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Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

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◈ The Medieval Heretic King is Too Good at Developing ◈

Chapter 31: The Cumans (2)

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Cumans.

The instant the messenger spoke that word, the air grew heavy as lead.

Murmur, murmur.

The lively noise of the construction site vanished as if it had never existed. The rumble of cartwheels, the pounding of hammers, and the laborers' shouts all stopped at once.

A red brick slipped from the hands of a worker carrying materials and sank into the mud. Yet no one thought to pick it up.

Elderly people screamed, collapsed to the ground, and made the sign of the cross. The Jewish financial officials and Sternberg's native farmers alike had gone pale.

"The Cumans... those devils have come again?"

"Oh, God. Dear God..."

Even Sir Kuno, a veteran knight who had seen every hardship war could offer, had trembling lips. His knuckles were white as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

'The Cumans.'

I knew very well who they were.

Descendants of the Kipchaks, Turkic nomads who had once ruled the steppes north of the Black Sea.

Driven farther and farther west beneath the hooves of the Mongol Empire, they had been taken in by the Kingdom of Hungary.

And Hungary's current king was Sigismund.

They were Sigismund's hunting dogs.

No, hunting dogs was too noble a term.

They were mad dogs.

The year 1403.

The year Sigismund abducted his older half-brother, Wenceslaus IV, then King of Bohemia, and invaded Bohemia to seize the throne.

The men Sigismund had put at the forefront then were those very Cuman mercenaries.

Their strange Eastern armor. Their grotesque shaved hairstyles, with only the crown left untouched. Above all, the iron masks shaped like human faces that were their symbol.

To the people of Bohemia, the Cumans were not human.

Beasts who knew neither chivalry, honor, nor mercy. A band of heathens who burned churches even at the sight of a cross, raped nuns, and cut children's throats as though they were toys.

The sight of them riding in wearing iron masks, cutting people down with long, scimitar-like sabers, then laughing as they burned villages had left an indelible trauma on the Bohemians.

The memory of Skalitz, a city famed for its silver mines, being reduced to ashes beneath their horses' hooves was still vivid in their minds.

"Where are they now?"

At my question, the messenger drew rough breaths and pointed south with a shaking hand.

"They crossed the Moravian border and have been burning every nearby village they come across. The border garrison tried to intercept them, but..."

I didn't need to hear the rest.

Poorly equipped levies from local lords, not even heavily armed knights, stood no chance against nomad cavalry who had eaten and slept on horseback their entire lives.

They had probably been wiped out, turned into pincushions beneath a rain of arrows. Or perhaps they had opened the way and offered food, begging the Cumans to spare their domains.

"The garrison won't hold for long. No, they may have already broken through. Their mobility is simply too great..."

"Where are they headed? What is their destination?"

"Th-that is unclear."

The messenger bit his lip.

"They are scattered widely, looting as they go, so it is difficult to determine their exact route. But their general direction is north."

North.

Toward Sternberg.

Still, Sternberg was not the only place north of Moravia. There was Prague, the kingdom's capital, and Kuttenberg, Bohemia's purse, renowned for its silver mines.

Sir Kuno groaned beside me.

"It may be Kuttenberg. They could gain an enormous amount of silver by looting it."

"Or they may be targeting Prague."

Konrad added in a pale voice.

"They may intend to strike the capital, damage Your Majesty's prestige, and spread terror."

My vassals offered differing opinions. Considering the Cumans' reputation and greed, every guess was plausible.

But with my arms folded, I shook my head.

'No.'

I pictured a map of Bohemia in my mind.

The Cumans were nomads. Their strength lay in wind-like mobility and surprise attacks, not in patiently climbing castle walls during a siege.

Kuttenberg? Prague? Both were fortified cities already surrounded by high, solid walls.

No matter how capable the Cumans were, an advance unit that had arrived on horseback without a single siege engine could not break through their sturdy gates.

They were not fools. They would want to avoid a siege that cost blood and brought no reward.

'Raiders target easy prey.'

A place with no walls, or weak ones.

A place poorly defended but still worth looting.

And above all...

'The place Sigismund hates most.'

My gaze slowly swept over Sternberg beneath my feet.

A massive construction site teeming with tens of thousands of laborers.

Walls still unfinished, with gaps where construction had yet to continue.

Costly materials, food, and enormous quantities of silver coins scattered everywhere.

More than anything, it was the stronghold of Ulrich, the Heretic King, a thorn in the Emperor's eye for daring to claim the throne of Bohemia.

Their target was neither Kuttenberg's silver nor Prague's prestige.

"Sternberg. They're targeting this place."

Shock spread across my vassals' faces.

"U-us? But this isn't a strategic stronghold. It's only a rural domain..."

"Is that really so?"

I gave a small laugh and pointed at the construction site.

"Look over there. Bohemia's craftsmen and laborers have all gathered here. The enormous funds I poured in are piled up here. And..."

I tapped my chest with a finger.

"The Heretic King whom Sigismund most wants dead is right here, isn't he?"

Did Sigismund know I was here? Did he know tens of thousands of workers were building a city here?

Perhaps he did. Perhaps he didn't. It was a minor matter.

Sternberg was my domain. If they captured the Heretic King, all the better. Even if I wasn't here, burning this place would still deal me a heavy loss.

Besides, if his hunting dogs trampled my castle, which even the Hussites had failed to defeat, it would make excellent propaganda.

'Sigismund, you cunning old bastard.'

His intentions in sending the Cumans first rather than his regular knights were painfully obvious.

'So he intends to show Bohemia the hell of twenty years ago again?'

The Emperor had not sent an army.

He had sent terror.

By putting the cruelest, most uncontrollable heathen mercenaries at the front, he intended to spread fear throughout all of Bohemia.

It was psychological warfare, meant to break the people's will before the fighting even began and frighten the lords into surrender.

And it was working perfectly.

The laborers at the construction site were already murmuring in panic.

"Oh, Lord... the Cumans!"

"We have to run! They'll kill us all if they come!"

"If they catch us, they'll skin us alive!"

Fear spread faster than any plague. To the people of Bohemia, their fear of the Cumans was like the Black Death.

Konrad grabbed the hem of my clothes and pleaded.

"Y-Your Majesty! Then you must flee at once! There are no proper walls here, and we lack troops! You must go to Prague immediately!"

Sir Kuno added with a grim expression.

"My lord, the chamberlain is right. We will risk our lives to buy time. You must go to the safety of Prague..."

"Flee?"

I looked between the two of them.

Their eyes held sincere loyalty, along with fear they could not hide.

To those who remembered the nightmare of 1403, facing the Cumans in open battle must have seemed no different from suicide.

But.

"Sir Kuno. Pull yourself together."

"M-my lord?"

"If I run, what happens to them?"

I pointed below the walls, at the tens of thousands of people looking up at me with anxious eyes.

The citizens of Prague who had followed me here in trust.

The heads of households who had worked hard, clinging to the hope of a single silver coin.

The farmers and Jews of my domain.

The moment I fled, they would become the Cumans' prey. Sigismund would slaughter every living thing here as an example, leaving no survivors.

If thousands of Cuman horsemen stormed in, setting fires and beginning their massacre, this place would become a living hell in an instant.

'I didn't go through all that trouble to produce steel for this.'

I looked at the steelworks belching smoke beyond the walls, then at the unfinished brick houses.

Those were my assets.

And the people working there were my subjects, as well as my factory laborers.

Without my permission, no one would lay a hand on a single person or a single brick.

Not even the Emperor's hunting dogs.

"They aren't devils. They're mercenaries who sold themselves for money. They're human. Stab them with a sword, and they bleed. Cut off their heads, and they die."

The Cumans were nomads. Fast, cruel, and lightly armored.

That meant they were little more than paper before firepower.

If they had come to ravage Bohemia with memories from twenty years ago, then I would show them a future hundreds of years ahead.

"We will not run. Prepare for battle."

Sir Kuno hesitated for a moment, then looked up at me with resolute eyes.

"...If that is my lord's will, I will obey your command."

He tightened the strap beneath his helmet and answered solemnly.

"I will not allow those beasts to set foot in your territory. So long as my head remains on my shoulders, not one heathen will cross the walls."

Then János Hunyadi, who had been standing guard beside me, stepped forward.

"My lord."

Instead of his usual insolent expression, he rubbed his chin with a serious look.

"You're going to face them like this? They aren't ordinary bandits. Those men were raised on horseback."

"And?"

"Shouldn't we request reinforcements? Send messengers to the nearby lords. They crossed the border, so if the King issues a summons, won't the nobles bring their private forces and come? They're slippery bastards whose thoughts are impossible to read, but they still stand beneath the same Hussite banner, don't they?"

János's suggestion was perfectly sensible.

In a feudal society, neighboring lords were obligated by custom to help when a domain came under attack. Besides, I was their king in name.

But I snorted.

"Wake up, János. They will never come."

"Why not? The nobles oppose Sigismund too, don't they?"

"Opposing him doesn't mean they'll risk their lives for us."

I faced reality coldly.

"By now, they'll be locking their gates and trembling in fear. The moment they heard the Cumans were coming, they'll have been too busy defending their own domains to move. They'll just watch to see whether I stop them or get torn apart."

I was not yet an absolute monarch the nobles would give their lives for.

And fear was stronger than loyalty.

It was better not to expect them to willingly risk their lives to protect me.

"Besides, the Cumans are too fast. By the time we send messengers, and they slowly gather their troops and set out, our domain will already be ashes."

Bohemia's internal affairs were not even settled yet. Many Catholic lords still remained.

Great lords like those of Budějovice and Rosenberg, who believed in Catholicism and opposed the Hussites, would sooner side with the Emperor than send troops to the Heretic King.

The only one I could rely on was myself.

"How many troops do we have?"

Clicking his tongue, János took out a notebook.

"One thousand militia brought from Prague, plus a small number of levies from the domain."

One thousand against three thousand.

It was not simply a numerical disadvantage. It was infantry against cavalry.

If we fought nomad cavalry, said to possess Europe's greatest mobility, on the open plains, our chances of victory would be close to zero.

That did not mean I could let the courtyard before Sternberg Castle become a sea of blood. I had no intention of using my precious industrial complex as a battlefield.

'I choose my own battlefield.'

I took a map of southern Bohemia from my coat and spread it across a stone.

The parchment showed the course of the Sázava River, the forests, and the terrain around Sternberg in detail.

Slowly, I traced my finger across the map.

"Here."

My finger tapped a single point.

Sir Kuno and János leaned over the map at the same time.

"This is..."

"We will lure them here."

It was the shortest route from the border to Sternberg.

If they had caught the scent of our domain, they would have to pass through this place.

"And János."

"Yes, my lord."

"Prepare the fastest horse. Then ride to Tabor Fortress and send a letter to Commander-in-Chief Žižka."

"Understood. What shall I write?"

A chilling smile spread across my lips.

"Panzer (Panzerkampfwagen), was it? Tell him it's time to show the world what that thing can do."

Footnotes:

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