Guido Rangoni is in Padua surrounded by the largest army assembled in Italy since the Roman Empire. Among the enemy ranks are the crown of German aristocracy, the flower of French Chivalry, an assortment of famed Italian Condottiere, and a core of cutthroat mercenaries comprised of Landsknechts and Gascons; totaling almost 40,000 men. Defending Padua are the remnants of the Venetian army, just over 10,000 men, led by the same Condottiere captain that refused to engage the French at Agnadello, Niccolo di Pitigliano, and a washed up merchant turned politician named Adrea Gritti.
The story of the siege of Padua is brimming with untold feats of heroism, it’s marked with stories of valor and cunning ferocity. The rosters of the French and German knights that came to take part in the siege was a veritable who’s–who of the aristocratic profession, virtually every great knight on the continent stood before the walls of the city. Yet Padua isn’t known as a great triumph of Chivalric honor, no it’s the final resting place of the logos, ethos and pathos that comprised the tradition. If you ever wondered how the principles of Knightly virtue died, tune in to this heart pounding episode of l’Arte Dell Armi and find out.
Purlepaus, Weckauf, und Haupstück Der Leo pounded.
Crossbow bolts caremed off armor in the breach.
Hoofbeats thundered in the outskirts of the city.
Snapped the flags of ten thousand great houses.
Marched the feet of the defenders on the ramparts.
Beat the worried hand of a mother on her infants back.
Bounced the heel of an elderly man worried about his shop.
Beat the hearts those who watched the siege unfold.
the flower of Chivalry wilted and died.