Maximilian of Bavaria, on the other hand, was not annoying. He was downright awful.
A tavern in Melsungen, in the province of Hesse-Kassel
“Here’s to the health of our landgravine!” shouted one of the revelers, holding up his stein of beer. “Long may she reign!”
The tavern was full, as it often was on a winter’s eve. Not a single stein failed to come up to join the toast.
Another reveler stood up, hoisting his stein. “And here’s to the emperor! May he drive a hard bargain!”
Not a single stein came up to join that toast. Confused, the reveler looked around. Then, realizing his error, hoisted his stein again.
“But not too hard!”
Now the steins came up to join him.
A tavern on the coast of the Pomeranian Bay
The fisherman squinted at the newssheet. “D’you think they’ll be able to reach an agreement?”
“Is the sea wet?” asked one of his companions.
“Is the sea salty?” asked the other.
Paris, capital of France
After he finished reading the copies of the intercepted radio messages that Servien had given him, Richelieu rose from his desk and went over to one of the window in his palace.
“What do you think will come out of it, Your Grace?” asked Servien.
“Nothing good for France,” was the cardinal’s reply.
Madrid, capital of Spain
There was no reaction to the upcoming meeting in the court of Spain.
They had no radio. They wouldn’t receive the news for days yet.
Brussels, capital of the Netherlands
Fernando I looked around the conference table at his closest advisers.
“We’re all agreed, then?” said the king in the Netherlands. “We will make no further effort to improve our position?”
“Not with the Swede and Stearns about to reach an agreement,” said Rubens. “We’d just be wasting our time.”
“Can we be so sure of that?” wondered Scaglia. “They haven’t reached an agreement yet. Maybe they won’t be able to.”
Archduchess Isabella sniffed. “And maybe horses will learn to sing. But I’m still not wasting my time by going to the stables and sitting around in the hopes it might happen.”
Poznan, Poland
“The king refuses to accept the Swede’s offer of a truce,” said Stanislaw Koniecpolski. “As I expected.”
Lukasz Opalinski’s had expected exactly the same thing. Wladyslaw IV was as predictable as the Sejm. Given a choice between two options, you could always rely on them to choose the wrong one.
“Still no word from Jozef?”
Lukasz shook his head. “He must not have found any new batteries yet.”
Dresden, capital of Saxony
Actually, Jozef had found new batteries. When Eddie Junker had returned, he’d flown in some emergency supplies. They’d all been high-value and low-weight, of course. Among them had been some batteries.
Unfortunately, Gretchen Richter had placed them under lock and key and he had no legitimate reason he could simply ask for some. So he’d been trying to figure out how he might steal a few.
Reluctantly. He felt like a dwarf of legend trying to figure out how to steal part of a dragon’s treasure. A blonde and good-looking dragon. But still a dragon.
True, the dragon had been pre-occupied of late with her husband. People had been making jokes about it.
But that was not particularly comforting. Not when the husband commanded a regiment called the Hangman and was said to have cut off a general’s head with his own volley gun company.
Chapter 56
Magdeburg, capital of the United States of Europe
After the servant ushered Mike into Gustav Adolf’s chamber, he left, closing the door behind him. Mike watched him go, with a slight smile on his smile.
“Yes, yes,” said Gustav Adolf. “As you can see, I am adopting an up-time custom. We will actually have a private meeting.”
The emperor was sitting in a very large and very comfortable-looking armchair. Another one, equally large and comfortable-looking, was positioned a few feet away, angled toward his own. A low table sat between them, with a pot and two cups on it. There was also a bowl of sugar and a small pitcher of cream.
“Your preference is coffee, if I recall correctly. Black, no cream or sugar.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.”
Gustav Adolf lifted the pot and poured them both a cup. As he did so, he waved his hand. “Please, Michael. I think we would do better to keep this informal. Call me Gustav, if you would.”
Mike nodded and sat down. This was…interesting. Also unexpected. His relations with the king of Sweden had always been cordial, except in the heat of negotiations, but never what you’d call intimate. They’d been friendly but not friends. Was Gustav Adolf seeking to change that?