor-less Egmond was in William’s back pocket; the recent events with Jean de Marnix made that clear.
“You cannot use The Contract against another Vassal. Senior, Vested, or Junior. You know the law.”
The duchess turned back to look out towards the city below, “I do, and I broke it.”
“Rescuing your Spymaster after the Il Contratto is completed for Egmond is not against the established law of Il fedele eterno di Roma 188 .”
“If no one knew….” She offered, the duchess allowing her thoughts to dream.
“To betray the oath of The Contract is to invite death itself from a thousand directions. It would be an unforgivable sin against The Faithful Eternal of Rome if discovered, the consequences beyond just you and me and to the Habsburg dynasty itself.”
The duchess’ thoughts lingered on the prospect for a long time before her lonely desires came to the forefront in a desperate wave of attention! She suddenly felt cornered, trapped, isolated. The weight of this cloak and dagger
“You cannot use The Contract against another Vassal. Senior, Vested, or Junior. You know the law.”
The duchess turned back to look out towards the city below, “I do, and I broke it.”
“Rescuing your Spymaster after the Il Contratto is completed for Egmond is not against the established law of Il fedele eterno di Roma 188 .”
“If no one knew….” She offered, the duchess allowing her thoughts to dream.
“To betray the oath of The Contract is to invite death itself from a thousand directions. It would be an unforgivable sin against The Faithful Eternal of Rome if discovered, the consequences beyond just you and me and to the Habsburg dynasty itself.”
The duchess’ thoughts lingered on the prospect for a long time before her lonely desires came to the forefront in a desperate wave of attention! She suddenly felt cornered, trapped, isolated. The weight of this cloak and dagger
188 The Faithful Eternal of Rome
Page 163
world was suddenly too much, her thoughts racing for a logical conclusion to her feelings! But there were no logical approaches, no diplomatic solutions, no political schemes that could tame the fires of her lonely heart. In a moment of weakness, a moment of naked truth, she gave in to her lonely heart.
“But other sin could remain secret,” Margaret finally announced, taking a step towards the mercenary and running a hand down the Frenchman’s chest as she bit her lip, “For a time.”
Lafontaine removed her hand, but only after a long moment of feeling its remembered touch and gentleness. His cold, lifeless soul protected him from the emotions that threatened to rob him of the fortress around his heart, “That was another time. Another us.”
Margaret looked into the mercenary’s eyes, her own eyes longing for the affection and attention that only Lafontaine could give her beyond her late husband, “If only it could be once more.” 189
“But other sin could remain secret,” Margaret finally announced, taking a step towards the mercenary and running a hand down the Frenchman’s chest as she bit her lip, “For a time.”
Lafontaine removed her hand, but only after a long moment of feeling its remembered touch and gentleness. His cold, lifeless soul protected him from the emotions that threatened to rob him of the fortress around his heart, “That was another time. Another us.”
Margaret looked into the mercenary’s eyes, her own eyes longing for the affection and attention that only Lafontaine could give her beyond her late husband, “If only it could be once more.” 189
189 There is no historical evidence that I could locate that indicates that Margaret had any serious romantic involvement with anyone else after her husband’s death (Philibert II, Duke of Savoy) in 1504.
However, there were several noted instances where Margaret’s beauty (despite her mid-thirties age and beyond healthy child-bearing years) presented opportunities to rumors that the duchess would marry again, as Longh points out, “Although she still did not exchange her widow's cap for any more worldly headdress even on these very festival days, the Regent of the Netherlands did appear at Henry's
However, there were several noted instances where Margaret’s beauty (despite her mid-thirties age and beyond healthy child-bearing years) presented opportunities to rumors that the duchess would marry again, as Longh points out, “Although she still did not exchange her widow's cap for any more worldly headdress even on these very festival days, the Regent of the Netherlands did appear at Henry's
Page 164
“You know it would never be allowed publicly,” Lafontaine replied, giving in ever-so-slightly to the romance he shared with the duchess, his fortress crumbling around his heart and a brief flicker of warmth to his cold soul making itself known, “A disgraced French soldier turned mercenary and a duchess of royal blood.”
“Please. Just for tonight.”
His thoughts struggled as she ran a hand along the side of his face and his beard. He knew what was right and what was wrong. He may had lost his heart and soul years ago, but he was no monster. At least not yet. If he gave in, he would ruin her. A night of passion would bring more harm than good. She had left him once before for the sake of the Spanish-Germanic Habsburg dynasty and he knew, deep down, she would do it again. She had caused his heart to break and his soul to become the lifeless relic it is today; the least he could do was verify that what she did was the right thing: for her, for the Spanish-Germanic Habsburg dynasty, and for him. Emotions be damned, he had to take the high road. Such was the cost of betrayal.
He regained his resolve as his soul iced over once again. He reached up and removed her hand, “No.”
“Please. Just for tonight.”
His thoughts struggled as she ran a hand along the side of his face and his beard. He knew what was right and what was wrong. He may had lost his heart and soul years ago, but he was no monster. At least not yet. If he gave in, he would ruin her. A night of passion would bring more harm than good. She had left him once before for the sake of the Spanish-Germanic Habsburg dynasty and he knew, deep down, she would do it again. She had caused his heart to break and his soul to become the lifeless relic it is today; the least he could do was verify that what she did was the right thing: for her, for the Spanish-Germanic Habsburg dynasty, and for him. Emotions be damned, he had to take the high road. Such was the cost of betrayal.
He regained his resolve as his soul iced over once again. He reached up and removed her hand, “No.”
luxurious feasts in richer dress than had been her custom of recent years…and the rumor that Margaret had at last decided to bid her widow’s weeds farewell made a sensation of the first order in international society.” pg. 183-184; Longh, 1953
Page 165
“Then why are you here, if not to make love to me or to kill me?!” Margaret swirled around in distress, tears coming down her face, as she took a step to the balcony and looked out to the quiet city beyond, “Picking one or the other would surely be better than this torture you bring to my heart!”
Lafontaine sighed. He put out his cigarillo and filed the remnants away into a pouch for later use, “My men. Do they live?”
Tears of utter loneliness and defeat slowly trickled down her cheeks as she looked out at the city, “One returned. He goes by Giovanni. He had no commitments beyond the coin he received. I told him, if he so desired and if his comrades lived, that he could find them at the Louvre Castle in Paris.”
“Which way did he travel?”
“Towards France.”
“Thank you.”
Before the mercenary captain could disappear into the dark completely, Margaret called out as she turned her face to the captain’s retreating form, “Is this Giovanni the same as the murdered Salzano family? The son of Corradeo Salzano? Word has spread far of that family’s unfortunate fate.”
Lafontaine looked back to the duchess but did not say a word.
Lafontaine sighed. He put out his cigarillo and filed the remnants away into a pouch for later use, “My men. Do they live?”
Tears of utter loneliness and defeat slowly trickled down her cheeks as she looked out at the city, “One returned. He goes by Giovanni. He had no commitments beyond the coin he received. I told him, if he so desired and if his comrades lived, that he could find them at the Louvre Castle in Paris.”
“Which way did he travel?”
“Towards France.”
“Thank you.”
Before the mercenary captain could disappear into the dark completely, Margaret called out as she turned her face to the captain’s retreating form, “Is this Giovanni the same as the murdered Salzano family? The son of Corradeo Salzano? Word has spread far of that family’s unfortunate fate.”
Lafontaine looked back to the duchess but did not say a word.
Page 166
“Pray that Egmond does not find out,” Margaret said, understanding the captain’s silence all too well, “That man is a snake out for his own benefit and will do anything to move up from Junior to Vested Vassal. He is ambitious, cruel, and calculating. If he finds out that a member of the Salzano family has survived, he will stop at nothing to secure his ascent.”
“And you?” Lafontaine asked.
Margaret smiled thinly as she wiped her eyes, “You know me.”
“I thought I did at one time.”
“And you?” Lafontaine asked.
Margaret smiled thinly as she wiped her eyes, “You know me.”
“I thought I did at one time.”
END OF CHAPTER EXCERPTS
REFERENCES
xix (113; pg. 109) Information sourced from:
• https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/2016/01/24/the-wheel-lock-history-of-the-pistol/
(Retrieved 11-21-2020)
xx (115; pg. 109) Information sourced from The Landsknechts: The History and Legacy of the German Mercenaries Who Fought for the Holy Roman Empire (Charles River Editors; Sean McLachlan, 2020)
xxi (116; pg. 110) Information sourced from:
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/average-horse-weight/ (Retrieved 07-07-2022)
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/how-much-weight-can-a-horse-carry/ (Retrieved 07-07-2022)
xxii (120, 121; pg. 114) Information sourced from Emperor: A New Life of Charles V (Geoffrey Parker; 2021)
xxvii (177; pg. 153) Information sourced from Margaret of Austria Regent of the Netherlands (Jane de Longh, 1953)
xxviii (185; pg. 156) Information sourced from:
• https://horseracingsense.com/how-far-can-a-horse-travel-in-a-day/
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andalusian_horse
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/average-horse-weight/
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/how-much-weight-can-a-horse-carry/
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://www.bing.com/maps?q=Groningen+to+Mechelen&FORM=HDRSC4
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/2016/01/24/the-wheel-lock-history-of-the-pistol/
(Retrieved 11-21-2020)
xx (115; pg. 109) Information sourced from The Landsknechts: The History and Legacy of the German Mercenaries Who Fought for the Holy Roman Empire (Charles River Editors; Sean McLachlan, 2020)
xxi (116; pg. 110) Information sourced from:
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/average-horse-weight/ (Retrieved 07-07-2022)
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/how-much-weight-can-a-horse-carry/ (Retrieved 07-07-2022)
xxii (120, 121; pg. 114) Information sourced from Emperor: A New Life of Charles V (Geoffrey Parker; 2021)
xxvii (177; pg. 153) Information sourced from Margaret of Austria Regent of the Netherlands (Jane de Longh, 1953)
xxviii (185; pg. 156) Information sourced from:
• https://horseracingsense.com/how-far-can-a-horse-travel-in-a-day/
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andalusian_horse
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/average-horse-weight/
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://www.deephollowranch.com/how-much-weight-can-a-horse-carry/
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
• https://www.bing.com/maps?q=Groningen+to+Mechelen&FORM=HDRSC4
(Retrieved 08-19-2022)
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