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.
