1636： The Saxon Uprising ARC - By Eric Flint Page 0,170
needed men close to the throne he could rely upon—but not so close that they could succeed to the throne themselves. Princes, as it were, forever barred from becoming kings in their own name.
One other thing was obvious. Gustav Adolf and Mike Stearns would no doubt clash until one or the other fell into his grave. But there were very few men in the world he now trusted as much. His daughter might very well owe her life to the man. She certainly owed him her inheritance. Without Stearns, there would be no United States of Europe. And when the crisis came, he had placed its survival above any ambitions of his own.
Few kings in history had had more faithful brothers. Precious few.
By their nature, of course, princes worthy of the name had goals and demands of their own. It was just silly to think otherwise. But so long as they could be trusted, acceptable solutions could always be found.
So. Once more, it was time to negotiate. The Golden King would struggle again with the Prince of Germany. With him, certainly, but…not exactly against him. It would almost be a like a family reunion. In a manner of speaking.
Chapter 55
The United States of Europe
All of the major newspapers in the country and many of the smaller ones came out with the story the next morning. It didn’t matter what day of the week they normally published. It didn’t matter whether they were morning papers or evening papers. Even if the edition was just a one-page special edition, nothing more than a glorified leaflet, they all published something.
The headline varied from city to city and province to province, but the gist was essentially the same:
the prince arrives in magdeburg
summoned to the palace by the emperor
Darmstadt, Province of the Main
After everyone on the city council finished reading the news report, the major cleared his throat.
“We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
The militia commander shook his head. “We’re fucked is what’s going to happen.”
One of the city council members made a face. “You can’t say that for sure, Gerlach.”
“You watch,” said the militia commander. “The emperor will be putty in the Prince’s hands. He’ll cave in across the board.”
Nobody said anything. In their heart of hearts, they were pretty sure he was right.
Augsburg, one of the USE’s seven independent imperial cities
The commander of Augsburg’s militia, Ruprecht Amsel, was in a good mood. He’d reached the point where he didn’t much care any longer how the citizenship question got resolved. If he’d had his own preferences, the requirements would be fairly stringent. A man would have to own at least a reasonable amount of property—and women wouldn’t have the vote at all.
But he’d come to appreciate something far more than he had before. He’d never heard of Dr. Johnson and never would, but his thought processes over the past few months had been a perfect illustration of Johnson’s quip that the prospect of being hanged concentrates the mind wonderfully.
Apprentices with uppity attitudes were annoying. So were indigents who thought they should have the same rights as solid men.
Maximilian of Bavaria, on the other hand, was not annoying. He was downright awful.
A tavern in Melsungen, in the province of Hesse-Kassel
“Here’s to the health of our landgravine!” shouted one of the revelers, holding up his stein of beer. “Long may she reign!”
The tavern was full, as it often was on a winter’s eve. Not a single stein failed to come up to join the toast.
Another reveler stood up, hoisting his stein. “And here’s to the emperor! May he drive a hard bargain!”
Not a single stein came up to join that toast. Confused, the reveler looked around. Then, realizing his error, hoisted his stein again.
“But not too hard!”
Now the steins came up to join him.
A tavern on the coast of the Pomeranian Bay
The fisherman squinted at the newssheet. “D’you think they’ll be able to reach an agreement?”
“Is the sea wet?” asked one of his companions.
“Is the sea salty?” asked the other.
Paris, capital of France
After he finished reading the copies of the intercepted radio messages that Servien had given him, Richelieu rose from his desk and went over to one of the window in his palace.
“What do you think will come out of it, Your Grace?” asked Servien.
“Nothing good for France,” was the cardinal’s reply.
Madrid, capital of Spain
There was no reaction to the upcoming meeting in the court of Spain.
They had no radio. They wouldn’t receive the news for days yet.