Chapter 433: The Defender’s Banner

Word that I was pouring an enormous fortune into developing Vintenheim had spread far and wide, so of course the count knew of it. That made it the perfect target for the enemy.

August said, "Even if they seized a holding in Rosenheim’s rear, they couldn’t keep it. In their place I’d forget about an occupation that bleeds manpower and simply burn the place and run. Far simpler."

"Just like what happened at Breisach."

It was the worst ending I could picture, and one I would rather not have pictured at all, but for the Count of Basel there would be no better outcome. It was a strike straight at my Achilles’ heel.

If Vintenheim were reduced to ashes by a sudden attack, how would I react? I’d be consumed by rage. I’d torment myself over failing to see the enemy’s strategy and losing the town.

And to preserve my pride as a prince, the only path left would be an all-out war with everything staked on it.

I would be the one to declare war first. That would give the Count of Basel, as the defender, the justification to request support from his allies, and I would presumably pull in the western princes in turn.

It would swell into a war on the scale of the civil war. Did the count want to blow matters up that badly? Badly enough to drag his allies in? Then understanding struck me like a bolt of lightning.

Wait. Basel’s ally is...

"...Damn it. The Swiss Confederation is in this."

The grand duke had once told me the Count of Basel was connected to the Swiss Confederation. The Confederation had long insisted that the Basel region was theirs, and the grand duke had ignored the claim.

But with the grand duke away in the east, they had clearly seen an opening. They’d goad the count into a border skirmish with me, then trot out some convenient justification and intervene.

That convenient justification would be supporting Basel as the defender.

The Count of Basel and the Swiss Confederation were allies, after all.

Can a mere prince belonging to a duchy form an alliance with a neighboring country? In a feudal society, it happens all the time. And there are plenty of princes within the empire who hold vassal contracts with two lords.

There’s no law anywhere saying you must have exactly one liege. Double contracts are possible, so the contracts of medieval feudal nobles are about as tangled as their marriages.

"If Vintenheim is destroyed, I’ll have no choice but to formally declare war on Basel. Sitting still after my land has been burned is unthinkable for a prince. It would escalate into an all-out war."

"And then the Swiss Confederation intervenes under the banner of supporting an ally who has been attacked!"

"And once the western princes pile in, it becomes a complete free-for-all."

The grand duke would then go to war with the Confederation to defend his territory. With the aftershocks of the civil war still fresh, another international war would be a genuine crisis this time.

"And I, the man who set that war in motion, would have to bear the entire responsibility."

The true objective of the Count of Basel and the Swiss Confederation was to bring about my downfall. They clearly regarded me as the single greatest obstacle. This was no simple matter of a grudge.

To push toward Breisburg, they needed to remove the powerful gatekeeper standing in the way. Basel’s ultimate goal was to break free of the Duchy of Beren and join the Swiss Confederation.

It was the worst case the grand duke had feared. In the end, would he go on trusting a man who had let a border incident escalate into an international war? My political enemies would swarm like a kicked hornets’ nest.

There was a strong chance they’d pressure the grand duke to impeach me for squandering the nation’s strength at a time when war had to be avoided. At worst, he might seize on that as the justification to reclaim my lands.

My power rested entirely on the grand duke, so opposing him was unthinkable. The western princes and the War Minister’s family couldn’t help me. My father-in-law is the leading figure of the Grand Duke’s faction.

Rather than help me stand against the grand duke, he’s the kind of man who would cut his own daughter and son-in-law loose while weeping tears of blood. The western princes see me as their link to the grand duke and their source of support, so they’d abandon me the moment that link was gone.

I could hardly lie down and die on the grand duke’s word either, so I’d resist, but how long could I hold out? Eventually I’d have to run, and where exactly does a man run with a pregnant wife?

Nothing awaited me but ruin.

And yet, the worse it looked, the colder my mind grew.

"That’s completely unjust! The Count of Basel attacked first!"

"What matters is making sure we never reach a situation where I’m the one declaring war first."

"Is a justification for declaring war really that important?"

"Enormously. Whoever draws the sword first is the one at a disadvantage."

Oscar, Anton, and some of the others didn’t seem to grasp the distinction, but August and Viktor understood it precisely. Justification in feudal society is simple and terrifying at the same time.

If it were simply a one-on-one fight between me and Basel, a war between us would have little wider effect. The problem was that I was close to the western princes and the royal family, while Basel was close to the Swiss Confederation.

Strasbourg wasn’t the powder keg. Rosenheim and Basel were. With the Confederation stepping in, escalation to an international war was a foregone conclusion, so whoever declared war first would be on the back foot.

Because the banner of protecting an ally who has been attacked justifies absolutely everything.

That was why steering the situation so that the Swiss Confederation never intervened mattered above all else. The fortunate part was that our collective wisdom had let us see through the strategy of Basel and the Confederation.

And it was Ted and Drek, of all people, who had dragged it into the open, by way of the unlikely backwards question of what situation would piss me off the most.

Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then, I suppose.

"Thanks to you two thinking backward, we were able to read the enemy’s grand strategy. If we bring this war to a victorious end, the credit will be yours above anyone’s. From now on, when my officers draw up strategy, I want you to start by studying how best to piss me off."

I’d meant it as a joke to lighten the mood, but all it produced was an awkward silence. Drek and Ted in particular were trembling as though they’d committed some grave crime. Why had the room seized up like this?

The commanders who met my eyes quickly bowed their heads. Hmm, it seemed I was angry enough to be giving off bloodlust. Even Viktor and August avoided my gaze.

The mood only eased after a glass of wine.

"If this is their strategy, the Count of Basel can never declare war on me first."

"Exactly. Their whole plan is meticulously arranged to make you declare first, my lord. Put the other way around, it means Basel cannot open an all-out war of their own."

"I see! They’ll cling to that defender’s justification for dear life!"

Justifications for declaring war vary enormously depending on who attacks and who defends, and since the defender’s position is what legitimizes the Confederation’s intervention, Basel will never let go of it.

Which is to say that even if I burn one of Basel’s holdings, the count can’t easily declare war. If they become the attacker, the Confederation’s intervention can be branded as an invasion.

That would hand the Duchy of Beren a legitimate justification to attack the Swiss Confederation. The reason the grand duke couldn’t interfere in the cozy relationship between Basel and the Confederation was that he had no such justification.

If they hand him one themselves, the grand duke can brand Basel, that thorn in his side, as rebels and push through the reclamation of their lands. That alone would wreck their grand strategy.

Which is exactly why they mean to hit Vintenheim, to force me into declaring war!

If I hadn’t known, I’d have been checkmated. And the men who saw through this terrifying grand strategy were, ironically, Drek and Ted, who stumbled onto it while imagining what would enrage me most.

I intend to reward them handsomely later.

A change in perspective really does make all the difference.

"Sir Falkenheim, take the main body of the Gale Knights and ride for Vintenheim ahead of us. The fact that they gave me two days means their preparations aren’t yet complete. Leave no gaps in your defense."

"I will carry out your order, my lord!"

"I’ll attach Anton and Drek to you."

"Sir? Then what cavalry will support you..."

Why would you assume I’d have none?

My gaze settled on Barosi and Herto.

"I need you and your Hungarian cavalry."

"Us, my lord? Give us any order you like!"

There hadn’t been many battlefields where Hungarian cavalry could shine, so until now those foreigners had drawn skeptical looks, with people wondering why I’d gone out of my way to bring them into Rosenheim.

That’s about to change.

"After we win the noble battle, you’ll ride into Basel with me."

"M-my lord, surely you don’t mean to march all the way into Basel?"

"I do. It’s about time I treated myself to that outing."

An outing for me. A nightmare for Basel.

I’ll grind them down so thoroughly they never try a stunt like this again.