Chapter 411: Blade on a Gun

For reference, the highest authority in Mainz and Cologne is the archbishop. Quite a few imperial free cities are ruled by archbishops, and along with the sale of indulgences, those cities are one of the papacy’s major sources of income.

"Gens is said to have worked at the Gutenberg print shop in Mainz."

"Gutenberg? The place that built the first printing press?"

"Yes. Thanks to that, anyone in Mainz with money can own a Bible now. In any case, he claimed he had come to Strasbourg to start a printing business, but looking back on it now, there was a great deal about him that was strange."

The old man called Gens had looked like someone on the run, and for a while he took shelter with Wenzenberg, working as an engraver in exchange for protection.

Wenzenberg, for his part, made use of Gens’s talents free of charge. Putting an old man in trouble to work for nothing under the pretext of protecting him? When I glared at him, he trembled and made excuses, insisting he had provided the man’s food, clothing, and lodging in full.

"Then one day, out of nowhere, he announced he no longer needed protection and up and left."

"That’s a bit odd. How did he know he no longer needed protection?"

"This is only my guess, but I suspect it has to do with the general amnesty proclaimed by the Archbishop of Mainz."

It’s fairly well known that when the tyrannical Archbishop of Mainz died, the new archbishop proclaimed a general amnesty. It wasn’t a stretch for Wenzenberg to connect that amnesty to Gens, a Mainz native.

"If he’s having trouble finding a patron, bring the old man to Vintenheim."

"Pardon? You mean to go into the printing business, my lord?"

"I have a younger sibling who writes novels as a hobby, and she wanted to see them made into books. So I’d like to grant her request and bring printing technology to Rosenheim while I’m at it."

"Ah, you must cherish that sibling very much. Understood."

Wenzenberg wore a baffled look, as if to say what a peculiar hobby that was, but since the request came from me, he agreed without protest. I must never, ever let him find out that this sibling is the crown princess.

Once Wenzenberg had gone, Anton, who had been waiting his turn, spoke up.

"Master, is it truly necessary to lower the tariffs for the merchants’ sake?"

"Are you fretting over your master’s purse?"

"I only wonder whether those followers of Mammon are worth such generosity..."

"Lowering the tariffs and tolls will certainly cut into my income."

But I said nothing about reducing the merchant tax. Merchants pay three kinds of taxes at a minimum: tariffs, tolls, and the merchant tax. The last of these is what outside merchants pay for the right to do business in my territory.

Of course, settled merchants must pay a similar market usage tax. On top of that, there are taxes on liquor and on every sort of craft and luxury good, and even staples like bread and meat are taxed.

They really do tax everything under the sun. That’s also why most commoners live on oatmeal as their staple. My plan is to attract merchants on a large scale first, then phase out the unreasonable taxes step by step.

Pouring enormous sums into Vintenheim will inevitably draw people. Then, by lowering tariffs and tolls, I’ll grow the scale of commerce and make Vintenheim the hub of trade on the upper Main River.

For that, tax reform is unavoidable. I can’t give up the massive market of Breisburg with its thirty thousand people, or the advantages of the Main River linking us all the way to the Swiss Confederation and Austria.

It was Karsten, the former commander of the Grand Duke’s Guard, who set all this in motion when he burned Breisach to the ground. Hmm, when I catch that bastard someday, I’ll have to treat him with all due courtesy. Killing him as cleanly and honorably as possible wouldn’t be bad either.

"Do you understand my intent now? Hmm, it seems you don’t."

"My-my apologies. I will simply devote myself to my duties."

"Hahaha, good. That’s the most important thing of all."

As lord, I draw the big picture and present the vision, and my retainers need only fulfill their duties. It’s the most basic thing of all, and yet the hardest. Now that I’ve set the direction, all that’s left is for Vintenheim to flourish.

And two weeks later, I returned to Rosenheim.

Damn it, so much for hurrying back. The trip ate up a full two weeks.

"Oh? A hundred and fifty men signed up? Impressive."

"Yes. Far more young men answered the call than we expected."

Oscar looked terribly proud of himself.

The population isn’t even a thousand, and yet a hundred and fifty came forward.

"Must be every idle layabout with nothing better to do."

"Actually, most of them are second sons struggling to make a living."

Young men like that usually either head up to Breisburg or slide into a life of crime. Since the eldest son inherits the entire family trade, second sons don’t get many opportunities.

"Ted has stepped down as training instructor. He’s busy organizing the search unit."

"Then who’s serving as training instructor now?"

"Erich Hennings. Ted recommended him enthusiastically."

"Really? Turns out he had more talent than I thought."

I hear he’s putting the hundred and fifty through the wringer with everything he’s got. The question is how many of them will last. We can’t just hand guns and gunpowder to anyone, so they need at least the mental fortitude to survive basic training.

If they were a ragtag mob, their first thought would be to sell off the gunpowder and firearms they were issued. I once heard that in some armies, the flints issued for lighting match cord are the item most often sold off.

And the Rosenschmidt family presented me with the firearms they had reproduced.

They’ve turned out some fifty guns so far. Only the initial development was hard. Once they had worked out the method, they churned them out in no time. Wilhelm Rosenschmidt, who had vowed to build one in three days, kept his promise.

"Very well made. From now on, your task is to improve these firearms."

"Im-improve them? Improve them how, exactly...?"

"Think about it. How long are you going to keep lugging match cord around? I mean improve them so the gun can fire without the bother of lighting a match. If you can’t manage it, I’ll ask the Feuzen blacksmith..."

"I’ll do it! I’ll absolutely do it!"

Sparks flew from the eyes of the Rosenschmidt craftsmen. Competition drives progress. Then I showed them the spike-style bayonet the Feuzen blacksmith had sent.

The Feuzen blacksmith reported that he had developed it in partnership with a blacksmith who came from Boeven. Calling it splendid work, I rewarded both men. Hmm, might as well use this chance to set Rosenheim and Feuzen against each other.

"We also need a mounting mechanism so this bayonet can be fixed in place securely."

"You’d fit a blade onto a gun? Whoever heard of such a thing!"

Wilhelm looked shaken to his core.

When I told him the Feuzen blacksmiths had developed it on my orders, he made another bold promise. And this time, I sent word to the Feuzen blacksmiths ordering them to improve the bayonet.

If I keep them competing like this, refining the firearms further and further, might we someday reach breech-loading technology? From now on, I’ll make sure that when people think firearms, they think Streit.

I’d been hoping to relax over tea and chat with Hilda, but Daniel came charging up to me and dragged me off to the lord’s office. Then he brought in about ten scrolls.

"Master, quite a few unread letters have piled up in your absence."

"What? Why have so many letters suddenly come in?"

"Most are from the east. I’ve sorted them in order of importance."

Right, thaaanks so much.

Still, Göring had trained him well. Daniel looked every inch the competent butler and secretary. The boy who was raised in the slums, abused by a drunkard of a father, had grown up before I knew it.

"Returning after the carnival ends? His Highness the grand duke clearly intends to play to his heart’s content before coming home."

The same goes for the western lords. It seems the old men headed straight for the warm east to recuperate the moment the war ended. And there it was, the reply I’d been waiting for from Count Euz.

Hmm, he’s put it on hold, but at least he didn’t refuse.

We agreed to meet face to face in Breisburg and settle the matter there.