Chapter 141: Lothar's Demise

Weeks passed, and while Berengar was acclimating to the peaceful environment of Kufstein after having been at war for so long. Count Lothar and his rebel supporters were being dragged to Munich, which had recently been captured by Duke Wilmar, where they waited for Count Otto's return before marching on Landshut.

Inside a carriage designed to hold prisoners, Lothar sat in the corner, his back resting against the cold iron bars as he struggled for warmth. The ice-cold air of winter permeated between the gaps of the iron bars and sucked the heat from his body. Beside him were his vassals who had supported him in his rebellion, or at least the few who survived the disastrous siege of Vienna. Lothar's face had not changed since his capture; he had been scowling ever since, thinking over what he could have done to achieve victory.

As he stared into space, he overheard the knight's tasked with escorting his prison carriage, mocking him.

"The mighty Count Lothar, look at him now. Defeated at Vienna, having his lands usurped by an upstart Viscount, even his own Son and heir denounced him and his actions. Pathetic..."

These words stirred Lothar from his stupor; he had not been aware of what happened outside of Vienna as he and his forces were trapped inside the city walls during the majority of Berengar's conquest of Tyrol. He quickly rose from his seated and climbed over to the area where the guards were talking, peering at them. However, the flat of a sword quickly smacked upon his hands as he grasped ahold of the iron bars, forcing him back into the cage.

This action instantly provoked the laughter of the Knights as they mocked the pitiful position the once-mighty Count Lothar had fallen to. However, Lothar did not care about that; he needed to know what happened to his home. As such, he quickly asked the Knights about the information.

"What you said... Is it true?"

The Knights nodded and grinned as they chastised Lothar for his failure; they were all too happy to provide him with the information about what happened to his home while he was trapped in Vienna.

"Some people are calling Berengar a War-Saint. The man led a small army of 5,000 men and conquered all of Tyrol and the nearby Prince-Bishopric of Trent in a little over two months. Innsbruck was the second place to fall to him. After capturing your family and dragging them back to Kufstein, your son Liutbert denounced you and your treachery; he even pledged his loyalty to Berengar, going so far as to proclaim him a man worthy of your title! Your own family thinks of you as nothing more than a backstabbing scoundrel!"

Naturally, the rumors had inflated Berengar's victory; if not for the conscripts which added 5,000 men to his armies and the thousands of levies who fought beside him, he would not have so rapidly seized the territory. However, it was still quite the feat, one which was mostly achieved through superior firepower.

Lothar was shocked by this news and struggled to come to terms with it. The incessant mocking which followed completely went unnoticed by the traitorous Count. Instead, he sunk back into the corner of his cell and began to piece together what had lead to his downfall. In a masterful move by Berengar, his own daughter turned against him, luring a quarter of his army to their certain deaths. Where Berengar then waged a lightning war in Tyrol, cutting off all support from arriving in Vienna which was practically on the other side of the Duchy. By being over-eager, and over-ambitious Lothar had left himself completely shut off from his allies back in his own territory and left them to fend for themselves against a powerful foe. With no support, and a large chunk of his forces missing, Otto was able to trap him and defeat his forces with ease.

Count Lothar sighed heavily; he fully realized the faults he had made in this war. They stemmed from a combination of being a poor father, underestimating his enemies, and immediately going for the enemy capital without establishing a supply line. Only now he realized why Berengar had sold him such high-quality equipment for such a fair price. Because Berengar had already outfitted his own soldiers with some form of armor and weaponry far superior to what he was selling. Berengar had outmaneuvered him at every turn. The worst part of it all was that Count Lothar was not even mad; what he felt was overwhelming respect for how Berengar had played him since the beginning.

After reflecting on his life choices in silence for some time, the Carriage finally pulled into the city square of Munich, where a platform was constructed in the middle of the area, soldiers and civilians alike had gathered to witness the event, and upon seeing the platform, Lothar instantly realized what awaited him. He and his allies would be beheaded publically for all to witness. The moment the carriage stopped, the other Lords within the cell began to panic and struggle, yet they were all pulled out one at a time by the Knights and brought up to the platform. Though they were not able to see the results, everyone knew what was happening, and as such, they did everything they could to escape. All except for Lothar, who sat in his corner with cold, dead eyes. He had already accepted what was to come.

Over an hour passed, and finally, he was all that remained within the carriage; when the guards came to escort him, he did not even resist in the slightest. He wobbled onto the platform with a defeated expression and gazed upon the crowd who jeered him and threw produce and cow pies at him. By the time he reached the chopping block, he was already covered in filth, not that he was in pristine condition before.

Standing in the crowd was Duke Wilmar, who was fully armored and surrounded by his House Guard; a chilling smile was on his face as he stared into Count Lothar's lifeless eyes as the man was placed headfirst onto the chopping block.

Finally, Count Otto began reading his charges, who announced his crimes to the realm and his sentence.

"Count Lothar, For the crimes of rebelling against your Liege and laying siege to his lands in an attempt to usurp his position, you are hereby found guilty and sentenced to death! You and your family's lands and titles are hereby forfeit, where they shall be henceforth be granted to Viscount Berengar von Kufstein and his family for perpetuity. May God have mercy on your soul!"

Hearing that last part, a bitter smile formed on Lothar's face as he stared into Duke Wilmar's eyes. In the end, Lothar had lost everything, and the young Viscount, who started as a Baron's son, who Lothar once believed to be a sickly fool, had inherited his position. It was truly a fitting end. The last thing Lothar saw as the executioner's blade came swinging down upon his neck was the sight of a violent crowd cursing him to damnation and the shocked expression on Wilmar's face when he realized that Lothar was smiling.

Afterward, everything faded black for Count Lothar, and his head was separated from his shoulders; his blood pooled out from the gaping hole in his neck where his head once belonged. The rebellion was over, Berengar had won, and was now officially declared a Count. Lothar would forever be remembered as a stepping stone on Berengar's rise to power.