Chapter 219: Explosive Bombs

Fernando gestured with a gloved hand toward the pig farm.

Sitting on a barrel right next to the Spanish spy was a third man.

He was wearing a dirty hemp rope around his neck, and a black brand was burned into the center of his forehead.

Even in the rain, the scarred man was casually flipping a throwing knife into the air and catching it by the sharp blade.

"Captain Vargas might smell like cheap ale and bad decisions, but before he was an Imperial mercenary, he was an esteemed alchemist in Vienna. If anyone can read Konrad’s chemical formulas and tell us if my theories are nonsense or not, it is him," Fernando said.

Though Diego still looked skeptical, he grunted in agreement and kicked his spurs into his horse’s sides, leading the way into the courtyard of the farm.

The Spanish spy stepped out from the shadows of the porch.

"Fernando," the spy said smoothly, resting a hand on his hip. "I have what you asked for. The Swabian King’s closest secrets... But the job was significantly harder than we agreed upon. King Konrad almost shot me himself. The price has doubled."

"Has it now?" Fernando asked.

Fernando leaned forward on his saddle, dragging his useless legs through the muck until his horse stood just a few feet away from the spy.

"You agreed to fifty gold florins," Fernando stated, his eyes locking onto the spy’s hooded face.

"And now I want a hundred," the spy smirked, patting a tube tied to his belt. "Or I can just take a fast carriage down to France and sell these blueprints to the Valois King."

However, the spy had made a grand miscalculation.

Fernando just turned his head slightly toward the scarred man sitting on the broken barrel.

"Vargas," Fernando said softly.

Before the Spanish spy could even take a single breath, Vargas flicked his wrist with blinding speed.

The throwing knife flew through the freezing rain and buried itself directly into the center of the spy’s throat.

The spy’s arrogant smirk instantly vanished. His hands flew up to his neck, his eyes wide with shock as hot blood poured down the front of his black cloak.

He made a horrible, wet gurgling sound before collapsing face-first into the mud.

"Prices are highly negotiable in Salzburg..." Fernando chuckled, leaning on his crutches as the guards helped him down from his horse.

Diego stepped forward with a booming laugh. He reached down into the mud, wholly ignoring the dying spy, and ripped the leather tube straight off the man’s belt.

"You are a cheap bastard, Fernando," Diego grinned, wiping a smear of blood off the container.

"Let us get out of this cursed rain," Fernando ordered.

Fernando, Diego, and the knife-throwing alchemist, Vargas, stepped out of the storm and into the abandoned pig barn.

The guards quickly lit a small fire in the center of the dirt floors.

Diego popped the cork off the leather tube and pulled out a stack of tightly rolled parchment. He handed them to Vargas.

"Read them," Diego ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell us if the Spaniard died for nothing."

Even so, Vargas did not immediately rush. The man pulled a second throwing knife from his fur belt, using the sharp tip to carefully unroll the stolen blueprints by the flickering light of the fire.

Fernando leaned forward on his crutches, his heart beating a little faster.

This was the moment of truth.

If the blueprints were useless, his entire strategy to destroy King Konrad and the Swabian empire would crumble into the mud.

"Well?" Fernando asked, his voice tight with anticipation. "Is it the explosive powder?"

After hearing such words, Vargas slowly looked up from the parchment.

The man wiped a drop of rainwater from his burned forehead, a look of genuine awe crossing his rough face.

"Fernando..." Vargas whispered. "The saltpeter... The Swabian King uses an incredibly pure mixture."

Diego’s eyes widened. "Can we make it? Do we have the ingredients?"

"We can find sulfur in the alpine volcanic rocks," Vargas nodded slowly, tapping the parchment with his knife. "Charcoal is just burnt wood. And saltpeter... it can be harvested from the towering piles of bat guano in the mountain caves, or even from the rotting soil beneath our own cavalry stables. It will take a few weeks to boil and purify it properly... but yes. We can make the powder."

"Yes!!" Diego roared, slamming his fist against the wall of the barn.

Fernando let out a long breath.

He looked at the stolen blueprints, imagining the sheer power now resting in his crippled hands.

Vargas rolled the priceless blueprints back up, sliding them into his coat.

He looked at the crippled duke, flipping his knife from one hand to the other.

"Even with these explosive bombs, if we try to march our men toward Augsburg, General Richter’s heavy artillery will blow us into pieces before we get anywhere near his stone walls."

"I know," Fernando smiled. "Konrad is paranoid... He will double his border patrols."

***

October 15, 1527 AD

Salzburg, Austrian Empire

One full month had passed since the coronation festival and the theft of the blueprints.

Now, far inside the muddy streets of Salzburg, a surprisingly nice man was taking a casual morning stroll.

"Beautiful morning for a walk in the mud, eh, Tomas?"

"Keep the change, my friend... Buy your wife something pretty!"

"May the Maker bless your pockets, inspector!" the merchant cheered, biting the silver coin to make sure it was real before waving happily.

The nice man finally reached the end of the merchant district, stopping right in front of a shadowy building near the edge of the river docks.

"Ahh! Here it is!" Inspector Klaus announced cheerfully, pointing a finger at the quiet tavern.

The bribed Austrian guard captain stepped forward, looking nervously at the building.

"But, inspector... the place is closed down."

"Nonsense!" Klaus laughed, waving his hand playfully. "I know that the place is closed, but maybe the owner is just sleeping in late... And those bastards did not pay their city taxes for months!"