Chapter 779 A change of commanders on the spot
Late at night, when the merchants and nobles of the city of Tira were exchanging cups and glasses with Count Arter, the frontier count from the Kingdom of Burgundy, in the lord's hall, the atmosphere in the Milan palace, the study room belonging to the Duke of Lombardy, was extremely tense.
Francesco, the military deputy who fled back to the Milan palace from the west, stood motionless not far from Duke Witote, carefully observing every move of the ruler of the principality.
On the table, the flame at the top of the candle trembled slightly as Duke Witott gasped, and the melting hot wax kept sliding down the edge of the candle like teardrops, forming lines like ridges.
Duke Witott's broad, rough palms were pressed tightly against the piece of urgent military information coming from the southern border - the southern city of Tira was attacked by hundreds of cavalry from unknown origins and fell three days ago. The life and death of the lord, Count Dylan Hawke, was unknown; The remaining southern territories were successively attacked by thousands of troops from the Burgundy Kingdom and the Provence frontier army this afternoon. At this time, the words in these secret letters were like sharp silver needles, piercing the violently beating heart of Duke Witote.
Now that the western border is gone, the northern border and the large fertile territory of the Po River plain have become the territory of the Burangdians. Even the desolate and barren mountainous areas on the northeastern border have been taken over by the barbarians of the Mountain Confederation. With the further fall of the south, this lion of the southern continent who has been powerful for many years now only controls Milan and a few surrounding cities.
He had never expected such a result, but he could not prevent it, let alone accept it.
As the parchment covered with words shrank little by little in Duke Witott's hand, there was a sound of fingernails scraping against the tabletop, sharp and low, intermittent.
The sudden burst of cracking sound made the important officials of the Milan palace standing in the study have their hearts in their throats, fearing that the Duke, who had been moody recently, would vent his grievances on themselves.
Since the Prime Minister of the Lombard Palace went to Solenberg to seek peace and was detained, the Milan Palace no longer had a powerful minister who took the lead. Seeing that there are less than three days left before the final redemption deadline, the palace imperial meeting still failed to reach an agreement on this issue and it remains unresolved.
The two sides had a heated debate over the huge ransom.
The faction with the Grand Bachelor and the Lord Privy Seal as the core urged the palace to raise a ransom as soon as possible in exchange for the palace prime minister who had been imprisoned in Solonborg so that he could return to Milan to preside over government affairs.
The opposition was led by the Palace Finance Minister. They refused to pay a large ransom from the treasury to go to Soronborg to redeem people, citing the huge military expenditure of the palace. In their view, the most important thing at the moment is to recruit a large number of troops to defend Milan from the invasion of external barbarians. Compared with the fate of the principality, a palace prime minister is really not enough to make the palace spend huge amounts of money.
The Duke of Lombardy was in a dilemma on this matter and was unable to make up his mind. Now that the war is about to begin, the Prime Minister of the Palace is detained in the enemy camp, which undoubtedly cuts off one of his strong arms. But now the treasury is tightening and the finances are unable to make ends meet. If a large amount of money is spent to redeem the palace prime minister, it is tantamount to bleeding from oneself and is likely to accelerate the demise of the principality.
Now, news of the fall of the Southern Territory came, which finally became the last straw for Duke Witote.
Duke Witott firmly grasped the secret letter that had been torn into pieces, and his clenched fists made a clattering sound. His clenched teeth made his head tremble continuously, and his red cheeks were enough to show his anger at this time.
I saw him closing his eyes slightly, taking a few deep breaths, and after a moment, he slowly released the fragment tightly held in his hand and slid it onto the table.
After a while, the ruler of the principality, who had been tortured in recent days, finally said, "Francesco, where are those bastards now?"
Duke Witote Ping The quiet tone made the palace military deputy who stood quietly aside finally breathed a sigh of relief, so he hurriedly replied: "Reporting to Your Majesty the Duke, according to reports from the outpost, the coalition forces of Burgundy and Provence have not yet made any movement towards Milan."
After speaking, Francesco raised his head and glanced at the calm Duke Witote, and continued: "Don't worry, Duke, I have sent dozens of spies to various southern territories to inquire about information. Their every move is now under our control. In addition, once our people seize the opportunity, they can get rid of the trouble that is on the Duke's mind."
Hearing this, Duke Witote suddenly opened his eyes. Francesco's words just now seemed to ignite his hope again.
"If Gwen Tyrell had planned everything as carefully as you did, we would not have suffered such a complete defeat in the Western Region!"
When the name was mentioned, a murderous look flashed in Duke Witote's eyes.
As the military minister of the Principality of Lombardy, the Western Route Army headed by Gwen Tyrell made many mistakes in decision-making, which forced thousands of Provence army commanders to march straight in. The Lombard Palace was forced to fight on two fronts, and was forced into a desperate situation step by step.
To this day, the palace military minister who made Duke Witote gnash his teeth with hatred is still missing. As punishment for his failure in the battle and his absence from duty, the Duke of Lombardy ordered the confiscation of all the territories and properties of the Tilea family, and sent all the male members of the family to the front line for military service, while the female family members served as palace servants. As for Gwen Tyrell himself, the Milan court issued a wanted order and posted a notice offering a reward of fifty coins for anyone who could provide clues about the defector.
At present, the Prime Minister of the Lombardy Palace is detained in Solonborg, and the Palace Military Minister is missing. Looking at the entire Lombard Palace, Francesco, the Palace Military Deputy, is now the sole leader.
Hence, the palace military deputy who was trembling with fear just a moment ago, as if facing an abyss, decisively seized the opportunity and stood up when the Duke of Lombardy was in a dilemma.
"Please rest assured, Your Majesty, Duke, Francesco will fight to the death and will advance and retreat together with Milan!"
In the depressing atmosphere in the study, these words gave the Duke of Lombardy, who had no retreat, a glimmer of hope.
So, he looked up at Francesco and said loudly: "From now on, I appoint you as the palace military minister, fully responsible for the command of the frontline army. I have only one request." Duke Witote paused for a moment, his eyes full of unwillingness.
"Save Milan!"
Francesco fell to his knees with a plop, beat his chest with his right hand, and shouted: "I will serve you to the death, Your Majesty the Duke!"
"I will serve you to the death, Your Majesty the Duke!" Seeing this, several other important court officials bowed and beat their chests to show their determination.
Two days later, Francesco, as the Minister of Military Affairs of the Palace, mobilized 500 elite soldiers and 1,000 miscellaneous servants to go southwest, using military fortresses along the way to build multiple lines of defense to slow down the enemy's attack.
On the same day, the Grand Bachelor of the Court went to Rome with a letter written by the Duke of Lombardy to ask for help, and the Archbishop of Milan went with him. At this critical moment, the Duke of Lombardy had no choice but to make this move. In order to preserve the family legacy passed down from generation to generation, Duke Witote planned to return to Rome to seek asylum.
On the second day, the Palace Finance Minister carried the territorial map of the Lombardy Principality as an envoy to the Swabia Principality. At this critical juncture, the Duke of Lombardy planned to ask the Duke of Swabia for assistance in the form of land cession, just to ask the other party to send troops to attack the border of the Burgundy Kingdom, forcing the Burgundy southern expedition army to return for reinforcements, and reducing the pressure on the front line.
Late late at night, outside a small hotel in Milan near the Cathedral Square in the west of the city, a man who looked like a hawker looked back at the street with few pedestrians, gently opened the door of the hotel, and walked in quietly.
At this time, the exhausted hotel clerk lay on the table and fell asleep, completely unaware of the slight movement of the man who pushed the door in.
The man gently closed the wooden door of the hotel and walked upstairs with brisk steps.
After a while, there was a slight knock on the door from the innermost guest room on the second floor.
"Who!"
A voice suddenly came from the dark guest room.
With a sound of ouch, the wooden door of the guest room opened from the inside.
"Sir Dawson! Come in quickly~" The clerk who opened the door saw the hawker and hurriedly called the man in. After peeking out to look around, he immediately closed the door.
After a while, the room was illuminated by candlelight.
"The clerk who just opened the door took a bag of groceries from Dawson's hand and put it on the ground aside. He immediately stepped forward and asked. "Master Dawson, what's going on at the South City Gate now?"
Dawson reached into the wooden basin on the side, picked up the water in it, and scrubbed his face. He picked up the linen cloth on the shelf and wiped away the water droplets, took the water glass handed to him by the waiter, and drank it down in two gulps.
Dawson, whose throat was so dry a moment ago, finally regained his breath and said: "Forget it, the craftsmen in the city are still working there day and night to reinforce the city wall. But the strange thing is that the number of garrison there has more than doubled tonight."
While several people were surprised, another guy sitting by the window also told the information he had collected. "The gates in the east, west and north of the city are all the same. Is it possible that the old guy Witote is going to make some big move?"
At this critical moment, Dawson, as the deputy captain of the task force, could not figure out the current intention of the Milan palace. But one thing is certain, this should be related to the fall of the southern Lombardy territories.
Because just two days ago, the news that the city of Tiara was captured spread like a bomb exploding throughout the city of Milan.
From that day on, martial law and curfew began in the city of Milan. Anyone who disobeys the order will be punished with treason and may be executed on the spot.
Since sneaking into Milan, Dawson has been paying close attention to every move in the palace. At the slightest sign of trouble, he would send what happened here to the legion's location in the form of a carrier pigeon.
But now with the martial law in the city, the activities of the task force are subject to many restrictions.
After thinking for a while, Dawson called everyone together and said softly: "In this way, we will go separately early tomorrow morning -."