Buying Franz Meyer's Heart
Meanwhile, the Kruzenstein forces were locked in urgent council over a letter that had arrived without warning.
Only Leona and a bare handful of her most trusted confidants attended. The matter was far too sensitive to risk any leak, so she had summoned in secret only those few she trusted absolutely.
And with good reason. If the letter proved true, the very fate of her house would be rewritten.
The subject of the meeting was a letter from the Meyer family.
To Lady Leona von Kruzenstein.
Please make use once more of the side path employed during the Eleventh Invasion of the year 545, for the forthcoming Fourteenth Invasion. I shall leave the road to the Torgenberg Duchy open for you.
— Franz Meyer, Head of the Meyer Family
Leona could scarcely contain the sudden pounding of her heart. She turned to her subordinate.
“How did this letter come into our hands?”
The administrator who had first brought it answered at once.
“In my youth I studied at the temple alongside a classmate named Bran. He later entered service with the Meyer family as an administrator. We still exchange letters from time to time. He told me this was a letter he had received from his direct superior, Lucill Meyer, and begged me to deliver it to my lord in the utmost secrecy.”
We still exchange letters from time to time. Leona understood perfectly what that meant. This same administrator had once submitted a detailed report on the recent state of the Meyer family. Where else could that information have come from, if not this friend? And what had he given in return? Intelligence on House Kruzenstein, of course. Two friends trading secrets of their respective houses and climbing the ranks on the proceeds. It was hardly the conduct of a loyal vassal, yet in these troubled times it was common enough. Leona decided to let the matter pass without comment.
What mattered far more was the source. If the letter had come through a Meyer administrator, its authenticity was beyond question.
That the letter was written in Franz Meyer’s own hand was one thing. The real question was whether Franz Meyer truly intended to betray his lord.
“My lord, this is a trap.”
The speaker was Rainbern, Leona’s childhood tutor and strategist—an old man with a long white beard.
“If we send a detachment through that side path, the enemy will be waiting to annihilate it.”
“A plausible theory.”
“Then shall we dismiss the matter—”
“Except that such a scheme does not suit Franz Meyer.”
“My lord?”
“Franz Meyer has spent his entire life protecting the name of Meyer. During the Eleventh Invasion he could have opened the road all the way to Torgenberg, yet he chose the Scorched Earth Strategy, burned his own lands, and shielded his lord. When Henrik fell, he stood by Henrik’s side to the very end. Would a man like that soil his family’s name merely to lure three thousand soldiers into a trap? Does that not strike you as strange?”
“That is…”
Leona gave a low laugh.
“If Franz Meyer truly means to trap me with this, then I am more than willing to walk into it. If the price he is prepared to pay—sacrificing the Meyer name he has spent a lifetime building—is nothing more than three thousand men, then those three thousand are worth the trade.”
“If that is Your Lordship’s will… I will not press the point further. Let us send Albert. Losing him would cost our army little, and he is so desperate for any scrap of glory that he is perfect for a venture of this sort.”
The old man’s cold assessment swept through the chamber, but Leona quietly shook her head.
“No. This task goes to Clemens de Balboa. You.”
“My lord, I must have misheard—”
“Clemens de Balboa will lead this operation.”
“But my lord! Clemens de Balboa is your right hand, your vanguard general! To send a man of his worth on so perilous a mission—what if the Meyers truly betray us?!”
“Do you not understand?”
Leona could no longer hold back her laughter. On any other day the situation would have frustrated her; today it filled her with pure delight. She kept laughing, her voice bright with unrestrained amusement as she spoke.
“Listen carefully. I will say this only once. Torgenberg Duchy, House Setia—none of that matters. Pound them long enough and they will fall into our hands eventually. What truly matters is something else entirely. It is Franz Meyer’s heart.”
“My lord? What do you mean—”
“What I wish to purchase is Franz Meyer’s heart. That is why I am sending my right hand as a token of trust. I believe in you, Sir Franz. There exists a lord who desires you a hundred times more than Adel von Setia ever could. When someone wants you this badly, will you not come to me? That is the proposal I am making by sending my right hand!”
“…”
“…”
The chamber fell silent. No one dared speak. For in Leona’s voice there burned a madness utterly unlike her usual self.
“Truth be told, I wanted to go myself. I wanted to stake my own life and place it in Franz Meyer’s hands. Kill me if you will. But if you will not, then come under my banner. That is what I longed to say. Why? Because Franz Meyer is worth that much. The loyalty, the skill, and the cunning he has shown surpass anyone I have ever known. Therefore I will do anything—anything—to make him mine!”
“…”
“But if I go in person, suspicion is inevitable. An army of twenty thousand advances, yet its lord does not take the field? They would be certain some other scheme was afoot. And then our entire plan might be exposed. That is why I cannot go myself and must send my right hand instead. Clemens. You are my double. Do you find the role distasteful?”
“Not at all. To serve as my lord’s double is nothing but an honor.”
“Then go. I give you three thousand men. Once again, strike deep into enemy territory. Ah—and one more thing.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“If the operation succeeds, do not kill Adel von Setia or his retainers. Capture them alive. I have uses for them.”
“Understood.”
And so Clemens’s march on Torgenberg was decided.
It was the twenty-fourth day of the third month, Imperial Year 553.
Three weeks later—the fifteenth day of the fourth month, Imperial Year 553—House Kruzenstein invaded. The Fourteenth Kruzenstein–Setia War had begun.
“Haa…”
I had never felt more tense. Everything hinged on how my plan unfolded this time; the future of House Meyer itself would be rewritten by the outcome.
“Can I really pull this off?”
Can I… betray them properly?
The day of betrayal had arrived. I led my troops out of Meyer Castle. And as I left the gates, I sent a letter to my lord.
My lord,
Please take personal command in this war.
— Franz Meyer
It was my final act of mercy. If my lord took the field himself, he would live. The Kruzenstein detachment would head straight for Torgenberg Castle; if he rode with the main army he would be safe, and if he did not, he would die. That was why I had written: My lord, take the field and live. But…
I leave all matters of war in your hands.
My lord never took the field. He was busy crafting a new kite with his disciples. On Lando’s advice the four great houses took command of the lord’s forces, and my lord discarded my final counsel without a second thought.
“Ha! Look at that face. Where has all that swagger gone? You look ready for the grave.”
At the war council the head of House Endia opened with a direct jab at Franz.
“Sir Lando has taken our side. Our lord sides with Sir Lando, and Sir Lando sides with the four great houses—so the four great houses have finally crushed the royalist faction. He who rose by faction has fallen by faction. How does defeat taste?”
“…”
“Our lord is terribly fond of kites, you know. He has bestowed one upon each of the four great houses. He will give you one soon enough as well—a kite with its string cut, no doubt! Hahaha!”
The members of the four great houses pointed and laughed together. They had no idea what would become of them in a month—no, in two weeks.
“I am sorry.”
“Ha! Lowering your tail now is far too late! The only repayment for your arrogance until now is the ruin of House Meyer! At the very least, let us enjoy the spectacle of your fall!”
“I was not apologizing for my past actions.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?!”
“I am apologizing for what I am about to do.”
With those words Franz Meyer rose from his seat. While the four great houses still stared in confusion, urgent news arrived.
“Emergency! Emergency! An enemy detachment has surrounded Torgenberg!”
“Wh-what?!”
Only then did Endia understand.
What Franz Meyer had been apologizing for.