Swiss Arms 116 (Patreon)

Swiss Arms

Chapter 116

-VB-

Hans von Fluelaberg

Even as I made preparations and contacted my “teammates” across multiple realms, I still put the effort needed to rule my barony. 

It turned out that people were very interested in my soap and birthing hygiene procedures. 

But mostly my soap. 

Look, my lady wife wanted soap that didn’t hurt and smelled better, so I made her a soap that did just that. It didn’t even take a day for me, so I forgot about it. 

But now, the old midwife had gone and spread all sorts of rumors about how “smooth, clean, and fragrant” my soaps were, and I started getting requests from everyone. From the lowliest of commoners to the highest echelons of nobility. 

Like… How did the Bishop of Eichstatt send me a request only two months after my son was born?! Eichstatt was on the other side of Bavaria! When did the rumor go that far that quickly?! Did I even know anyone who knew the Bishop of Eichstatt? Was he there at the party last year? 

God, now I felt like an idiot for not knowing who the bishop was. 

But I did know the Prince-Bishop of Freising, and he also sent me a letter. 

Yeah, he wanted some good soap, too.

Was I going to become the soap baron? The man everyone in the know went to for their soaps? The Spotless Saint. The Bubbling Baron. The Foaming Fragrance. 

Oh God.

No, Dear God, please don’t let me be called any of those. 

“Love?”

I blinked and looked up. 

Isabella stood in front of me with Albert in her arms. Our two month old baby did … baby things. He wasn’t exactly all that aware yet, and considering how sleepy he looked, he might have been fed just now. 

“Yes?” I asked her tiredly. Of the eighteen high noble letters I’ve received, fifteen of them were about the soaps. 

She sighed as she gave me her opened letters. “My sister-in-laws are asking for the soaps.”

I threw the letter I had in my hand up into the air. 

She laughed.

“It’s your fault for making such wonderful soap! I didn’t think it would get out like this, though.”

“You make it sound like it was our best kept secret, Isabella,” I muttered. 

“It may as well have been. Do you know how many compliments I got at the last festival?” she giggled. “Oh well. All good things come and go.”

I grumbled. “Well, I think I’m gonna need someone to go through my mail for me soon.”

She continued to giggle. “And whose fault is that?” she asked me.

That would be me.

See, while I have been trying my best to expand the industries, living conditions, and more within my barony and the Compact, I unerringly put together a number of industries together. 

The first was security. I mean… this was kind of basic, yes, but the threat of my rangers, myself, and the united Compact made people wary about doing skulldaggery bullshit in my territory. Our history of victories also kept bigger names out of the picture. 

The second was the paper industry. While Chur was the big producer, it was inevitable that other members of the Compact began their own cottage paper industry. As a result of this, paper was a big export commodity for the Compact to its neighbors and the entire regions touching it. Our papers were smoother, tougher, and cheaper.

And finally, the Compact’s mailing system. While it’s only been two months since I took them on, the Compact Couriers (or formally known as the Department of Information) worked full time to get all sorts of paper related projects working and operational. While I didn’t initially give them the right to deal with letters directly, I did eventually.

The result?

The letters in my hands. 

Papers flew back and forth rapidly across the Compact. So much so that the Compact was now the hub of information exchange. Sure, most of these information was everyday stuff, but there were things like commodity price comparisons and world news passing through our lands faster than anywhere else. 

A good example of this was about a month ago when I received news about the conclusion of the Salt War between Padua and Venice faster than Henry did. And his realms were practically touching the serene republic! 

It was not the direction I intended to push the Compact, but came about to be semi-organically as a result of my actions. 

Eh.

I got what I deserved. This wasn’t a bad thing at all, even if it meant that I dealt with some distracting issues.

“Well, there is also a letter from the Count of Gorizia?”

I blinked.

“Father-in-law? The count?”

“No,” she shook her head. “My brother. Father’s passed away.”

My eyes widened. I nearly shot up to my feet and walked around the table to hug her. 

It was only then that she started crying a little, but even that was hampered by our Albert’s fussy reaction.

“Do you need me to…?”

“No, no,” she quickly shook her head. “Just … keep hugging me. Please.”

And so I did. 

---

Funeral arrangement was not our responsibility; not only was Isabella the youngest of her siblings, Albert I of Gorizia had two more sons close at home. 

And that’s where the problem laid. 

“Wait, so your brother, Henry, took over your dad’s Italian fiefs and your other brother, Albert II, took over the Tyrolian Lienz fief?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” Isabella, after an hour of grieving, managed to pull herself together. She’ll most likely grieve again later, but the content of the letter was a bit important for her to ignore. This was a show of inner strength from her, and I would respect it instead of asking her to go and grieve when she wanted something done before that. 

“And Henry wants my help in, what, conquering the Patriarchate of Aquileia? Is he nuts?” I asked her. “Why would I help him do that when I spent almost three years fighting off people who were doing what he’s doing?”

She shrugged. “You don’t have to help him.”

I blinked in surprise. “I… don’t?”

“My marriage with you was an informal alliance with my father, not my brothers,” she replied with a sniff. “And Henry might be nice and kind to the family, but he’s greedy as hell. He doesn’t deny it either. Besides, from what I know, he’s already allied with Treviso for that on top of the support he has from the Venetian doge for being part of the Guelph.”

Guelph. Wasn’t that the supports of the pope? And the other faction in Italy was the … Ghibellino or something like that.

“I assume the current Patriarch of the Aquileia is a Ghibellino then?” 

“He is.”

Ghibellinos were those who supported the Holy Roman Emperor in his power struggle against the pope. 

“Yeah, no. I’m not getting in the middle of that conflict.”

“I thought you might not want to,” she replied with a smile. Then she stood up from the sofa she’d been sitting on in my office. “I’ll leave you be then. Can you ask Alleria to take care of Albert until I come back?”

“Of course,” I told her. Alleria was the maidservant who came with Isabella when she first came to the barony, and has been her greatest supporter. Alleria was supposed to be getting married soon, but she put that off to help take care of our Albert. 

For that reason alone, I was probably going to make sure she and her soon-to-be husband remained firmly in my new house’s favor. 

It was only after Isabella left my solar that I leaned back and tried to reprocess everything I’ve learned. 

So.

County of Gorizia just got chopped in half. Albert II of Gorizia got the Pustur Valley between Lienz and Bruneck but not either of those towns. Henry III of Gorizia got everything else on the Italian side of the Alps. 

Henry III was raring to go into war to grow his fief and allied himself with the da Camino family of Treviso, who was the ruling house of Treviso and was on the other side of the Patriarchate of Aquileia from his lands. Patriarchate was far bigger than either of them, but the situation was distinctly familiar and similar to the Baron of Vaz and the Prince-Bishop of Chur. As in I think the new Patriarch of Aquileia was going to get his ass kicked.

… But that’s not my business. 

No, my business was that I no longer had obligation on that side of the family, and that meant that I could focus on my future war with Bavaria without having to worry about being randomly called into a war by my now deceased father-in-law.

Rest in peace, Albert. You let me marry your daughter, and I’ll be forever grateful. 

But I ain’t helping your greedy ass son.