I wasted no time in seeking Wallenstein. He wasn’t in the city square as he so often had been in Dresden, but some soldiers led me to his formal headquarters in Magdeburg. The life of a rank and file soldier had turned me into a sheep, but I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and I was about to decloak myself.
Wallenstein’s men demanded that I disarm myself before entering the headquarters, and that made sense so I complied. ‘I’ll be wanting those back,’ I told the guards before entering the building.
Inside was a single room, much like a hall, almost royal despite its unassuming size. There was no throne, but there was a large wooden table that had most likely formerly served as a banquet table, but now played host to aged maps of eastern Germany. Wallenstein and the command staff, including Count Collalto, stood beside the table.
‘Excuse me, Lord Wallenstein,’ I said, interrupting their conversation.
‘We are busy, Karl,’ he replied, though his gaze lingered momentarily on my cuirass, perhaps recalling a previous life when he had donned the cuirassier’s armour plating and personally ridden into battle against the Protestants in Bohemia.
‘It is urgent, Lord,’ I said and he sighed.
‘Very well,’ Wallenstein replied, awaiting my explanation.
‘In private, if you please, Lord,’ I added. I was nervous in the company of so many great men, but I reminded myself that my own station was about to elevate. Wallenstein raised an eyebrow at my request but evidently agreed as he walked away from his fellows and gestured that I should follow. The boldness for which he had originally employed me took over, replacing the anxiety I’d felt in the company of the command staff.
‘What is it, Karl?’ Wallenstein asked impatiently.
‘I would like you to pardon my loan and elevate me to the rank of Leutnant,’ I said. Wallenstein hesitated, and then laughed.
‘Do you waste my time?’ he asked, and I shook my head.
‘I have done you, and God, a great service,’ I replied. ‘The Emperor has sent word that you should be removed from command, and replaced by Count Collalto.’
‘The Emperor personally accepted my offer to build this army,’ Wallenstein said in disbelief. I pulled the torn letter out of my pocket and handed it to him. It had the Imperial seal and was signed by the Emperor himself.
‘This is the order,’ I said. ‘I give it to you now in exchange for making me an officer and pardoning my debt to you.’
Wallenstein read the letter, scanning it bodily as if his eyes had the power to damage its authenticity. ‘The messenger might have had knowledge of the contents of this letter.’
‘He did,’ I said. ‘He’s dead.’
‘Dead?’
‘Killed by ruffians in an alley, sadly. Thankfully I was able to salvage the letter.’
‘Karl…’ Wallenstein whispered. ‘What have you done?’
‘I have done nothing that I cannot live with,’ I said, though I was not sure that I spoke the truth. I had rationalised my past crimes as having occurred under the tutelage of Godke, but this one I’d committed all on my own. True, the messenger’s death was backed by the weight of the greater good, and I had tried to get the message from him peacefully, but I was not happy with what I’d done. Just content in the knowledge that it had probably been the right choice. Probably.
‘They will just send another messenger when they learn that the previous one failed to deliver his message. The next messenger will have an escort.’
‘There will be no next messenger,’ I said. ‘Not if you defeat Mansfeld before then. A success in battle will force the Emperor to retain you.’
‘Battle could be weeks away,’ Wallenstein said, though even as he said it he stroked his unnecessarily lengthy beard as if deep in thought. ‘Mansfeld will have to cross the Elbe…’
‘Yes, Lord,’ I said. ‘If we march today we can reach Mansfeld before Vienna learns that their message was intercepted.’
He looked at me. ‘I will not endanger the lives of my soldiers by rushing into a risky battle solely to preserve my own status.’ He paused. ‘You have disappointed me, Karl Bauer. I knew there was a risk in accepting a witch hunter into my army, but you were in trouble and I threw you a lifeline because you had mastered skills that no soldier could ever hope to learn. Now you have killed an innocent messenger in the employ of the Emperor. I should discharge you from my service. I should drag you before a court of law,’ he said, placing emphasis on the second “should.” He was clearly upset and I was hurt by his disapproval, but it was not entirely unexpected. As I had known when I’d done it, killing the messenger might have practical benefits, but it would be an arduous responsibility to live with. I knew he wouldn’t discharge me or prosecute me as my leverage was too great, but it was possible that he would decline my suggestion.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Eventually his contemplation proved fruitful, and his face filled with a giddiness that belied his age and his prior displeasure. ‘The English have landed on the continent and are intent upon joining forces with Mansfeld’s Danish and German armies. They are no longer content simply to assist the Dutch in enriching my enemies, they now send soldiers to join the battle. My hand is forced regardless of this letter. We must attack the Protestants before they cross the Elbe.’
‘Or as they cross it,’ I suggested. A choke point such as a bridge was always a good place to fight, and even though I was no expert in strategy I knew this basic reality.
‘They will be nearing the crossing in the coming days,’ Wallenstein said. ‘We should force a battle at Dessau.’
‘Yes, Lord,’ I said. I knew not the broader disposition of forces or terrain in the region, and was just agreeing with him. ‘The matter of my promotion…’
He looked annoyed, as if he had been on the verge of epiphany and I’d interrupted him with some mundane comment. ‘You have not the breeding of an officer, Karl. I will raise you to Wachtmeister, no further.’
I nodded. I harboured no desire for the responsibility of a Leutnant, and had been bartering as one does for a horse or suit of armour. Wachtmeister, or sergeant, was a suitable rank for a low born man such as myself. ‘And my loan, Lord?’
‘I will forgive no more than two fifths of it,’ he said after some consideration. ‘I have an army to finance and I don’t want you leaving before the battle is won.’
‘How about three quarters, Lord?’ I suggested, but Wallenstein was not in the mood for bartering.
‘Two gulden, Karl. I reduce your debt to three gulden. And tell no one about this letter or Count Collalto may revoke the benefits I have granted you,’ he said.
‘Yes, Lord,’ I said, bowing my head.
‘Finally, Karl Bauer,’ he said. ‘Do not do this again, or anything like it. You are my man now, and I’m giving you a direct order to obey the laws of the land and those of God. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes Lord,’ I said again.
Thanks to my frugal spending habits in my brief time in the cuirassiers, my decision to not pay for a full set of armour, and the sale of my leather jerkin and Elisabeth’s horse, I had over two gulden in my possession. I was less than one gulden short of making good my debt, and as a Wachtmeister, a sergeant, my wage would be increased. I just had to stay alive to enjoy it.
I went to leave as it seemed that our conversation was done, but Wallenstein put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. ‘I have a mission for my newest Wachtmeister.’
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That afternoon I set out on horseback for Dessau. I took with me a dozen men from my own company, men I’d come to know in the previous months. It was now mid-April 1626 and the chill of winter had long since passed, allowing for the relatively rapid movement of large armies across the east German countryside.
Johann rode beside me. I’d made him second in command of our warband, and I trusted that he would serve me well. When I’d returned from my meeting with Wallenstein wearing the insignia of a Wachtmeister he’d greeted me with surprise, but I’d assured him the promotion was genuine.
‘I think Wallenstein likes me,’ I said. I could hardly tell him the real reason for my sudden rise in rank.
‘I’d say so,’ he agreed, pulling me into his gargantuan embrace.
He noticed that I was downcast, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t dumb, he knew that something had to have happened to spur my otherwise unprovoked promotion, something that was weighing on my mind, but he simply said, ‘I’ll shout you a flagon sometime,’ and I knew that he’d support me no matter what I’d done. It felt good to have someone at my back who I knew would not falter and I hoped that one day I could return the favour.
Before we left Magdeburg I saw Elisabeth one more time. We merely spoke, as was all we had done since Christmas, and I told her that if I died she should flee.
‘You won’t die,’ she said, and I smiled and kissed her on the cheek. She reciprocated in kind, and then I gathered my warband and left Magdeburg.
We needed to cross the Elbe, the great river that divides Germany in two across the heart as a Turkish scimitar. The nearest bridge was in Dessau, which held a lot of memories for me. Despite my constant anxiety, I had not seen Godke since we had parted ways in Dessau over six months previously, except for our brief confrontation in Leipzig. I tried not to let myself feel safe, and I tried to keep the memories of Dessau from my mind as we travelled through it. We wore our cuirassier’s armour, though I was not wearing my zischagge so that I could be better attuned to my senses.
The people of Dessau had received Danish scouts, which only indicated what we already knew: that the Protestant army was close. My job was to find out how close. Wallenstein wanted to prevent them from crossing the Elbe and force a confrontation, victory at which would prevent Mansfeld from linking up with the English and stabilise Wallenstein’s position as the leader of the Catholic army.
We spent the night in Dessau and I prayed for forgiveness for the murder of the army messenger. God sent me no obvious response, and at dawn I roused the men and got them back on their horses. We ate as we crossed the bridge over the Elbe north of Dessau and found ourselves passing through Rosslau and leaving the Principality of Anhalt-Dessau. I led us northwest and we were soon at Zerbst, a small town most of the way from Schwerin to Rosslau. I did not expect to see Protestant soldiers there as their army was projected to be several days march from Zerbst, so I rode up to the unwalled city with no attempt at subterfuge.
The first indication that something was wrong was when I saw no one in the fields outside the town. It was spring, and the villagers should have been sowing the seeds of a future harvest. However I took no notice of it and the thirteen of us trotted into Zerbst with the confidence of a troupe of blind men.
The second indication of my mistake was more obvious than the first. Gunshots erupted around us as we entered the city, and I could see tufts of gunpowder smoke appearing from in front of us and to both of our sides.
The city was already taken.