Chapter Twenty-Five: A Private Marriage Arrangement

If someone were to tell Matheus Johan Weiss back in 1924 that within 10 years, not only would he have partaken in the largest and most destructive conflict in human history, serving in the most distinguished aerial mage battalion in Imperial history under the greatest mage commander of its generation, but his wartime service would launch his political career to such heights as to be granted regular audience with the venerable elders of the Empire, he would have jumped with glee.

In 1924, Weiss hoped that the war would end by Christmas so he could return home with an Iron Cross.

A naive sentiment. If only Weiss could go back and tell his juvenile self the price for such honor and glory.

By 1932, Weiss hoped there was a home to return to.

He buried his siblings.

He buried his grandparents.

He buried his country.

His family held artifacts and stories centuries old, his lineage could be traced back to Charlemagne himself, but none of it mattered. Washed away in a tide of apathetic modernity and the unrelenting march of Tomorrow. Everywhere he looked were constant reminders of his greatest failure as a soldier and knight of the Empire. There was nothing to look forward to in life knowing what he had lost.

Was it wrong to say he enjoyed the Great War? Perils and all? At least back then, he had something worth fighting for.

Weiss was tired of the Weimar Republic.

Weiss was sick of it.

Tired of communists, socialists, radicals, betrayals, conspiracies, politicking…even Judeans. All they do is complain. All they ever want to do is leave. Leave to the Francois Republic…to the Unified States…the countries that trianofied the Empire and murdered his family…Did they not love this country like him? They were supposed to be his brothers and sisters defending what remained of the old order.

Oh, what Weiss wouldn't give just to have Tanya return to Germania to enact some "discipline" among the Judean militias. Heh. Oh, Tanya… He loved her. He loved his commander. If only she could just…focus on them instead. Her unit, the 203rd, instead of these bureaucratic parasites that call themselves "Progressives."

The only thing this country is progressing towards is oblivion. Inflation is getting out of control and no one seems to know where the money is going. It is nothing short of a miracle that Germania scrapped enough cash to fill out its first reparation payment to the victorious Allies. Treachery. Treachery and stupidity were everywhere. The Reichstag is rife with it.

Everything could have been resolved by now if the government kept Tanya within reach instead of casting her out like a leper. The Argent Silver just needs to give him the word and he will descend upon these worthless vermin like a dragon roasting rats.

"Heil Degurechaff." Weiss greeted, stretching out his right arm in a perfect 45-degree angle. A gesture practiced a thousand times in Hamburg and will be practiced a thousand times more in Brandenburg and Silesia now that the KSA has been recalled. He was initially apprehensive at the action when Tanya made her displeasure known but ever since then, it only felt more right to do it.

As Elena put it so nicely, like the revolutionaries who took the Tennis Court Oath, unity is paramount to ensuring Tanya's success.

Hans von Zettour, however, looked thoroughly unimpressed by the bold display. His mood only lightened somewhat when Weiss quickly adjusted his stance to a more traditional, military greeting. Right, Zettour did not like Elena. Given that this meeting was private, his displeasure against the "racially confused upstart" was more pronounced. Weiss caught himself before he could laugh at another Judenvolk joke. Flashes of Tanya's unflinching gaze erupted in his mind and he forced himself to stay consummate.

One bottle of the strongest champagne in Zettour's storage said otherwise.

"In Hamburg, I asked a Judean whore why she idolized the Argent Silver." Weiss slurred his words, as he reclined on the comfiest chair in Berun. "She said that it's because she is brave, beautiful, and glorious. I told her we all aspire to be someone we're not."

"She charged you extra for that, didn't she?" Zettour chuckled.

"She did, not too surprising…" the veteran mage laughed at his own joke, reaching over for another bottle, "I half expected that she would reject me outright; I didn't have my cock clipped after all. Konig once told me that Judean women won't touch anything that wasn't at least 10% off."

"How well did these Judeans perform in the KSA?" the Junker inquired dryly.

"Remarkably well." Weiss paused for a moment. "Up until the executions happened."

As it turns out, Judeans were easily disturbed whenever one of their own was set before a noose; conserving bullets was the priority now that shipments from the Czech-Slovak State seldom arrive. Of course, they insisted that everyone should have a fair trial before a judge, even if the Judean accused was, in fact, a Bolshevik rabble-rouser or colluded with the communist traitors. In his eyes, however, no insult against Germania's honor was too small.

When Weiss sent word to Elena about morale issues among the Judean members, she "gently" reminded them that the purpose of the KSA was to deliver the Argent Silver's judgment onto the faithless.

The system that she established to "placate" their concerns was simple: the trial was to be done at night, inside empty warehouses or rooms, whereas the "jury" was handpicked by Elena - all rabid anti-communists - while the prosecutor was appointed by Weiss, while the accused had a defense counsel from the KSA. There was no civilian audience present, no pesky reporters, nor the burden of proof required.

As Executioner Elena explained it so eloquently, the purpose wasn't to find the communist traitors guilty of treason, it was to deny them a chance to reclaim their innocence. Communist or Judean, National Vanguardist or Socialist, it didn't matter anymore. Each night ended when the accused was found hanging under a street post before the rising sun.

"But morale eventually improved." Weiss laughed quietly, skipping the ceremony of pouring the wine into a glass and instead drinking straight from the bottle. "It was a good thing too. We had run out of rope."

Many Judeans in the KSA deserted. Some left for greener pastures in the Unified States. That was fine for Weiss for all he cared. They weren't true soldiers anyway. Not real patriots like him, Neumann, and Konig. But for the few Judeans that stayed, their undying faith and loyalty to Germania will be rewarded, he vowed to make it happen. They will have entire monuments built in their honor.

The way Weiss saw it. Their method of murder was mercy. If they were caught by Der Stahlhelm, well, Duester boasted how he discovered 100 ways to skin a Judean. But that was a small threat compared to how the Argent Silver would react to the whiff of cowardice and treason.

"Fascinating," Zettour grumbled, seemingly undisturbed by the news, "But moving on to more important news. When have you last heard of Degurechaff?"

"That she was dancing in Wien to overthrow that traitor Dollfuss…"

"And experienced another assassination attempt on her life."

Weiss's eyes shot up immediately. The clouded feelings were shot out of his mind like a bullet upon hearing those foreboding words.

"I need to get to Wien," he stated grimly. "I need to contact Elena. We need to send a KSA squad to Osterry to protect her-"

"Peace, Herr Weiss." Zettour gestured for him to sit back down. "She is alive and unspoiled but her enemies are still at large."

"All the more reason to-"

"Weiss." The junker glared the veteran into polite restraint. "I did not call you here to watch you babble. You are a soldier, the defender of Germania's liberty, and the finest mage of our time."

"Funny, everyone says that. It's a fine opinion to have…" Weiss laughed. He was a prideful man, as strong as any other scion, but to claim superiority for the Argent Silver? That is a duel he can live without.

"It's not an opinion. It's a FACT."

The harshness in the words indicated total finality and forced the veteran mage to observe the old general in a new light. A brief silence existed between the two men; nothing in the estate threatened to disturb Zettour's will. Weiss tried his hardest not to look foolish before the former despot but his body betrayed his inner discomfort.

"Germania is in danger of becoming another footnote in history. The Argent Silver is our greatest legacy as a people and we would be damned to not see it continued. She is indomitable, yes, the best soldier any Kaiser could ask for, but she is still a woman and has yet to fulfill her final obligation to the nation." Zettour declared as if he were the sovereign of the Empire. In a way, perhaps he still is. "What happened in Wien proves how further mingling with the unrighteous riffraff is putting our lives, our nation, into jeopardy. I cannot stand how she is willing to surround herself with such pitiful creatures."

"That is very hilarious, Zettour. Will Degurechaff even obey?"

"She will do her final duty to the Empire as a wife and mother of mages." The Junker's eyes turned dark upon hearing such a preposterous inquiry. "As will you."

At first, Weiss' face was immutable - frozen in a dumbfounded expression - before slowly distorting in utter disbelief. He heard many ridiculous and foul remarks throughout his life ever since he joined the Imperial Army but this was far beyond what he could have even remotely imagined. Bewilderment, fear, and excitement crashed against each other like two armies charging across No Man's Land. Never would he have considered himself the primary candidate for such a spectacular arrangement.

"Degurechaff is young, virgin, fertile, and must breed out an heir. So long as our enemies persist in bringing further ruination to the Empire, we must maintain our mage superiority."

"Yes…" Weiss agreed, his words left his mouth at a snail's pace. It was a simple calculation: Germania needs stronger mages in large quantities. One Argent Silver was enough to withstand the Allied onslaught. But with two? Six? A platoon of Argent Silvers? The Empire would never have fallen after the Great War. "But…"

"But what?" Zettour demanded.

"Would she like me? As a husband?"

Kyrieleis! That sounded so unnatural.

It was a silly question but it needed to be said. Weiss respected Degurechaff and she valued him in return. That was the simple reality but it was also a matter of hierarchy. Even in his most lecherous thoughts, the KSA mage could not imagine her in civilian clothing, much less naked; her uniform was her skin. Nor could he imagine himself as the patriarch of this relationship. She would dominate every discussion, every encounter, and every argument as she did in the war room. How can Weiss be the man of the house when the Argent Silver demonstrated superior leadership and authority?

Granted, he personally wouldn't be opposed to this hierarchy. After all, brutal she may be but the Major always did him and the 203rd right. Her integrity is impeachable, her honor secured, and her virtue heaven-sent. Weiss would at least go to work every morning and come home every night knowing that he would not be cuckold by another man.

Of course, what would Neumann and Konig say? What would the rest of the 203rd say? What would the people of Germania say? That this renowned officer was being led around like a horse drawing carts by a woman half his size? His proud masculinity refused to have him live in such a reality.

He is Matheus Johan Weiss, by God, groomed to continue the family legacy as a gentleman and officer! Not some brow-beaten manservant.

"Do you intend on abusing Degurechaff?" Zettour retorted, "Her happiness and joy as a spouse is none of my concern nor should it be yours. She is the strongest mage of our time and you, by all accounts, are the best candidate to marry her. Only through strong genes and strict regime can we ensure future mages of her aptitude."

"Very good arguments but there's a problem." Weiss countered with a crooked smile.

"And, what, pray, is that?"

"I'm already engaged. My marriage has been planned for the near future! I cannot do this!" Weiss protested. "It is an affront to tradition and God and-"

"Kaiser Charlemagne had six wives at once during his reign. Do you really believe that your apprehension towards a minor breach in monogamic tradition is greater than the complete obliviation of the Germanic people?" Zettour spoke with utter disdain for Weiss' hesitation. "If it displeases you so much, then I suggest that you get married, put a child in Degurchaff, walk away, and return to your betrothed. There is no shortage of Papalist priests willing to bend the rules to annul the marriage without inflicting the stain of divorce upon either party."

"I…well…"

"Do you know how many lesser men would have jumped at the chance to claim Degurechaff as their own? Much less have the opportunity to claim ownership of two wives? With this marriage, we can finally put an end to the disgusting rumors about her."

Rumors? Right, those rumors. Weiss suddenly remembered that he shot a drunk man with his Luger for spouting such filth during his time in Hamburg. In hindsight, he should have fired at his feet or broken one of his arms.

"Just one child?"

"I expect more than two."

"More than two?!"

"At least three. As many as you can give us."

"I should…consult with my fiance about this."

"Why does her voice matter here?"

"She deserves to know at least."

"And risk allowing the downfall of our civilization due to the whims of one minor objection?"

"I will make the final decision." Weiss promised, "But she must know first."

"I understand-" Zettour began.

"May I say one word more? Does Degurechaff know?"

This marriage will be the most important decision of their lives. The sooner she is told, the better.

"Yes." Zettour answered, "I have sent a letter to Wien in which I request that you tell Elena to cease any potential interception of my packages."

Heh. Weiss laughed internally to see the Junker's face sour when the name left his mouth.

"Would the children know? Our children?" The young man questioned. "The nature of their birth?"

"No more than what is necessary."

"Will I be the one to raise them?"

"Do you want to?"

"They need a father figure in their lives," Weiss remarked. As great as Tanya was, she was still just one woman. "So, obviously, I would want to be there for my children."

For the first time since arriving, Weiss saw Zettour smile, though small, it was nonetheless proud and expectant. A small victory for the guest for making his host enjoy the small talk.

"Weiss," the Junker began, "How do you feel about becoming the Kaiser?"

The young veteran immediately laughed his heart out. It was such a ridiculous concept that he had to drown out his tears with another glass of champagne and wine. To ascend to such a prestigious position in society was beyond any of his wildest dreams. Weiss merely wanted to go down in history as one of the finest soldiers to have ever lived. To retire with full honors and a chest decorated with medals of every shape and color.

But to become the new sovereign and overturn centuries of established lineages was a preposterous thought and yet…and yet, Weiss did promise to make Degurechaff his Kaiserin. They could rule together. A holy union seemingly ripped out of the pages of a fairy tale. Together, they can save the Empire. Save Germania.

Together, they could conquer Europe and make it their own backyard. From Olissipo and Moskova, they could make the entire continent bow to their feet and worship them. But more objectively though, given the sheer disparity between the two sexes, Weiss could only ensure that his consort would be the one whose hegemony is absolute.

Unfortunately for these grand ambitions awakened inside of the veteran mage, honor still triumphed.

"Where does my fiance fit in these schemes? Where does my Wilhelmina exist in this royal court?" Weiss demanded. If he becomes Kaiser and Degurechaff becomes Kaiserin, where does that leave her? A mistress? A concubine? She was his original bride! Surely, she deserves a share of the glory?

"She will be whatever you want her to be," Zettour grumbled. "Though we have greater concerns to worry about."

"And what would that be? This is my betrothed! This is a great concern for me."

"Elena."

It is always Elena. Though, Weiss can't argue with that sentiment.

His fiance may kill him in a heated argument; Elena would slice him into tiny pieces and throw them into the Oder River. To say that he chaffs under her leadership, as she is the one who proposed and laid the groundwork of the KSA, would not be entirely inaccurate. Like Degurechaff, Weiss did respect her authority given how their goals of a strong and united Empire align with one another.

They agreed on many things but disagreed on many more. Namely, the role of the KSA once the Argent Silver takes the throne. Is it a party? A civilian organization? A paramilitary force of thugs? Or perhaps, more radically, an entirely new army to replace the decadent and lame Junkers that still cling to every last scrap of relevancy. Elena said that nothing fundamental would change if Tanya chose to allow men like Zettour and Rudensdorf to exist as they are: relics of an old world that killed itself in the pursuit of eternal vainglory.

In Elena's eyes, the KSA - in blunt terms - was to be the new army; a new army for a new world that has no place for obsolete traditions with Degurechaff as its immortal commander. An army where new blood like Heydryck can rise above their previous station and become something more…Obviously, its existence was criminal under the current regime and thus must remain secret. The ranks were only opened to those who swore personal oaths of loyalty to Tanya von Degurechaff with Weiss as her primary bannerman. Unconditional obedience was the only prerequisite for entry.

He may not be a schemer but he knew what Zettour wanted from him. The old general was terrified of his former agent, terrified of her raw intelligence; any blind man could see though the mage was polite enough not to say it to his face.

From plotting to marry one superior to killing the other, Weiss really wondered which side he was on. He was a soldier, not an assassin, and yet here Zettour was, requesting him to betray a key ally and disband her ambitions within Degurechaff's movement.

Weiss suddenly remembered an adage floating around in the War Academy during his time: where there are Judeans, there are plagues. Was that who they were referring to? Elena? Listening to the Junker laying out his reasons for eliminating the most valued member of Degurechaff's war party with a dagger to the spine made him wish Argent Silver was present in the room.

Perhaps, it was not a physical illness but a sickness of the mind and soul. The way the former despot spoke of his former executioner made it seem that Elena was one of the Four Horsemen of Revelation. But she was only half-Judean.

She didn't look Judean. She didn't sound Judean. She didn't do anything remotely Judean. The way Weiss saw it, she was as Germanian as any other. And although her proposals on how Germania and the Empire should be run were…certainly radical. But can he fault her? Seeing the effects of a Degurechaff-less government made him and everyone he knew sympathetic to the idea of reenacting the Francois Revolution. What would his ancestors say?

Heh...a little revolution never hurt anyone, right?

But since when does the Argent Silver do "little" endeavors?

This ignores the big question of having to explain his reasoning for removing Elena from the political equation to Tanya. Zettour assures that he will smooth things over with her but Weiss felt a strong impulse to openly question his judgement. Tanya's patience is limited for such contrivances, unlike her wrath.