Re: Steel and Gunpowder

"A cup I drank, a second I drank,

In the high halls of the host!

The raven of forgetfulness hovers above,

And steals the minds of men.

Fire is best for the sons of men,

And the sight of the shining sun,

But better still is the brimming horn,

When the bloody work is done!"

Hundreds of glasses shattered on the tables outside.

Soldiers, peasants, and factory machinists sang under the falling snow, drunk on strong stout.

Inside the Great Hall, there was a profound silence despite the roaring sounds outside. Everyone remained silent, waiting for Konrad to speak further. But the first to break the tension was Margrave George.

George nearly choked on a huge piece of turkey. "What? You could not care less? The empires are taking the whole continent!"

"Let them take it, George," Konrad laughed, slamming his silver cup down on the table. "Let them march their men through the fields! Let them bleed thousands of soldiers trying to capture a few dirty farming villages in Hungary and Italy! You think I want to rule a thousand miles of Imperial dirt?"

Elector Philip frowned. "But King Konrad, land is power. The more land a kingdom holds, the more crops they can grow, and the more taxes they can collect."

"Philip, my brilliant, over-thinking friend!" Konrad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the map.

He tapped his finger directly on the Alpine borders and the city of Munich. "That is the old way of thinking. The Romans tried to hold all that land, and look what happened to them. They stretched themselves incredibly thin, and the barbarian tribes tore them to pieces."

"Look at this map," Konrad commanded, drawing an imaginary circle around the high alpine passes. "With our sprawling fortresses and our heavy mountain artillery, no merchant wagon or army can pass through the southern mountains without my permission. We control the trade routes between Italy, the Mediterranean, and the rest of Northern Europe."

Queen Katarina smiled gracefully, taking a sip from her own cup. "My husband does not need to conquer Vienna or Paris, Philip. Vienna needs iron. Paris needs coal. If the French kings and the Habsburgs want to survive the Ottomans, they have to buy our Swabian rifles. And they have to buy them at whatever price we set."

"See? That is thinking!" Konrad cheered, pointing at his wife. "General Richter’s job is to hold the door, tax every single merchant that walks through it, and let the rest of the continent tear each other apart."

Afterward, a stunned silence fell over the vassal princes...

"Curse it all..." George whispered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his beard. "You are letting them do all the fighting, while you just sit here and sell them the shovels to dig their own graves."

Elector Philip let out a long breath, shaking his head. "I have never met a man who thinks the way you do, Konrad."

"You will learn, Philip," Konrad said, offering a smile to the Prince. "That is why you are all sitting at my table. Stick with me, follow the Swabian laws, and your lands will be richer than the old Emperors ever dreamed of."

"Well then!" Duke Ulrich cheered, raising his cup high into the air. "To General Richter! May he sit comfortably behind his stone walls and collect all our gold!"

"To Richter!" George and Philip echoed, clinking their glasses together.

Konrad let out a booming laugh. He picked up his cup and took a long gulp of spiced wine.

He kicked his boots off the edge of the table and leaned in closely, resting his forearms on the wood.

"...I said I could not care less about ruling the muddy fields of Austria. I never said I was not going to entirely control it," Konrad grinned, wiping a drop of wine from his beard.

Duke Ulrich frowned. "I do not understand... how do you plan to control it?"

As such, Konrad turned his head and looked down the table.

Sitting near the end, awkwardly picking at a bowl of mashed peas and ignoring the beautiful roasted meats, was a man wearing glass spectacles.

"Hey! Lothar!" Konrad yelled over the loud chatter of the feast.

Duke Lothar pushed his spectacles up his nose and looked at Konrad with wide eyes. "Konrad?"

"Get over here! Bring your chair!" Konrad laughed warmly.

Lothar grabbed his chair and dragged it across the wooden floor, squeezing himself into a space right between Queen Eleanor and Duke Ulrich.

The foreign princes looked at the bespectacled Duke with clear confusion.

They all knew exactly who Lothar was...

He was a cousin to the Habsburg Emperor. He had strong ties to the old noble houses of Austria. He was supposed to be their enemy.

But instead, he was Swabia’s chief engineer and the country’s foremost genius. Lothar oversaw the manufacture of the steam engines and weapons whose power was beyond question.

Konrad placed a hand on Lothar’s shoulder.

"Look at this man," Konrad said. "He is the most brilliant mind I have ever met. He is the true architect of Augsburg’s factories. George asked why I am not marching my army to take the Imperial throne for myself. The answer is simple. I do not want it. But I am certainly going to conquer the Empire... for my friend."

After hearing such words, a collective gasp rippled across the high table.

George’s eyes widened to the size of gold coins. "You..."

"You are going to put Lothar on the throne?"

"Undoubtedly," Konrad grinned. "Lothar is a Habsburg. He has the royal blood. The peasants already know his name. When the time is right, my army will march out of Munich, smash whatever weak lords are left standing, and I will place the crown directly onto his head. The Empire will be a loyal vassal state of Swabia."

Margrave George rubbed his face. "But you are ignoring the sprawling problem right in front of us... If you try to claim the Imperial lands now, you will be fighting a war on two entirely different fronts."

"We are not claiming the Empire right now... We need to wait for the sign from Sultan Suleiman," Konrad said calmly, taking a bite of venison.

Elector Philip frowned.

He stared at Konrad in pure confusion.

"A sign from Sultan Suleiman? What do you mean?"

Konrad chewed his food slowly. He swallowed before wiping his mouth with a linen cloth.

"Oh, do you not know?" Konrad laughed.

"Know what?" Duke Ulrich asked.

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