The return of the fallen king

April 25th, 1268th year since the Lord's birth

Two days ago, near the small town of Chignolo Po, a fight occurred in which 3,500 Ghibelline forces ambushed a 4,000-man Milanese army! The 4,000 men were all dispatched by the Republic of Milan to assist Charles in his struggle against Conradin, and they had all been defeated, giving Conradin a fantastic victory. Those who had not been murdered or captured would undoubtedly lay down their weapons and reconsider twice before joining the fight against Conradin again . This was all extremely excellent news for the Ghibellines, and they could only be pleased with their win because it demonstrated that their cause was not doomed to fail.

The surrounding landscape was a testament that Conradin was not a passive player and instead was someone who actively shaped his fate to his interests, which showed how determined he was to succeed. The battle was in fact an astonishing victory for Conradin, as he basically vanquished an entire army that was supposed to fight against him while losing only about 300 men in the battle. That was quite phenomenal, and it showed that his allies' faith in him was not misplaced.

The site where the battle had taken place was a testament to the horrors of war. The scene was an ugly one, and one of the first things that were notable were the dead bodies that were spread out from the battle site, with many of them having been killed by the Ghibellines in their fight against the Milanese army. There were also many wounded Milanese soldiers, whose cries and lamentations were heard throughout the area, as they had suffered quite a defeat during this battle, which was certainly painful for them.

The day after the battle, there were dozens of men who were wandering around, searching for lost loot or simply killing those Milanese who were still alive on the battlefield. This scene was an all too common one, as the winner always claimed the right to loot against the loser, and today was no exception. The men were eager to search the loser's bodies for any booty that could still be found before returning to camp. The men who were still left alive were now just looking for whatever they could find and for whatever else could turn a profit as well.

Ravens were flying in the sky, their black feathers contrasting with the brilliant blue of the sky. They appeared to be devils soaring across the sky, eager to drop to the battlefield and feast on the bodies of the Milanese warriors. Their cries could be heard as they swooped over the battlefield, terrifying those who were still alive. This would undoubtedly be a bleak sight for the people to watch. Some ravens, on the other hand, were impatient and liked to feast on whatever they could find; they pecked their beaks into the eyes of the dead, carrying their meal down their throats.

Such a sight, however, was out of the eyes of Conradin, as he was currently in his tent alongside Frederick, Galvano, and Enrico. This was a little private feast among the group, as all they did was drink and eat bits of meat and bread. They seemed to be in high spirits and were clearly happy to have won such a victory against their enemies. This was certainly a good time for them to celebrate, and it was nice to be able to relax after such a hard battle. If they were successful, then this could only bode well for the rest of their campaign.

''NO NO, let me tell you, I saw him clear as day. He thrashed himself through the Milanese lines without regard for his safety. I noticed with my own eyes that this fool was about to die. The second , I swear, before a Milanese soldier was about to pierce him with the spear. The horse, his fuc*ing damn horse, bit him and saved the damn knight .'' ( German warhorses were trained to defend their rider by biting the neck of other soldiers and also horses) Frederick screamed to the group while reminiscing about how he witnessed a knight being saved by his horse. It was clear that this man was too drunk; his head was going right and left from the sheer force of the wine that was in his body. But Frederick was not the only one who had too much wine; also Enrico and Conradin had too much. Only Galvano had remained sober, even though he was the one who drank the most; apparently, he was a veteran of drinking or was simply stoic even under the influence of Dyonisus.

''Bulls*t, there is no possible way that a damn horse bit someone, even more so during a chaotic battle." Enrico spoke with a drunk and slurring voice, showing that he was also far too intoxicated by the alcohol he had drunk. The three young men were clearly getting along very well with each other after sharing the same experience of blood and wine, and it seemed that their friendship had started to bloom from their experiences. It was clear that they were now much more comfortable with each other, and their drunkenness only proved it.

''Then why don't you prove it? Go outside, take a horse-hic-, whip out your thing, and he will bite as if it were a carrot. Who knows, maybe you'll even like it!'' Frederick said this while laughing loudly, throwing himself in his chair, and resting his eyes in a drunken stupor. He seemed thoroughly inebriated as he made a very dirty suggestion, and it was clear that he was just messing around with those present.

"I'm sure you've tried it yourself, haven't you?" Enrico replied, clearly amused by Frederick's quick thinking to come up with such a nasty response. He knew his friend was joking and that it wasn't meant to be taken seriously, but it was still entertaining to hear what Frederick could come up with while inebriated.

Conradin quickly joined in the laughter, clearly amused by the brief dialogue between the two, and, as a result, he chuckled along with Frederick. Even though much of it was Frederick babbling, it made for a hilarious scene as everyone just laughed together at each other . 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝓫𝓷𝓸𝒗𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝓶

Galvano, the most sober of the bunch, observed that they'd all had too much to drink and opted to retire to his tent with his son. He was clearly more responsible than the other three, and he realized that if they continued in this manner, they would only wind up embarrassing themselves and probably saying something they would later regret.'' You're no good. Galvano, you're always so serious, come on, let yourself go, ''Conradin teased. ''Well, your majesty, someone has to be. Galvano replied, provoking Frederick to giggle with his eyes closed; apparently, he didn't appear to be sleeping. Galvano, on the other hand, was having none of it and simply shrugged it off and remained stoic so that he could continue to make sure no one exaggerated with their light jabs.

This did not stop Frederick, however, as he seemed to be quite the party animal and in no mood to stop drinking. He even went as far as to call Galvano "Galvano Killjoy".

''Yeah, yeah, as you say, Killjoy, from now on you are to be known as Galvano Killjoy'', Conradin said, wanting to be one with the last say.

''How you desire your highness, I shall be known as that then ''. Galvano said while bringing with him his inebriated son, clearly to the latter's displeasure.

It was still early in the evening, and even though Conradin was too drunk to leave the tent, he still wanted to try and strike up a conversation with a brain-dead Frederick. He was not sure if Frederick was sleeping or even awake, but his lack of response seemed to suggest that he was probably quite a few bottles too deep into his cups. Regardless, Conradin kept trying to talk to him, hoping that he was not, in fact, just unconscious from drinking too much.

Seeing that the latter was silent, Conradin was left alone with himself, leaving him to play with his own thoughts. He wondered about what Gerwin was doing, along with how Corrado's mission was going. Little did he know that his loyal vassal had already infiltrated his men in many Sicilian cities and was about to liberate most of the island from Charles' control. If he had known, he would have surely gone to sleep with a smile that was not inducted by drunkenness, as it was now happening.

Authors though :

Sup guys, apparently all over Europe warhorses were trained in differently way, for example in Germany they were trained to bite while in France and Spain to instead kick and thrash around.

Hope you like the chapter, please review the novel and write a comment if you want to say something that you would like to read.

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