The atmosphere in the council room has stabilized somewhat. Everyone was still agitated by the prospect of the upcoming war, but they have calmed enough to make reasonable plans.

  This was vital. Wars cannot be won with emotions alone, no matter how strong.

  “Alright. Our main enemy is Count Clement and his rebellion,” Varre began, while looking at the map at the center of the table, “where are his lands exactly?”

  “Out here,” Marna pointed to the Westernmost corners of the kingdom, “his lands are close the border with Langogne. He owns multiple villages there and the town of Quendon. And that’s where his main base of power is. Quendon castle.”

  The king studied the area carefully. “Do we know how many people support him?”

  The Steward grimaced. “Not yet. It will take time to investigate this in detail, but as I’ve said before, Clement is a cautious man. He wouldn’t have rebelled if he thought his odds were bad.”

  Chancellor Anastasia Clearwater cleared her throat. “We know that the people of Tresannes support him. At least enough of them to kick our herald out. That’s all the way here,” she pointed to the map, “at least a full day’s journey away from Quendon. I think we can assume that everything West of Tresannes is under enemy control.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hakon grit his teeth, “he isn’t the first man who tried to attack us. And he’ll fall just like every other one. We will crush him with the full might of our army.”

  “So if we assume that everyone from Tresannes to Quendon is on his side,” Varre looked at the triangular shaped province, squeezed between the coast and Langogne, “how big of an army will he have?”

  The captain squinted his eyes. “A few thousand rabble, and at best a couple hundred knights. But traitorous scum like that can never amount to a proper loyalist soldier. I’m sure the most valiant among them will side with us, when the time comes.”

  “Calm down Hakon,” the king urged, “I get that you’re pissed, but we have to strategize here.”

  The captain sighed. “You’re right, your majesty. Forgive me.”

  “Now tell me more about their army. And don’t try to sugarcoat it.”

  Hakon stood up. “Though I hate to admit it, the Westerners are good warriors. They did the brunt of the fighting during the last war with Langogne. King Mikkel brought forth his army to stop the invaders, but many battles were bloody. Thanks to his valiant efforts, the enemy was defeated and driven back.”

  “That’s why they love Mikkel so much,” Marna added, “and how Clement can play off of their emotions at this time.”

  Was there anything I could have done to stop this, Varre wondered, I always knew that my sudden ascension to the throne was suspicious, but I thought it was going to be fine. Perhaps I could have delivered a better speech, or sent out a better message with our heralds. He decided to voice these concerns.

  “I don’t think so, your majesty,” the Steward tried to cheer him up, “by the time our heralds got there, Fedlow already had them convinced.”

  “That snake,” Hakon clenched his fist, “he must be in cahoots with Langogne. They couldn’t beat Mikkel in a fair fight, so they resorted to underhanded tactics,” he closed his eyes, “but I thought Fedlow wouldn’t fall this low. He’s just a Langogne lackey now.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” the Chancellor argued, “everyone out West still hates them. And my spies in Langogne’s capital still haven’t reported anything suspicious. If they truly were planning a full scale invasion, we’d see some signs. The nobility would gossip. Blacksmiths would be busy refurbishing armaments. There’s been nothing like that yet.”

  That reminded Varre of something. “Didn’t Zarkon say that smiths out West are churning out weapons like crazy? It seems like they’ve been preparing for a while.”

  “That… sounds more like Clement,” Marna admitted, “he never acts unless he is ready. He must have been planning this rebellion for months.”

  “Alright, great,” the king said sarcastically, “so now we know what our enemy is planning. What about my army? How many vassals can I call for?”

  “The knights of Logres will answer the call!” Hakon yelled, but lowered his voice when he noticed Varre’s glaring at him, “Your majesty, the entire kingdom has sworn oaths of loyalty to you. Thousands of knights will support you in battle and destroy these rebels. Clement stands no chance whatsoever against our might.”

  “I’m not so sure about that either,” the Steward said awkwardly, “forgive me your majesty, I don’t want to insult you. But…”

  “Go on,” Varre urged her, “tell me.”

  Marna sighed. “Do you remember your coronation ceremony last week? We managed to invite a lot of powerful nobles to repeat their oaths of fealty. Perhaps many really will follow you, but… I’m not sure if all of them will.”

  “More treasonous bastards?” the captain raised an eyebrow.

  “What do you mean, Marna? Why do you say that?” the king asked.

  “Well, you are a fresh, young monarch. And… you’re not very well known, I’m afraid,” she clearly struggled to say these words, “while Clement has been making connections for decades. He has powerful friends all over the country. Plus the rumors…” she couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  “I understand,” Varre rubbed his temples, ”even if people won’t openly accuse me, secretly, they think I had something to do with the assassination.”

  The steward couldn’t say anything. She simply nodded and looked away.

  “Then we’ll just have to execute them too,” Hakon growled, “this way we can get rid of all ungrateful, disloyal subjects. The war will be bloody, but worth it in the end.”

  The king sat there in silence for a few moments, mulling things over. “I’m beginning to understand. No one wants to act on a rumor like this. No one will start a rebellion, or risk their own lives. But if the rebellion is already happening…”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “They’ll be forced to pick a side,” Anastasia Clearwater continued for him.

  “And many will pick Clement,” Elvira finished up.

  “That’s his plan,” Varre nodded, “he’s not strong enough to win on his own, but if he can start a civil war and split the country in half, he just might succeed.”

  “He tried to kill the entire dynasty at king Mikkel’s birthday,” Marna looked up with an epiphany, “he didn’t really care who would become the next monarch. In fact, he wanted to spark a succession crisis, between duke Charles and the other candidates.”

  “Everyone knew Charles and Mikkel despised each other,” the chancellor said, “if he was crowned, people would still rise up against him. Clement would simply support another heir. It was by pure coincidence that you managed to survive, but it didn’t even change his plan.”

  The table fell silent again. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together. The civil war seemed inevitable. It would consume the entire country and no one could be sure which side emerged victorious in the end.

  “It changed something though,” Lester finally broke the silence, “if this duke Charles was meant to be the scapegoat… then he wasn’t in on the plan,” everyone turned to look at the Head Merchant, “that means he doesn’t know yet. He isn’t ready for war. We can’t be sure which side he’ll choose yet.”

  “I think I know,” Anastasia smiled sadly, “it’s a good opportunity for him to take the throne. From his perspective, all he needs to do is side with Clement and overthrow ‘Varre the Tyrant’. He’ll be a hero if he wins.”

  “I knew we should have distributed your inheritance among the nobility,” Marna choked out. She hid her face in her palms, on the verge of crying, “I should have insisted! Now it’s too late. If we do it, everyone will see it as a desperate bribe. It won’t go down well. People will side with Clement!”

  “And what if they won’t have to choose a side?” the king asked.

  “What do you mean?” the Steward looked up.

  “Well, most people don’t want to fight wars right? If I call on them and force them to join my army, many will pick the other guy,” Varre paused, “what if I just don’t do that?”

  “Your majesty,” Hakon said slowly, “Clement alone will have several thousand men under his command. Even if we manage to increase the Royal Guard quickly, like you wanted, they won’t be enough. We need a real army.”

  The king smiled. “What if I don’t call on everyone then? What if the people who don’t want to fight, those who want to stay out of it, or those who are still on the fence about which side to support, can stay home?”

  “But how would we do that?” the captain raised his arms in exasperation, “when we call on our vassals, we can’t just pick and choose! We can’t just call on those who support us to fight, while those who support the other guy stay home! It will make us seem weak, just by trying!”

  “It will still split the nation apart,” Marna shook her head, “those who stay out of it, will be obvious traitors.”

  Varre confidently turned to his right. “Treasurer. How much money do I have in the vault again?”

  Johan Gruber stammered for a second, surprised by the sudden change of subject. “I-I-I believe it’s around 250 000 thalars, your majesty.”

  “That’s the hidden ace up my sleeve. I won’t call on my vassals to support me. I’ll hire them,” the king smirked.

  “Your majesty…” the Steward said slowly.

  “Do you mean to use mercenaries?” Hakon cocked his eyebrow.

  Varre nodded. “Indeed. I assume I can afford them.”

  “You certainly can,” the captain confirmed, “a mercenary earns around five gold a month. And though it pains me to say it, they are good warriors. Even a thousand men would make a big difference.”

  “That’s around 5 000 thalars a month. For each thousand you’d like to hire,” Lester quickly counted, “we have enough to last for four years of war at this rate.”

  “A little more than that,” the treasurer nodded to himself, “we will still be earning profits from the crownlands. Plus all of your other inheritance. I’m confident we could continue at this rate indefinitely.”

  “While helpful, hiring mercenaries will be seen as…” Hakon paused, “well it won’t be very good.”

  The king shrugged. “Better than forcing my people to die for me, won’t it?”

  “True,” Marna admitted, “but what the captain meant to say is that it could be seen as a bit of a tyrannical move. Using paid, foreign soldiers to oppress your own people…”

  “Do we not have mercenaries in Logres?” Varre asked.

  “Pardon?” the Steward was confused.

  “Well, if I can’t hire mercenaries from abroad, why not hire my own people?” the king offered.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Marna looked from one person to the next.

  “What if I offer salaries to all people who want to come fight for me?” Varre opened his arms, “let’s say the standard mercenary rate if they bring their own weapons, and a bit less if we need to arm them. Plus a higher salary for knights. Perhaps quadruple it, to twenty gold a month. I’m sure there’s many who need the cash and will happily fight for glory and wealth.”

  The months spent in this world had given him a good understanding of daily living expenses. Even if he was used to luxuries fit for a member of the royal family, he knew what prices to expect in the commoner taverns he loved to attend. A simple laborer earned five silver a day. A skilled one ten, which translated to about three gold a month. Even the poorest person could significantly raise their standard of living by joining up with Varre’s army. And after a few months of service, bring a lot of cash home.

  Hakon’s eyes widened. “That’s… never been done before.”

  “But it could work,” Elvira nodded to herself, “there’s plenty of people who could use the money.”

  “Even knights! I’m sure someone like Alastair would jump at the occasion of making twenty thalars a month. Not to mention finally getting the chance to get some real combat experience.” Lester said.

  “This way, I wouldn’t be calling in on the entire realm to fight a brutal civil war,” Varre explained, “I’d just be squashing a rebellion. And helping the impoverished people in my nation in the process. Across all levels of society.”

  “I think it’s worth a shot,” Marna smiled, “I don’t think people could complain about being forced into a civil war, if they’re just getting paid for it.”

  “Now captain,” the king turned to his left, “how many people do we really need?”

  “Commoners won’t be as good as real mercenaries,” Hakon quickly started estimating. In his excitement, he even forgot to use colorful language to show his disdain, “I’d say two, three thousand should be plenty. Especially if we can boost it with a few hundred knights.”

  “That would be somewhere around twenty, twenty five thousand thalars a month. Depending on the exact numbers and whether we’d need to pay for equipment,” Lester quickly counted.

  “With our current funds, we can keep such an army for close to a year. Probably a lot longer once the harvest comes in,” the Treasurer added.

  “And how long will it take to prepare them?” Varre inquired.

  “Normally, it’s a bad idea to march out during harvest season. Even just gathering troops could bring in a famine,” Hakon explained, “people need time to work their land. Especially knights, who want to stay home and manage their properties. But if we’re paying them for it,” he paused for a moment, “I’d say we can start calling for volunteers now. Only those with the ability to do so will come. The first people, those closest to the capital, can probably ready in a week or so. Those further out, in a couple more, maybe a month.”

  The Steward looked back to the map. “Clement will probably not expect this. His people will be staying home, harvesting crops as normal.”

  “While ours are gathering,” the king finished for her, “captain, we should probably spend this month training our volunteers shouldn’t we?”

  Hakon agreed. “We should move out as soon as the harvest season is over. Perhaps those who worked through it, should meet us in Banbury. The closest large city to Tresannes and the border of the rebellion.”

  “You have your orders,” Varre outstretched his arms, “Treasurer, get the money ready. Steward, spread the word. Captain, arrange the equipment, organize the men into a fighting force, and make sure Banbury will be a safe spot to launch from.”

  All the councilors bowed down to honor their monarch’s command. The king slowly looked at each one. The room was panicking just this morning, but now he saw some confident looks. The war wouldn’t be easy. He couldn’t even imagine just what he was getting himself into. But at least it wasn’t hopeless. There was a plan.

  Varre smiled. “Then let’s get to work. We have six more weeks before the army moves out. Let’s avenge Mikkel III and make these traitors pay!”

  Each side is acting against the other. The fog of war and the distance between the armies makes it easy to surprise your opponent.

  As the advisors pointed out, Clement is a cautious man. Even if Varre read him correctly and will manage to stop a full scale civil war, the count must have more plans in the works.