ALTDORF (The Forest Knights: Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

imagined what it would feel like to have his hands around the insufferable creature’s throat, shaking him until the only sound that escaped was the tinkling of those cursed chimes.
    “Welcome brother, we are happy you could join us on such short notice.” Frederick ‘the Handsome’, as he was called, came around the table and the two brothers embraced. Only a year separated them but they looked nothing alike. Leopold was fair haired and willowy in build while Frederick was dark and stocky, like their father had been. Most women would not say Frederick was any more ‘handsome’ than Leopold, but there was a beatific honesty in his smile that made people feel comfortable. When under Leopold’s bold stare on the other hand, people were never at ease. He had his mother’s sharp features: glistening blue eyes and a high-bridged raptorial nose.
    Six of the men were nobles of prestigious Austrian houses, powerful members of the German Empire, but Leopold’s sudden presence made many of them shift in their seats. His open disdain for his father’s advisors was well known. He trusted none of them and felt sick when he thought of his brother in this room alone with these carrion eaters. He made a point of looking at each man and noting who met his eyes and who seemed surprised to see him here. The few who met his eyes quickly looked away, but that in and of itself was not a measure of guilt.
    The Archbishop was seated to one side of Frederick along with a simpler dressed monk Leopold had never before seen. Though he wore the robe of a Dominican, his face had the smugness of a merchant.
    “Forgive my lateness brother. I should have liked to be here sooner but the messenger bearing your summons was waylaid on the road some miles from Habsburg Castle.” Leopold let his eyes wander over the nobles, openly accusing anyone who met his stare.
    Count Henri of Hunenberg, a veteran knight in his late forties who was renowned for spending much of his family’s fortune on several campaigns to the Holy Lands, shook his head and said, “This is further evidence of what I spoke—even the roads in the Aargau are no longer safe since so many of our soldiers were sent north. We must have more patrols to ensure the safety of messengers and merchants. And from what the Archbishop here tells us, the monks of Einsiedeln also require enforcers in their pastures near Schwyz.”
    “Ridiculous,” Otto, the late King Albrecht’s grey-haired military adviser grunted. “Louis the Bavarian openly defies Frederick’s tutelage and is marshaling his forces as we speak. We must maintain a show of force in the north. Only war will decide the German kingship now. I must be granted direct control of the Sturmritter if Habsburg rule is to prevail.”
    Leopold looked at Otto, shocked by the old general’s cunning. No one understood Otto better than Leopold, for Otto had been his principal tutor growing up. King Albrecht had recognized the natural gifts of his children; Frederick, with his easy smile, was the natural politician, but in Leopold he had seen the future Marshal of the Habsburg armies, and his father had seen to his education accordingly.
    Otto had just made his play for control of the most fearsome fighting force in all of Europe. The Stormriders were a cavalry force created by Leopold’s grandfather, the first Habsburger to become King of the Germans. He had assembled the top fighting men in Europe, provided them with the best horses and equipment, and granted them their own castle from which they would serve the Habsburg rulers. They were full-time warriors and the highest paid knights in the known world. Competition to join the Sturmritter was intense and every year men died during the fierce tournaments that served as auditions for young men seeking to earn fame and a place amongst the elite.
    Otto openly stared at Frederick, demanding a response, but before Frederick could say anything, Leopold spoke up. “I am afraid that is