Chapter 431: Fish for Lent

After I dismissed Gustav, Oscar spoke up as if to defend him.

"Master, Gustav has a gift for command. He’s mastered the Streit tactics perfectly, and the gunners from Rosenheim follow his orders well."

"You’ve watched him up close, so you’d know better than anyone. But having a gift for command doesn’t mean a man will lead a unit flawlessly. The real question is how well he handles the veterans."

"The pikeman commander is struggling with those veterans himself. Can Gustav manage them?"

"Veteran or rookie, if a man can’t do it, you run him into the ground until he can."

There’s one truth that holds in every age.

Run them into the ground until they get it. Eventually, they’ll do it just to make it stop.

"So, no further reinforcements from the duchy army?"

"Not for now. Not until my father-in-law returns."

I’d meant to swap out the troublesome pikemen, but the Judicial Minister, who had joined forces with the Count of Basel, forced the issue by leveling a charge against the Capital Sentinel Command that the duchy army was being privatized.

Beyond the duchy troops already stationed in Rosenheim, further reinforcements were now out of reach.

The Judicial Minister attacked the Capital Sentinel Command on the high-minded principle that a prince must not privatize the duchy army, and Viscount Loewenbert, a stickler for principle with little political savvy, had no choice but to accept the argument.

Had my father-in-law been there, he’d have barked at them to stop talking nonsense, but the Count of Basel seized the opening to temporarily take the reinforcement card off the table. A genuinely cunning move.

"He must figure he can beat me as long as I don’t have duchy reinforcements."

"But haven’t your victories so far rested squarely on the strength of the Gale Knights?"

"We did get help from the duchy army, but our own men were always the core."

My proud Gale Knights had charged across battlefield after battlefield at my side, breaking countless enemies. The Count of Basel is skilled at raiding warfare and commands large cavalry formations of his own. Does he mean to meet me head-on?

The most famous commander in that cavalry is the Lightning Knight, Sir Handendorf, a renowned knight who surrendered to me after the defeat at Feuzen, paid his ransom, and returned to Basel.

Hmm, come to think of it, I once took a blow to the head from that man’s mace and suffered a concussion. True to his lightning moniker, his mace work really was astonishingly fast.

"I trust firearms discipline is being strictly maintained?"

"Yes, sir. The gunners have their heads on straight and treat their weapons like their own lives."

"Be sure to check the gunpowder allotments and the issued flints without fail."

"Fortunately, there’s been no sign of anything being siphoned off so far."

Powder and flint are worth a considerable sum on their own. Some fool with more gall than sense might pilfer his issued supplies and sell them off. Naturally, that’s an offense punishable by being shot on the spot.

I keep thorough controls in place to prevent it, but there’s no stopping someone who’s determined to steal. I just hope I never have to execute a gunner I trained with my own hands. That would be a bitter thing indeed.

Next, I summoned the estate manager.

I wanted to get a handle on Hissen’s problems and set policy accordingly.

"It is an honor to be received, great lord. Ever since the House of Streit became the ruling house guarding this land, bringing prosperity and a powerful army, every subject has looked up to..."

The estate manager, who had come in with an administrative officer, opened with a torrent of flattery.

Deciding it was a waste of time, I cut him off.

"Never mind that. Are there any serious problems in Hissen?"

"M-my lord, thanks to your merciful policies, the people sing your praises."

"Praise is all well and good, but I asked what the problems are. The problems."

"Th-that would be..."

When I pressed him directly about the problems, the flustered estate manager’s eyes darted about. The two men had originally been bureaucrats under the Administrative Department, and since they had a decent reputation among the people, I’d kept them on.

"The truth is, this is a border region with frequent fighting, so there isn’t much work to be had."

"I suppose not. Not everyone can serve as a soldier."

"You have been eager to settle migrants here, my lord, but those migrants are taking work away from the existing residents, and there’s a good deal of resentment. It hasn’t come to the surface yet, but I fear the friction may grow."

In places like Feuzen and Vintenheim, I’d created so much work that they were now suffering labor shortages instead, but regions I hadn’t yet turned my attention to, like Hissen and Denmach, were stagnating.

And since Hissen was a border region, trade caravans rarely passed through. It had always depended on Rosenheim and wasn’t built to stand on its own, but because it served as Rosenheim’s shield, the two complemented each other.

Hissen’s fortifications had been strengthened during Baron Constance’s time, but as I saw it, the land held far more value than that. It was the ideal bridgehead for a push south.

"Once I’ve settled the dispute with Basel, we’ll discuss the matter at length."

"Your attention will be a lamp lighting the way for the people of Hissen, my lord."

"A lamp, is it? Then start by building warehouses."

"Pardon? Warehouses, sir?"

I smiled meaningfully at the bewildered estate manager. We went on to discuss various grievances and policies. In truth, the discussion was entirely one-sided; the estate manager and the administrative officer simply answered my questions diligently.

In broad strokes, I sketched out a grand plan to make Hissen the waypoint linking the south to Breisburg. It’s no exaggeration, then, to say that the outcome of this skirmish would determine Hissen’s value.

But another problem came up.

A trivial one, if you could call it that.

"Led by the Holy Spirit, Jesus went out into the wilderness and was tempted three times by the devil. Satan appeared and tempted Him, saying, ’Turn these stones into bread.’ And Jesus answered, ’Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’"

"...Father, I’m not sure why my court priest has suddenly taken it upon himself to instruct me."

"Because Lent begins tomorrow, and yet my lord asks for nothing but meat. Next, Satan goaded Him, saying that if He were the Son of God, He could throw Himself from the cliff, and the servants of God would appear so that His foot would not strike a stone. And Jesus answered, ’Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’"

The man hauling out the Gospel of Matthew to teach me the origins of Lent is Francisco, the court priest. Taking him in on the Bishop of Lanseh’s recommendation had seemed like a fine idea, right up until he turned into my scripture tutor.

Hilda was delighted to have a court priest around, but for someone like me, a Christian in name only, he was a considerable nuisance. He’d taken our side during the special trial, so I’d liked him well enough. I never imagined he’d be such a ferocious preacher.

"For the third temptation, Satan took Jesus to the summit of a very high mountain and said, ’All the world lies before you, and if you bow down to me, I will make you king over it.’ And Jesus answered, ’Away with you, Satan! Does scripture not say to worship the Lord your God and serve Him alone?’ And with that, He drove Satan away."

Enough! Please!

"By overcoming every one of these temptations through abstinence and repentance, He took our sins upon Himself and gave us the teaching by which we may climb the stairway to heaven, the kingdom of the Lord. And so, my lord, you too ought to..."

On the eve of Lent, I resolved to give up meat.

Guess I’ll grill some fish instead and eat my fill of that.

The court priest’s preaching didn’t stop with me. Apparently, he made the rounds among my men as well. Anton became his most enthusiastic convert, while Viktor went so far as to beg me to call the man off.

Sorry, but religion isn’t my department, so I can’t stop him either.

Father Francisco had brought in a large number of monks from the Bishopric of Lanseh, who had come to be trained as army chaplains. An army chaplain’s influence is more formidable than you’d think.

Calling on God and begging forgiveness for one’s sins at the moment of death was how every man of this age hoped to meet his end, so it’s no exaggeration to say that whether a unit has chaplains directly affects its morale.

I assigned chaplains to my units for the first time, and morale really did rise. Now, even if the soldiers died, they could die having confessed their sins.

A few days after the start of Lent was announced, we held large-scale training with the First and Second Companies. I was curious whether Gustav had truly gotten the Second under control, and I was mildly surprised at how smoothly its gunners and pikemen worked together.

So after the training, I called Gustav in and asked how he’d managed it. The naive, guileless young man answered with a bright, innocent smile that he’d taken the veterans to Hissen’s red-light district and settled things there.

Oh, my aching head.