monarch

The Prince of Orange finally signed the same document as Bishop Gardner, and everyone present noticed that his lips were pursed tightly, as if someone had sewn his mouth shut with thread In general, it is clear that the Dutch dignitary did not quite get what he wanted in England.After paying huge concessions, what they got in exchange was only a not-so-satisfactory agreement. Under such circumstances, it would be difficult for anyone to be more open-minded than the Prince of Orange.

Once the signing ceremony was over, the Prince of Orange left immediately, and the carriage that brought him to Hampton Court Palace had been waiting for its owner in the square.That evening the prince boarded a clipper three-masted ship and sailed for the Netherlands with a copy of the treaty of alliance.There, the members of the confederacy of nobles were eagerly awaiting good news from England from their leader.

Another two weeks passed, and by late February, anyone could see that the diplomatic negotiations between Britain and Spain had completely stalled.Philip II seemed to have made up his mind that he would not make any compromises. He didn't even consider such a transaction as the delivery of small islands such as St. Maarten or Anguilla in exchange for Britain's return of the seized 60 florins.The Spanish ambassador, who initially visited the foreign minister two or three times a day, is now much less frequent.But what he brought was always just empty promises, not even the slightest substantive benefits.

On February [-], [-], the desperate Spanish authorities in the Netherlands finally informed the soldiers of the Flanders Legion that the payment of the military pay originally scheduled for this month would be delayed for three months.This decision naturally caused strong dissatisfaction among the army. It has been nearly half a year since the last payment. The reaction was naturally extremely intense.

Among the entire Flanders Legion, the most dissatisfied is the First Army stationed in Antwerp. The time they have been owed is the longest among the various armies of the Flanders Legion, as of the end of February , The first army still has eight months of military pay that has not yet been paid.To make the situation worse, Antwerp, where the First Army was stationed, was the largest city and commercial capital of the Netherlands, and its prices were second to none in the entire Netherlands, and even within the Spanish Empire. Many of the soldiers who are in arrears live worse than beggars in the city. In fact, a huge scandal was exposed two months ago that several soldiers used their vacation time to beg in the city, which made the commanders of the Spanish garrison lose face. .

Under the stern order of the Duke of Alva, the commander of the Flanders Legion, begging was completely banned, but even the Duke of Alva, who was known for his strictness, could not stop these impoverished soldiers from going to the city to seek food in their spare time. After all, if it weren't for the fact that there was no way out, the members of the Spanish elite legion would not have dropped their spears and muskets and went to the city to serve as porters for the Dutch merchants they looked down upon Or a handyman in a handicraft workshop.

The troubles facing the Spaniards do not stop there. In recent years, the local labor market in Antwerp has long been saturated. The influx of these Spanish soldiers has caused great dissatisfaction among the local workers. Fights between the soldiers and the locals have occurred one after another. It has become a huge dry powder keg, just waiting for some idiot to spark, willfully or not, and it will all erupt like Vesuvius.

Even the military officers were deeply troubled by the money problem. Most of the king's military officers were from noble families and had always spent a lot of money. When they came to this bustling commercial capital, they would naturally spend a lot of money.In order to maintain their own lives, they can only borrow from bankers in the city with extremely high interest rates. Many people even mortgage their family swords and rings, and even they themselves know that they will never lose money. There is no money to redeem those precious collaterals.Dislike of the Dutch was spreading through the army like a forest fire in the dry season. To the bone.

In a corner of the city of Antwerp stands the large-scale Antwerp Fortress. This huge defense project designed by Italian engineers is an engineering miracle in the [-]th century. This pentagram-shaped fortress was praised by many people at that time. It is the first fortification in Europe.

There should have been an elite army stationed in this well-designed fortification, but it is a pity that this elite army has now become a mob.Count Sancho de Ávila, commander of the First Army, was a diligent officer who worked sixteen-hour days trying to salvage low morale, but in late February even he himself had to Admit that all attempts to reorganize the army are futile.Under the current situation, to bring this army back to life, the only effective prescription is gold coins, and at this moment there is not even a single gold coin left in his treasury.

The time is fast approaching the last day of February, the cold winter of 1556-1557 is coming to an end, the sun that has gradually warmed up is getting longer and longer in the sky, and the ice in the valleys and creeks It started to melt, and the currents picked up the broken ice, raising the level of the Scheldt, which flows through the city of Antwerp, by nearly ten feet.It is a pity that the sun may be able to melt the ice and snow in nature, but it is difficult to shake the ice in politics, that wall of ice that tore the entire Netherlands in two, and as time goes by, it becomes more and more serious every day. Taller, stronger, and soon it will be indestructible.

At dusk of the day, when the towers and battlements of the bastion had faded into blurred shadows in the twilight, men in cloaks entered the castle.The entire huge fortress was heavily guarded, and all the checkpoints were doubled. The tense air was spreading everywhere along with the night. Everyone could smell the tense air. Obviously, something big was about to happen.

In a room on the top floor of the central main tower of the fortress, Count Sancho de Ávila, commander of the First Army, was sitting alone at a desk, with his elbows resting on the table and his hands resting on cheek.Spread out on the desktop of the writing desk is a copy of Julius Caesar's "Gallic Wars". Countless military commanders have benefited from reading the memoirs of this great man for 500 years.

The Count de Ávila, who had just celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday, was a high-ranking officer from a prominent Castilian family whose genealogy dates back to the time when the Song of Roland was written.Because of this, the Comte de Avis never bothered with vulgar money matters, but that didn't mean he couldn't understand the plight his men were facing.For half a month, the count tried every means to pay his soldiers at least one month's salary in advance, but both the female governor of Brussels and the Duke of Alva in Picardy expressed their feelings to him. There is nothing I can do to help.The Earl's eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his originally rosy skin also showed an unhealthy pale color due to anxiety and lack of rest, but all this was in vain. Not only did the military salary crisis show no signs of being resolved, it intensified on the contrary up.

The sound of footsteps outside the door interrupted the earl's contemplation. He turned his head, revealing an equally pale face from behind the opened door curtain.Count de Ávila recognized it as his deputy, Count Otto from Germany, who entered the room.

Earl Otto did not come alone. Behind him were several other senior officers of the First Legion. Each of them looked frowning, but their eyes were burning with excitement. This strange The contrast could not help but give Count de Avila a sense of foreboding.

"Gentlemen." Count de Avila put on a haughty gesture of a superior officer, and nodded towards his subordinates, "What do you mean?"

The officers who broke into the room exchanged glances, and after a while, Count Otto took two steps forward, apparently about to speak as a representative.

"You have also seen it, my lord." Count Otto said in Spanish with a strong German accent, "The current situation is already terrible."

"I don't need you to remind me of this." Count de Ávila said coldly, "What I am commanding now is no longer an army, it is disintegrating itself, and I can see this every moment. Appreciate it. The latest example is before me: you broke into your commander's room without my consent, which is the best embodiment of military discipline."

"We take the liberty to disturb your lord because we hope that you can take some measures." Earl Otto said.

"Ah!" Count de Ávila slammed his hand on the table, his tone tinged with obvious sullenness, "what do you think I was doing the last two weeks? When you and your friends were in town All the while drinking and carousing, and taking women on sleigh rides into the country, I've been sitting in this office, writing to everyone I can think of, and the answer is the same: they don't have money either! Brussels doesn't Money, Liege has no money, Madrid has no money, the entire Spanish Empire can't give me a gold coin, I really don't know where all the gold and silver from America went."

Count de Avila gasped, "Do you want me to take measures? It's very simple, just give each soldier ten gold coins, then by the end of this week, the discipline of the army will be restored. Sorry Unfortunately, I am not King Midas, and I have no magic touch."

"We are just here to give you a suggestion on this matter." Count Otto grinned exaggeratedly under the thick red-brown beard, and a long scar on his face followed the terrifying The smile also began to sway, like a snake that had ended its hibernation and was twisting its body.

"Oh? I don't know which god can create such a miracle?" Count de Avila's tone was full of sarcasm.

"On our own, my lord, as the old saying goes, God helps those who help themselves."

"Rely on us? Get 60 florins? I think you must have lost your mind." Count de Avila sneered contemptuously.

"It's not just 60 florins we want to talk to you, my lord! You are sitting on the edge of a treasure house. As long as you give an order, let alone 60 florins, it is 100 million, 1000 million. I'm afraid you can do it too." Get it easily." Count Otto pointed out the window with a finger.

Count de Ávila, who was full of suspicion, followed Count Otto's pointing and looked out of the window. What caught his eyes was the brightly lit city of Antwerp.The moon god Artemis has taken over the dominance of the sky from her brother Apollo, but the city has no intention of sleeping. The light from candles and torches gathers and disperses in the air.

And this bustling city, just outside the high walls of the fortress, is like an open safe. In the eyes of Count Otto, the light of the lights is like the glitter of gold in the safe.

Count de Ávila took a step back in horror and put his hands to his forehead.

"God." He crossed himself on his chest, "You are really crazy, even if you think about it in your mind, you will go to hell!"

"If we don't, the soldiers are going to send us to hell very soon."

"Have you considered the consequences? What will His Majesty say?"

"These are rebels, my lord. If someone said to your majesty: Sire, you will get rid of all enemies in a great city tomorrow, and when the sun rises again, Antwerp will be completely cleansed, what do you think?" Will His Majesty be unhappy?" Count Otto said, "Those Protestants, Jews, how dare they look down on the warriors of the King of Spain, these untouchables will pay the price in blood!"

"But there are still many Catholics in the city!" Count de Avila was a little annoyed.

"We will try our best to ensure their safety." Count Otto shrugged nonchalantly. "In principle, we only kill Protestants, Jews and foreigners."

"In principle?"

"Yes, my lord, it's night now, and you know that soldiers don't care about anything if they're jealous... You can't ask them to judge whether the person in front of them is a Catholic or a Christian at such a time." Protestants... some Catholics may lose their lives, but it's for the cause of God, and I think both the Pope and God will understand. In a way, the Catholics in this town are doing it to themselves, if they really If they are loyal enough, then they should have come to help us long ago, instead of standing aside and watching the fun, and now they have burned themselves, and they can’t blame others.”

"How many Protestants are you going to kill?" Count de Avila's voice was already trembling.

"All of them, my lord!" Count Otto laughed excitedly, and the laughter echoed among the stone walls, evoking creepy echoes, "With your permission, we will send thousands of Protestants go to hell!"

He slapped the scabbard of the broad sword hanging on his waist vigorously, "The King of England has stolen our military pay, so we will pay ourselves!"

Count de Avila looked at the officers standing behind Count Otto, "Gentlemen, may I think that what Count Otto said just now is what you mean?"

The room was eerily quiet and no one made a sound, but the expressions on their faces clearly answered Count de Avila's question.

Count de Ávila slumped in his armchair with a dejected expression, his fingers nervously tearing at the well-maintained curly mustache above his lips.

"You are a noble nobleman. I understand that your family status cannot be stained by blood." Count Otto continued, "But I am different... I was just a Swabian mercenary leader. I also conferred the title myself, and it was only recognized because of my service to His Majesty the late emperor. I don't care about staining my family crest with blood. You don't need to do anything, just do as usual, Ask your servant to bring you supper at eight o'clock, and after that you go to bed, shut the windows tightly, and draw the curtains so you can neither hear nor see... …when you wake up tomorrow morning, it will be over, and for your fair share, we will give you what you deserve, and there will be no rumors to the detriment of you and your family What do you think of my suggestion?"

Count de Avila opened his mouth slightly like a carp spitting air, but no sound came out of his parched throat.

After a long time, a sigh finally came out of that mouth, "You pushed me too hard, sir, don't forget, I am the commander in chief of the army."

"No, you are not, my lord." Earl Otto shook his head, "You also said that now you are nothing but a mob, and you are their leader, maybe not even the leader. When tomorrow morning I When you fill every soldier's purse with gold coins, you are a true commander."

Count de Avila looked at the ceiling resignedly, and after a long time, he said in a very soft voice: "Everyone, step back, I'm going to have supper."

Count Otto showed the frightening ferocious smile again, "Then I wish you a good appetite, my lord, and I wish you a good night."

"I hope so too." Count de Avila lowered his head again, flipping through the "Gallic Wars" on the table.

Count Otto strode out of the room, the officers following him like crows following Death's cloak.