Oh, I see it, painter. I see everything you hope I’ll see without your having to say it. On the surface, the change of oath was just to minimize any possibility of disaffection or departure arising from any mention of direct fealty to the increasingly unpopular King of Spain. But, there was an underlying subtlety which, Preston was quite sure, was the real intent of the change of oath. We’ll only be swearing fealty to Isabella. And, unless I’m much mistaken, to her nephew.
Rubens’ next words confirmed his suspicions. “However, as a precaution, we will not point out the fact—which could be easily misconstrued, of course—that, in agreeing to renew your oaths to Her Grace the Infanta, that your service is most likely to be commanded by her nephew, whom she has been pleased to confirm as the senior power in her lands. So, although you now also serve the king in the Low Countries, that additional, extrapolative detail will remain unadvertised. For the moment.”
Yes, for the moment. But Preston had been a pawn on the chessboard where kings played their games for many decades and could see where this political compass was pointing. With the oaths of the Wild Geese transferred directly to Fernando, their obedience and their fates were locked to him, not to Spain. Yes, technically Fernando was still a vassal of Spain, but how long that would continue was debatable. And so, when and if the Lowlands became fully and officially separate from the throne in Madrid, the Irish tercios would follow suit. And they would indeed comprise the loyal core of its army, since Philip’s tercios in the Lowlands would most assuredly not follow the same path. But, problematically, they would still be in the same country. Preston flinched at the thought of his tercio squaring off against their former Spanish counterparts. That would be a bloody, internecine business indeed—
“Is this change in the oath acceptable to you and your men, Colonel Preston?” Rubens asked. His small eyes did not blink.
“I will have to put it to them. However, given recent events, I think it will not only be acceptable but preferable. However, they will ask a question I cannot answer: how will they be paid? Already, the reales from Spain are few and far between. If it wasn’t for the deal Hugh O’Donnell struck with the Frenchman Turenne, earlier this year, I don’t know what we would have done for food these past three months. But that supply is almost over—and truth be told, I was never comfortable with the arrangement.”
“And why is that?” Maria Anna asked.
“Because, your Highness, until France and Madrid cooperated at the Battle of Dunkirk, the French had been the enemies of this realm, ever threatening the southern borders of the Brabant. I should know; I spent many months in garrison there, over the years. And then suddenly we are at peace—but it’s a peace which is already fraying. So in taking bread from Turenne, we took bread from a past, and very possibly future, adversary of this court. I was not comfortable condoning it, but I was less comfortable seeing my men’s families starve. So when O’Donnell arranged it by serving Turenne along with sixty of the men of his tercio, I had little choice but to accept it. And, I must speak frankly, it brought trouble along with it.”
“Oh?” asked Rubens. “What kind of trouble?”
“French trouble, Your Grace. Their agents have been lurking around our camps, letting it be known that the king of France is hiring mercenaries, and can pay them in hard coin, not cabbages and watered beer.”
Rubens looked at the ruling troika. They just kept watching Preston. None of them blinked, but Maria Anna might have suppressed a small smile.
Rubens rotated one thumb around the other. “And have any of your men left our service for theirs?”
“No, but I worry that they may. I’ve heard rumors—rumors from this court—that some nobles here speak ill of us Wild Geese, say that we should be grateful for the scraps we’re given, and that some of us are already taking service with the French.”
“Yes,” said Ruben, twirling his moustache, “we have heard the same thing. Largely, because we spread those rumors ourselves.”
Preston gaped. “You what?”
Maria Anna leaned forward; Preston tried to ignore the way it compressed her bosom. “Colonel, the privations of your people have never been intentional, but in the last two months, we discovered that they lent credence to the belief in Paris that our grasp upon your continued loyalty was weak, and that certain members of the Wild Geese were indeed finding it necessary to seek employment elsewhere. To be more specific, to seek employment with the French themselves.”
Preston felt heat rise in his face. “Your Highness, one of us did. The very best of us, some might say. Hugh Albert O’Donnell may have fed us, but he did it by agreeing to serve Turenne. Turenne! He’s Richelieu’s hand-picked military favorite. If the earl of Tyrconnell will take service with the French, then why shouldn’t they think more of us will follow? And sixty of us did, the ones who went with O’Donnell.”