A back alley in a corner of Šternberk Castle.
A place where even the shouting and the roar that shook the walls grew faint, as if it were all a lie.
Taking advantage of that darkness, three shadows were moving in perfect coordination.
At the noise of battle bursting out beyond, their steps were full of impatience.
"H-hey! Do you hear that? Surely the greenhorn lord isn't actually winning?"
When one of the group asked in an uneasy voice, the man who appeared to be the leader snapped at him.
"Shut up! That is all the more reason to hurry! Unless we open the gate from the inside, the army of our great Hussite comrades cannot get in!"
"But... if we get caught by the soldiers doing it...!"
"For the cause, life is nothing to begrudge! Rather than serve that filthy Catholic lord, martyrdom in the name of the Lord is many times more glorious!"
That was when it happened. Someone stepped out of the darkness and blocked their path.
"Hold it right there."
"Wh-who are you!"
The one who walked out of the darkness was a black-haired handsome youth who seemed to stand on the border between boy and young man.
"I thought the way your eyes had been darting around was suspicious, and sure enough you did not disappoint."
The boy's languid yet blade-like voice rang through the alley.
"Wh-what did you say? You, you have been watching us from the start? How?"
"A spy knows a spy, that is how."
"What? What do you mean by...!"
Just then a companion beside him recognized the boy's face and shouted.
"Brother! That one, he is the one who was guiding the refugees to the church earlier!"
"Is that so? All the better! That means he is a right-hand man of that heathen lord!"
The leader drew a dagger from his coat and lunged ferociously.
"Die! You filthy Catholic dog!"
In that moment, the boy's hand went to the sword at his waist.
SHNK—
Along with a sharp sound ringing from the scabbard, a single flash of light split the narrow alley.
The three men who had been lunging stopped as if nailed to the spot. Then, along the thin red lines drawn across their throats and chests, drops of blood slowly began to bead.
"Gk, ghk...!"
Without so much as realizing what had happened, three bodies fell at the same time, spouting blood like fountains.
The boy glanced indifferently at the corpses sprawled across the alley floor, then raised his head and looked up at the top of the wall.
Just then an enormous cheer, loud enough to ring through the whole castle, was bursting out from the wall above.
"Hurraaaah!!"
"The enemy is falling back! We won!"
"Long live my lord! Long live Šternberk!"
Hearing it, a faint smile hung at the corner of the boy's mouth. János.
"You really won? And here I had my doubts...."
Hunyadi János.
The man who in later days would be called the shield of Europe and the White Knight against the Ottoman Empire.
The son of a loyal retainer serving Sigismund, King of Hungary, and a boy who would himself become a legend.
He looked at his liege atop the wall with awe in his eyes.
"My liege really is an extraordinary person. Extraordinary enough that I want to keep watching from his side."
János's figure melted away into the darkness.
Before long, all that remained in the dark back alley were three corpses not yet grown cold.
***
"The enemy is falling back!"
"The Hussite bastards... those devils are running away!"
Beginning with one soldier's shout, cheers loud enough to tear their throats burst out along the wall.
Soldiers who until a short while ago had been pale with the terror of death.
As though none of that had ever happened, they threw their arms around one another, flung off their helmets, and roared beneath the banner of Šternberk.
The soldiers' cheers were full of relief and exhilaration.
It was the same for me.
"We won..."
Below the wall, the foul smell given off by burning corpses stabbed at my nose.
"..."
I had killed people with scientific knowledge. Hundreds of them, at that.
My stomach churned. But there were the shouts bursting out on every side. On the soldiers' faces there was no longer any fear of death. They had hope.
Amid that nauseating reality, a strange sense of fulfillment came together with a kind of responsibility that pressed down on my heart.
'...So this is the weight of the office of lord.'
Just then a soldier drunk on victory could not master his excitement and shouted.
"My lord! Now is our chance! We must strike the fleeing Hussite bastards from behind!"
"He is right! Let us wipe out those heretics once and for all!"
Shouts of agreement burst out here and there. But I was not swept up in that heat.
"No, we will not pursue."
At my words the soldiers reined in their cheering and faltered for a moment, but my resolve was already firm.
'This is not winning. We only survived.'
It was too early to rejoice. Of the many ridgelines still to be crossed, we had barely made it over one.
I looked around. The wounded sprawled here and there, the wall left in tatters by the fighting. That was the reality of this castle.
"Oh? Is it over already?"
Just then János, who had appeared at some point, was climbing up onto the wall with a somewhat sheepish expression. There was not a speck of dust on his clothes.
"It has only begun. In any case, I thought you had taken fright and fled. Where have you been and what have you been doing to turn up only now?"
"Come now, where would I go leaving my liege's side? I only saw some rubbish rolling about inside the castle and went to clear it away somewhere out of sight."
János shrugged with his usual patter, then jerked his chin toward the fleeing Hussites and asked.
"But do you really not intend to pursue? It seems rather a waste to let them go like that."
I shook my head.
"They were defeated but not annihilated. Several hundred of their troops are still intact. If they collect themselves and instead lure us in and encircle us as we pursue, what will you do then?"
János nodded with a look of understanding.
"Hmm... that is true as well."
"Their commander got back alive, so they will certainly attack again before long. Now is not the time to be drunk on victory; cleaning up after the battle comes first."
I gave my orders to the soldiers firmly.
"Treat the wounded quickly, and recover the fallen with honor!"
"Y-yes, understood!"
At my order the soldiers began to move in perfect coordination.
***
Even after the battle ended, the castle went on turning at a breathless pace.
Under the direction of Sir Kuno and Konrad, the cleanup proceeded, and the state of our losses was reported.
The result was nothing short of a miracle. Against an enemy numbering a thousand, our own losses came to seven wounded and only one dead.
The sole man killed was one of the volunteers who had newly enlisted this time. He unluckily lost his life to an arrow that flew in amid the confusion.
The soldier's sacrifice was a grief, but by anyone's reckoning it was an overwhelming victory, and everyone in the castle could not hide their joy.
But the joy went exactly that far.
Toward evening, on the faces of the retainers gathered in my study, there hung a shadow instead of a victor's ease.
Konrad continued his report with a hardened expression.
"Our arrows are exhausted. Fewer than a hundred remain. I cannot guarantee we will hold through the next battle."
"And the firebombs?"
"We used more than half. About thirty jars remain."
I pressed hard at my throbbing temple.
"So the next attack will be difficult to hold off the way we did this one...."
Unless the enemy were fools, they would certainly come to the next attack with countermeasures against the firebombs prepared.
Siege engines draped in wet hide, or they might build catapults of their own and shell us from a distance.
Sir Kuno added in a worried voice.
"My lord, that is not all. The soldiers' exhaustion has reached its limit. Until a moment ago they were drunk on victory, but now they are all worn out and on the verge of collapse."
He was right. When I looked down below the wall, the soldiers were scattered about here and there, standing watch by sheer force of will.
Days of hard labor had been followed by fierce fighting with no chance to rest. The soldiers' willpower and stamina had bottomed out long ago.
But with no way of knowing when the Hussites would attack again, I could not give them rest.
"What is the food situation?"
"We can hold out three more days, but... if the siege drags on I cannot guarantee it."
It was a comprehensive disaster in the truest sense. Supplies, food, even the soldiers' stamina were all showing the bottom.
The first victory had been sweet, but that had been the effect of surprise and nothing more. It had not overturned the desperate situation this castle was in.
'In the end it is a matter of time. At this rate it is our side that withers and dies.'
The incendiary attack had been a success, but it was not enough. To win a war, more explosive power was needed.
Some other measure was necessary. Something stronger and more certain than firebombs. A weapon with overwhelming destructive power such that the enemy would not dare even think of fighting.
When my thoughts reached that point, a word flashed through my head.
'Gunpowder.'
Yes, gunpowder. Black powder. The substance that changed the history of human warfare.
The method of making it was surprisingly simple. Potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal. All you had to do was mix the three in exact proportion.
Charcoal was lying around everywhere in the castle. In the smithy, in the kitchen, in every fireplace.
Sulfur? It was used as a material in alchemy and medicine, so there was a chance that at least a small amount was stockpiled somewhere in the castle.
The problem was potassium nitrate, that is, saltpeter. Obtaining saltpeter in quantity in this era was close to impossible.
But... it could be made. It was a substance that formed naturally in places rich in nitrogen compounds, such as old earthen walls, caves, or compost heaps.
Especially places where livestock droppings and human urine had piled up and rotted over a long time.
Once my thoughts reached that far, I sprang up from my seat and said.
"Konrad."
"Yes, my lord."
"Is there anywhere in the castle where sulfur has been stored? Even a very small amount will do."
At the abrupt question Konrad tilted his head for a moment.
"Sulfur, you say? Well now... I believe the only thing would be the small amount kept in the apothecary for treating skin ailments. But what on earth would you use that for..."
"Bring all of it to my workshop. And Sir Kuno."
"You have only to give the order!"
"Pick out ten of the strongest soldiers with the toughest stomachs and give them shovels and sacks. And... send them to the oldest stable and privy in the castle."
"Yes? Th-the privy, you say?"
Bewilderment crossed Kuno's face.
"Yes. Have them go and scrape together every bit of the damp earth at the base of the walls and the sediment on the floor. As much as they possibly can."
At my instruction Konrad and Kuno, and even János standing beside them, stared at me with appalled faces. They were plainly thinking their lord had gone mad again.
"Ah, my lord. Forgive me, but... what on earth are those filthy things for..."
"No questions, just do as I say. All our lives depend on this."
At my resolute voice they could ask nothing further and carried out the orders.
A short while later, the old shed that had been my private workshop was filled with new materials.
A small jar of yellow sulfur powder brought from the apothecary, fine charcoal powder ground at the smithy, and a foul-smelling mound of earth the soldiers had hauled in while holding their noses.
János asked with a look like he was about to vomit at any moment.
"Ugh... my liege, what on earth do you intend to make with this?"
"Be quiet and watch."
First I dumped the earth into a large tub, poured in water, and stirred. This was the process of separating out the potassium nitrate from the muddy water.
I let the muddy water stand until the dregs settled, then carefully poured off only the clear water above, put it in a cauldron, and began to boil it.
Bubble, bubble...
As the moisture evaporated, white crystals slowly formed at the bottom of the cauldron. It was saltpeter. The purity was low, but for now I had to be satisfied with this much.
I put the saltpeter I had obtained together with the charcoal and sulfur into a mortar and began to grind. The proportions were engraved perfectly in my head.
Potassium nitrate 75 percent, charcoal 15 percent, sulfur 10 percent. The golden ratio of black powder.
Grind, grind...
As the three powders mixed, they turned into a black powder. Before he knew it János was watching the sight with his breath held.
When the mixing was finally done, I took up a handful of the finished powder and carefully set it down on the bare ground outside the shed. Then I picked up a flint and struck a spark.
Tssk—
János took a step back without meaning to.
And in the next moment.
FWOOM!
The gray-black powder blazed up explosively in an instant along with a dazzling flash. Along with thick white smoke, a nose-stinging smell of sulfur spread out.
Only a blackened scorch mark remained on the ground.
"......!"
János's mouth fell open. Unable to comprehend the phenomenon before his eyes, he simply stood there blankly.
"Wh-what... is this, my liege? Is it really the thing I am thinking of?"
I brushed off my blackened fingers and smiled faintly.
"It is exactly the thing you are thinking of. Our new trump card."
Now, if I packed this into a suitable container, a fine bomb would be complete.
But this alone was not enough. Gunpowder was, quite literally, only a last resort. It was not sufficient on its own to overturn the outcome of a battle.
I looked up at the top of the wall.
The joy of victory had lasted only a moment. Already, deep fatigue and dread of the coming battle were plain on the soldiers' faces.
'Will they be able to fight next time the way they did now? Morale, once broken, collapses beyond any stopping. What matters more than the weapon is the heart of the one who uses it.'
Having finished thinking, I carefully tucked the newly completed gunpowder into a leather pouch.
"János, Sir Kuno. Follow me."
"Yes? I shall follow, of course, but... where are you going?"
"To the church."
János tilted his head as if puzzled.
"Are you going to pray to God for victory, then? I did not know my liege had that side to him."
"No. I do not do meaningless things like that."
When yet another impious remark unimaginable in this era followed, Sir Kuno's face went white.
To him, a devout believer, my words would have been no different from blasphemy. But he held firmly to his silence.
My aim was clear. What I needed was not a building made of stone, but the people who would be inside it.
"I am going to meet the people of my domain."