On the move again mused Frederick Pohlman, master gunner of the Free Company. As he walked down the lines of guns in the artillery park, he considered how far he'd come in the time he'd joined the Free Company. The last two years had been relatively uneventful compared to the chaos that had accompanied the birth of the Free Company back in Dijon in ’19. The English had been kind to them when they had assigned them to St. Malo. With the town’s defenses in good order for the first time in years and the new coastal forts well stocked with cannon, it would take a determined assault from the French to take the town. And determined assaults had been conspicuous by their absence on both sides since King Henry had died. The war has literally petered out and so they found themselves waiting on a slow boat to Tuscany for gainful employment.
Still the new foundry built back in St. Malo was proving it’s worth. Otto had visited Brabant and the other Duchies in the Low Countries to recruit some good smiths in ’21 and had also made it across the Rhine to Southern Germany. The news he brought back from Bavaria was not good. The whole province was turned upside down by the foolish crusade against the Hussite in Bohemia. Every able bodied man was being pressed into service against the heretics, who despite having the entire Empire lined up against them seemed to have fun decimating every Imperial attack against their strongholds.
‘I was right’ Frederick thought to himself. ‘The Hussite war will be a meat grinder and one that I’m well away from. Still it’s a shame some of those bright lads from Prague couldn’t ply their trade for the Company. Good gunners were always hard to find’. Otto had brought back 20 or so smiths to serve in the foundry, including one Job de Brouwer from Utrecht who had cast guns for the late Duke of Burgundy. A steady stream of cannon, armour and weaponry flowed from the foundry together with other more peaceful items, such as ploughs, scythes and cooking pots. All together the venture was proving a profitable one for all concerned. Even the people of St. Malo had come to accept that the initial cost was worth the cheaper goods they received. With the peace the markets of the French provinces would be more open to them as well, increasing the profits still further.
The arrangement with Milton’s Marauder’s had worked out well too. The “privateers” had grown rich in the service of the English and were more than capable of garrisoning the town in the Free Company’s frequent absences. Their carracks were also beginning to mount some small cannon produced in the foundry.
Spiros had led a recruiting drive in ’20 and ’21 after the Second Siege of Orleans to expand the Artillery Guard. The handgunners had increased from 20 to 50, mostly due to the reputation that the Company had gained as a leading exponent of artillery and guns in general. The other element of the Guard had increased as well with the archers increasing to 80 and the other foot (mainly halberd and bills) to 80. Most of the handgunners and archers were now mounted (although the quality of their nags left much to be desired) whilst the foot and the gunners tended to ride on the war wagons. The standard Company artillery train was now 10 guns mounted on purpose built wagons with heavy wooden mantlets to protect the crew. The guns had served well in the last campaign against the french in Provence.
“Frederick!” Pohlman jumped as Spiros roused him out of his reflections. “Otto has a problem with the new batch of powder we received. Can you have a look at it?”
“Yes of course, Spiros.” Pohlman looked at the Greek. He’d grown so much more confident of his position after the Orelans battles in the defile. He’d even made his peace with Guillaume before he’d taken his leave of the Company’s day-to-day business. Frederick wasn’t too happy with Spiros’ frequent disappearances after his rapprochement with the Italian (or whatever he regarded himself as) but he accepted that the Greek knew his job and whatever “errands” he was doing did not affect his day job.
“Looking forward to returning to Italy, Spiros? It’s been a few years hasn’t it?” asked Frederick
“A few years…..oh, yes. A few years indeed!” Spiros replied hesitantly.
‘Odd?’ thought Frederick ‘I wonder what that means?’