The Tangled Web(132)

That evening, Nils Brahe's radio monitors in Mainz picked up the first message out of Euskirchen since Hartke had left the men behind nearly three months earlier.

Barracktown bei Fulda, February 1635

"Did the men say when they are returning?" Sergeant Hartke asked.

"Not a word. Hertling is very disappointed." Eberhard reached his bowl across the table. Tata filled it with another helping of stew.

Mainz, February 1635

"Are you going to order your men out of Euskirchen, now?" Hoheneck asked.

Brahe shook his head. "They're not listening to receive orders from us. They can't keep the antenna up and spend time listening for signals. They're only to send. It's up to them how long they stay."

"Micromanagement," Utt said. "It's something we're not doing."

Hoheneck eyed him. "Micromanagement. When are you letting me come back to Fulda?"

"When I decide it's prudent."

"Herr Springer has no opinion on the matter?"

Utt hesitated. "No decisive opinion. No 'immovable object' sort of opinion." He wasn't about to tell Hoheneck that Mel Springer didn't seem to be able to muster a decisive opinion as to whether he preferred his breakfast toast to be light or dark.

"So," Brahe said, "what did you think of the election results?"

"As a professional soldier, I do not have an opinion on the election results." Utt grinned. "Would you be interested in my wife's opinion of the election results? If so, she was pretty disgusted by the newspaper reports of the Crown Loyalist party's celebration in Magdeburg, given that . . ."

"What concerns me more," Brahe said, "is that we have had another eruption from Georg Wulf von Wildenstein."

"Fulda—Buchenland County—has heard from him, too. There's always his underlying Calvinist dislike of the continued toleration of Catholics, but now he's gotten wind of the LDS mission in Barracktown. Not that the administration has ever tried to hide that Monroe and Betty Wilson are there and what they're trying to do, you understand, but we haven't exactly gone out and yelled to the four winds about it—much less that a bunch of the early materials for the Barracktown school, before we had any money to buy textbooks, were sent over by the Grantville branch."

"What concerns me is that von Wildenstein may use his long-standing ties to Wilhelm of Hesse-Kassel to try to narrow the official USE policy of religious toleration." Brahe frowned. "He's not likely to focus on the Lutherans at first, given that the emperor is one and it's constitutionally the USE state church, but I can see his putting pressure on the government's handling of various minorities. That includes the Jews, by the way. Wamboldt von Umstadt is worried."

Euskirchen, Archdiocese of Cologne, February 1635

When Brahe's posse members met, they met in the evening around the still-warm forge of the farrier for whom Schild was working. Not many people in the encampment, dragoons or camp followers, still had decent fuel—many of them had no fuel—but almost everyone recognized, however reluctantly, that a good fire was necessary if the horses were to be kept well shod.

"I think that's about it," Heisel said. "We know that they're all leaving. Zeyler, here . . ." He pointed toward the natural-born liar. "Zeyler has managed to find out that they're taking this Gruyard that the major has his knickers tied in knots about with them."

"I'm good," Zeyler said. "I really am. I'm practically a fixture in the kitchen of the inn where MacDonald is staying. When we're done here, you can give me a letter of recommendation to the famous Francisco Nasi and I shall become a great spy. Not a famous one, since that would defeat the purpose, but great."

"If nothing else, you have the chutzpah," Heisel grumbled. "If you get to work for Nasi, you can ask him what the word means. I picked it up from an old Jew in Höchstädt, down south on the Danube, in 1632, when Gustavus's army was taking Donauwörth back from Duke Maximilian." He looked at Bauer. "What do you say?"

"I say we don't all go back to our own young dukes, yet. I say that I stay here, keeping an eye on Ferdinand of Bavaria, and you go with the Irishmen."

Bauer looked at Zeyler.

"I can stay with you. There will still be news here, about the archbishop. If you need a message run, my legs are younger."

"Honorable Tuna Tin?"

Hartke's veteran folded his scarred hands, leaning his chin on them, his elbows on his knees. "Once upon a time, my name was Julius Brandt. I have had several army names since I joined up, but that is what my parents had written down in the baptismal record. I come from Brunswick."