Noelle sat down on the bed. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's already late afternoon, though. So I think the smartest thing to do is just wait until nightfall, and see if the Ram's people here approach us. If not . . . we'll decide tomorrow."
Eddie nodded. Then, none too cheerfully, examined the rough-hewn wood floor.
"Oh, relax," said Noelle. "We can share the bed."
He got a solemn look on his face and placed his hand over his heart. "I vow that I have no intentions on your virtue."
Noelle chuckled. "I wasn't actually worried about it."
She wasn't, in fact. In the time since they'd started working together, her relationship with Eddie Junker had settled into something quite comfortable for her. For Eddie too, she thought. Something of a cross between friends and older sister/younger brother.
There was certainly nothing romantic about it. That might seem odd to someone observing them, since she and Eddie were both reasonably attractive, intelligent, and were almost the same age. But, for whatever reasons these things happened—or didn't—there had simply never been any "chemistry" between them.
True, some of that might be due to Noelle's still-official I'm thinking about becoming a nun position. But, she didn't think so. She just wasn't Eddie's "type," whatever type that might be. And he certainly wasn't hers, insofar as she could figure out if there was any type of man who might appeal to her that way. She hadn't met one yet, leaving aside a couple of casual boyfriends in high school and junior college. Those relationships hadn't lasted long, however—and she was the only virgin her age she knew.
"So I feared," groaned Eddie. Noelle chuckled again.
Franconia, late April, 1634
With Margrave Christian's declaration of neutrality on behalf of himself and his nephews, the Franconian Protestant knights and lords took arms against the USE/SoTF administration, under the leadership of Freiherr Fuchs von Bimbach.
Which, of course, made the newspapers. Banner headlines, in fact.
Steve Salatto was very unhappy.
Arnold Bellamy was even unhappier, mainly because he had no additional resources whatsoever with which to assist the SoTF administration in Franconia. Nor was the SoTF Congress meeting. He spoke urgently with Ed Piazza about the need for a special session.
Mike Stearns was more than profoundly annoyed. Not with Steve Salatto or the Franconian farmers, however, but with Wilhelm Wettin—who was viewing the situation in Franconia with alarm. Great alarm. Quite frequently. Wilhelm thought that something should be done.
Scott Blackwell was not as unhappy as Steve. The knights and lords, collectively, could not put many men into the field. Few of them had the financial resources to hire more than a couple dozen professionals. Most were dependent upon calling out a levy of their own subjects, who largely refused to cooperate on the grounds that they had already sworn oaths of allegiance to the State of Thuringia-Franconia, against which their lords were rebelling.
"They'll get hammered," he said confidently. "You watch. My money's on the farmers."
Steve eyed him quizzically. "I take it you don't propose to intervene militarily?"
Blackwell shrugged. "Oh, at some point, I imagine I will—here and there, anyway. But I think it's all to the good to let those arrogant knights get the shit beat out of them. Better still, if it's done by the local farmers instead of us."
Steve understood the logic. He didn't even disagree with it, although it rubbed all his well-honed civil servant instincts the wrong way. But, still . . .
Unhappily, he gazed down at the newspaper on his desk.
"Big headlines, huh?" said Scott cheerfully.
"You are not joking?" asked Captain Boetinger.
"No," replied the lieutenant. "The city council invited a peasant delegation to come into the city. The delegation included a couple of the ram movement's prominent leaders, including two men from the Gemeinde at Frankenwinheim. And then, no sooner were the gates closed, than they arrested the entire delegation."
"They say they are going to deliver them, as rebellious and insubordinate subjects, each to his own lord, for a fitting and suitable punishment," added the sergeant who had come into the headquarters with the lieutenant.
The captain of the USE/SoTF garrison at Gerolzhofen shook his head. "Amazing. Some people seem incapable of learning anything. Ah, well, so be it. Order out the garrison, Lieutenant Neidhart. We shall continue the educational process, as the Americans call it."