"Secondly, because I am
"Vasa!" he repeated. The name was both a reminder and a challenge. A reminder to himself, a challenge to Gustav stared at his underlings. The gaze was not a glare. Not quite-there was too much iciness in the thing. A glacier does not glare; it simply
"Do not forget," he said softly.
Under that gaze, his subordinates did not flinch. But they did seem to shrink a little. The Vasas had established their rule over Sweden by many methods. Among those, of course, had been political and military skill. But there had also been-proven time and again-their instant readiness to break the aristocracy to their will.
Gustav Adolf had been named after his grandfather, the great Gustav Vasa who founded the dynasty and created the modern nation called Sweden. His grandfather's contempt for nobility was a matter of historical record-as was the result of that contempt. The Swedish aristocracy had been broken, bridled, disciplined. Accepted back into royal favor only after they demonstrated their willingness to work alongside the new dispensation. In Gustav Vasa's realm, the four estates had all been listened to-the peasants and the citizens of the towns as much as the nobility and the clergy. If anything, Gustav Vasa had favored the rising middle class-and been rewarded, in return, by a state treasury flush with silver, a powerful fleet and army, and Europe's finest, if not largest, munitions industry.
Vasa…
"It is settled," stated the king. "Thuringia will be left in peace, to manage its own affairs. If Wilhelm and-ha!-Bernard can make an accommodation, excellent. But it is their business, not ours. I will
"We already have soldiers on the scene," pointed out Torstensson mildly.
Gustav cocked his eye. "Mackay?" He shrugged. "A few hundred cavalrymen."
Spens began to speak. The king shot him a quick glance, and the Scottish general closed his mouth.
The king's eye moved on to Oxenstierna. Having made his point, Gustav would now sweeten the thing. "I will speak to Wilhelm personally, Axel," he said. "I will give him my assurances that, regardless of what happens in Thuringia, the family of Saxe-Weimar will not be abandoned by me." He chuckled harshly. "Who knows? Wilhelm, unlike his younger brother, is sagacious enough to realize that being the duke of a petty principality is not, all things said and done, the highest goal to which a man might aspire in this new world."
He clapped his hands, announcing a change in subject. The clap turned into another brisk rubbing of the palms. To ward off the cold, of course. But the motion also conveyed a great deal of satisfaction. So does a craftsman gesture, contemplating a new masterwork.
"And now, gentlemen-Tilly! The latest report indicates that the old man is stirring again. He's left Nцrdlingen and is moving against Horn at Bamberg. Wallenstein, meanwhile, is also back in business."
Torstensson laughed. "Big business! Has ever a mercenary general in history gotten such a contract? Who is emperor and who is lackey now, I wonder?"
His laugh was echoed by the other generals. News had recently arrived of Wallenstein's terms for accepting Emperor Ferdinand's plea for help. After Breitenfeld, the Habsburgs had been desperate, and Wallenstein had driven a devil's bargain. The Bohemian general had the emperor's formal agreement that he was in exclusive command of all military power in imperial lands. Wallenstein had also been granted civil power over all imperial territory in the possession of Ferdinand's enemies-including the right to confiscate lands and do with them as he wished. That meant booty on a gigantic scale, for all his officers. Mercenaries and adventurers could become landed noblemen overnight, in the event of victory-and why not? Hadn't Wallenstein himself set the example, in the early years of the war?
Gustav continued. "All accounts have Wallenstein assembling a huge new army. You can imagine what wolves are gathering around his banner!"
General Tott grunted. "They'll make Tilly's men look like gentle lambs."