Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[OverKnight]

Matthias reined in his horse, a loud oath escaping his lips. There was no way his men would be able to catch Maximillian von Hapsburg. With a bellowed command that betrayed the Viceroy's frustration, the Crusader Cavalry pivoted and began trotting back to the battlefield.

Matthias rode in stony silence. In the past he had fought against impossible odds, gone on Crusade, liberated Outremer from the Greeks, killed Khans and Strategoi and yet for the most important battle in the history of the Reich he had contributed nothing. He and his men had assembled a great armada, braved stormy seas and sailed halfway across the known world only to have their plans ruined by a simple broken axle on the wagon carrying the Great Cross. The largest host on the Republican side, at least before the battle started, was reduced to capturing a few fleeing Imperials, and even that with limited success.

Shaking his head, Matthias tried to look on the bright side. The Republicans were victorious, Imperial resistance had been crushed and few had escaped to fight again. All had gone according to plan, a rare event. Yet in this moment of triumph, his mind returned to Outremer. The Civil War was over, but would there be enough men and florins available to face the newest threat from the Steppes, much less the Greeks, Turks and Egyptians? He was old, had never felt older then when he watched von Hapsburg disappear over the horizon, who would take the Cross to replace him and the much missed Andreas? Both Hughes de Cervole and Ludwig von Bohmen had expressed interest in the past, but those two were now the last Swabians left standing. With such losses in the battle, could the Houses spare anyone?

He had thought of offering positions in Outremer to any surviving Imperial nobles who surrendered and pledged loyalty. However, as he pursued Hapsburg he had glimpsed the Count's compatriots charging into the fray, choosing death over surrender. A gallant gesture, but of little help to the Kingdom.

As if summoned by these thoughts, Matthias and his men came upon the aftermath of the last engagement of the battle. Dead men and horses were scattered the area, bearing the livery of Duke von Salza, Tancred von Tyrolia and, surprisingly, Fritz von Kastilien. Survivors milled about, Republicans herding a few prisoners, wounded men crying out and mercenaries stripping the Imperial dead of valuables.

It was then, with a shock, that Matthias recognized one of the fallen, it was Fritz von Kastilien himself. Not only a Brother of the Order, but the man who's arrival on the field had turned the battle to the Republic.

Dismounting, he slowly walked over to Fritz. Kneeling, he checked for a pulse, but the horrible wounds visible on the Franconian mocked that effort. All he could do was close the dead man's eyes. Groaning, Matthias fell heavily back, sitting in the mud and filth of the field as he gazed at his fallen comrade.

They had fought, and Fritz had died, to bring down the Empire. The Throne could have been his, a simple act of taking down one Kastilien and putting another in his place. It had been discussed, but when Matthias had proposed a Republic, Fritz had enthusiatically agreed. Yet what shape was the New Order to have? The idea of the Republic was a fine rallying cry, but would it actually come to pass? The Order had ruled from the shadows for so long, would they be able to come into the light of day, to rule with, not over, the brave men who had taken their side? Matthias bowed his head, he hoped so, but old habits might die hard.

Matthias slowly pulled himself up out of the mud. The last battle of the Empire was over, but it was only the first for the Republic. The future was uncertain for Outremer and the Republic, but he would fight for both to his last breath.

Walking back to his horse, Matthias retrieved a black cloak from his saddlebags. It had been given to him many years ago by Lothar when his brother had welcomed him into the Order. Matthias carefully laid the cloak over Fritz's body as he said the Lord's Prayer. It was hardly a proper shroud, but it would serve.

"No more secrets," Matthias said to the fallen.

There was much left to do.