The next day the army finally packed up, left the hamlet, and continued their journey to Westbridge. It wasn’t easy to transport two thousand captives, but fortunately the commanders didn’t expect to run into the enemy any time soon so the formation could be safely adjusted.

  Columns of prisoners were separated by rows of soldiers. Any riots or attempts to overpower the guards could be easily dealt with. Hundreds of reinforcements were available at a moment’s notice. Additionally, cavalry traveled along the sides of each formation. If some desperate peasant tried to flee into the woods, he wouldn’t get very far.

  Perhaps it was because of the well-designed formation, or perhaps because of the enemy’s low morale, but only minor incidents occurred on the road. A few unfortunate captives died due to their wounds, or got sick. A few others tried to complain too loudly and had to be pacified before any dangerous ideas could spread.

  Overall, even though moving so many prisoners at once was always dangerous, in the end it only ended up slowing the army a little bit.

  While they were originally supposed to arrive in Banbury by the evening, due to these small delays they only made it there at noon the day after. This wasn’t a big problem in the grand scheme of things.

  Though the army should have continued walking for at least another day or two to achieve the optimal speed, spending half a day in a safe city would be a good opportunity to reorganize everyone. The sergeants did their best of course, but the truth of the matter was that six hundred soldiers died in the final battle that ended Clement’s rebellion. Shifting troops and adjusting formations accordingly would take time.

  Fortunately it would be much easier in the city. Now, those with lingering wounds and injuries could be replaced by fresh men who stayed behind to guard Banbury. Even some of the city guard could now be requisitioned, as there was no more threat of an additional assault coming from the West. Their experience would be better served at the frontlines.

  Of course, while the tired and injured troops recuperated in the city, able bodied people were still needed to provide security. Especially with three thousand captives held in the city, brought here after the victories of the last month.

  Varre offered extensive salaries to any citizen willing to take up arms. Additionally, local knights recommended personally by Baron Gregory were contacted. They would be compensated if they sent some of their serfs here, to help guard the prisoners. Now that the harvest season was over, it would be a lucrative side business for any noble looking to earn some extra profit before the winter.

  So far, the situation seemed promising. The rebel captives who were already stationed in the city after the victories at Elstercross were fulfilling their tasks well. They worked hard at the city’s warehouses and attempts at escape were minimal.

  It made sense. After all, no one asked the peasants’ opinion before drafting them into Clement’s army. They simply followed their liege’s orders. Now that their lord was dead, someone else commanded them. They listened just as intently. Especially since they were paid. Though their salaries were course nowhere near as lucrative as those assigned to the real soldiers, they definitely helped.

  Unfortunately the Langogneans couldn’t be provided with the same opportunities. Even though most were serfs like any other, they couldn’t be trusted as easily. Especially not by the local civilians, who still remembered the devastation brought on by the previous war. These captives would have to be locked up, sleeping in emptied warehouses or isolated sections of the city. Luckily, there was enough grain to go around and feed them all.

  With the logistical issues sorted out, the soldiers could focus on resting. Local craftsmen refurbished their clothing and equipment. The troopers could also relax by finally sleeping indoors and enjoying some fresh food. All citizens were required to provide housing to traveling armies, and every sergeants saw fit to use that right. Fortunately it would just be for a couple of nights.

  As for Varre, he finally had an opportunity to communicate with the capital again. During the evening, he settled in a private room in the mayor’s mansion to discuss the latest events with his advisors.

  “How is the siege going?” he asked, staring at a suspended image of the nostalgic table in the Council Room. Though he once considered attending those meeting a chore, now that he’s seen war first hand, he longed for a return to those days again.

  “The city has been thoroughly encircled, your majesty,” Steward Marna explained, “Charles had to split his forces to cover each of the gates, but he managed it.”

  “Have you tried telling him about Clement’s alliance with Langogne? Perhaps that will change his mind,” the king suggested.

  “We have,” she nodded, “I sent out a herald as soon as Charles arrived, ordering us to surrender. I’m afraid he refused our message. He said he can’t trust us. Even if we weren’t lying, then it changed little. I’m sorry, your majesty, but he kept insulting you and said that even if Clement is a traitor, then you are still,” she lowered her voice, “a tyrant.”

  “Hmm… Perhaps we need to wait for independent reports to arrive. Those would be harder to dismiss. Of course I realize that by this point, it’s too late for him to just give up and go home,“ Varre mused, “what about the latest battle? Have you told him about Clement’s defeat?”

  “Yes. I sent another herald. But I’m afraid he refused to believe us again.”

  “Figured as much,” the king smirked, “do you think he’ll attempt an assault then?”

  “I do not, no,” she replied, “we’ve been monitoring their positions, your majesty. One of the Royal Guards, Marton, is in charge of that task, serving as a temporary leader of the defense. According to his latest report,” she leaned down, as if to skim through it on the table, “an assault wouldn’t be possible. Not with his numbers, and not with the moat in the way. Charles seems to be focusing on starving us out instead.”

  “We’re on the way,” Varre reassured her, “we will get there within ten days or so.”

  “Our stores will hold your majesty,” Treasurer Gruber cut-in, “together with the Head Merchant we sent our men to catalogue every granary across the city. We can last for three months without any rationing or even reductions to anyone’s living standards.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Of course,” Lester added, staying outside of the magical screen, “every day the siege continues is a massive problem for the city’s merchants. The sooner you relieve us the better.”

  “Understood,” the king nodded, “now, have you spoken with the Mages Guild perhaps? Will they assist in the defense?”

  “They won’t,” Marna grimaced, “Kadmos gave me a long winded answer about how the law prevents him from acting in civil wars.”

  “Same thing as last time,” Varre commented.

  “Unfortunately. Even if Charles ends up assaulting the walls, the guild will stay out of it,” the Steward explained.

  “Same with the adventurers?”

  “I’m afraid so, your majesty.”

  “Well, that’s pretty much what we expected. What about Charles’ forces?” the king asked, “anything you can tell us will help.”

  “Of course,” she reached down for another report, “our guards are carefully mapping the enemy’s camp. They are still building their fortifications, but we should be able to provide you with plenty of details by the time your army gets here.”

  “Very good,” Varre commended her, “do you have an estimate on their numbers?”

  “Seems to be around two and a half, three thousand,” she replied, “of course, a lot of the cavalry has dispersed to loot the countryside and some more supporters are arriving every day. But it’s a small trickle.”

  “We should be able to beat them then. What about your forces in the city?”

  “Well, we have fifty Royal Guards,” she explained, “they’re good, brave knights, but mostly fresh recruits as you know. And we can use the city guard as well. That’s another three hundred men or so.”

  “Not enough to turn the tide, but they will come in handy,” the king scratched his chin, “perhaps we can find some more volunteers, right before the battle.”

  “Perhaps,” she conceded, “maybe some of the knights in the city will agree to join us. Especially if they expect to get some lands from the traitors after the war. And I’m sure we can find some weapons, either from local blacksmiths, or perhaps from the local populace. If we offer some payment…”

  “Indeed, if anyone in the capital wanted to switch sides, I feel like they’d have done it by now. Or at least before the gates were locked. I doubt anyone still in Westbridge cares for Charles’ claim enough to risk their life during the siege. Most just want the war to be over by now.”

  “I’m sure that some people sympathize with him, but I think I agree,” Marna said, “some spies might be willing to stay under siege and work against us, but the Royal Guard is hunting them down. There certainly shouldn’t be enough of them to overpower us.”

  With the military matters out of the way, the meeting moved to some other minor details. Of course, with the delicate situation at hand and the lack of communication with the surrounded capital, running the kingdom became much more complicated. There were fewer topics to discuss than normal, and the meeting concluded early.

  The next day, once everyone had the chance to recover, the army set out on the road again. There were seven days of marching left until the army reached Westbridge. Of course, some time would need to be spend on resting, to maximize the troops effectiveness before the battle.

  Scouts travelled well ahead of the formation, both looking for good spots for rest, and making sure that the formation didn’t accidentally walk into an enemy ambush.

  Rather than focusing on speed, the commanders could now prioritize comfort and access to fresh supplies. They made sure to stop at large towns whenever possible, even if it meant ending the day’s trip a few hours earlier. If not, then at least at a particularly large village.

  It was during one of these stops, when Varre stayed in the guest room of some local official, when Captain Hakon decided to pay him a visit. Together with a slightly shaken Elvira.

  “Your majesty,” he began, “we finished interrogating that bastard.”

  “Bastard?” the king looked up from the report laid out on the desk in front of him, “you’ll need to be more specific Hakon, there’s quite a few of those running around.”

  “These are bad times indeed,” the captain joked, “I meant Tobias of course.”

  “That’s good! How did you…” Varre paused, “on second thought, I don’t think I want to know. What did you find out?”

  Hakon bowed. “Of course. I won’t go into details, but do not worry. He isn’t injured... Too badly,” he smiled again, while Elvira grimaced, “he finally told us what he was getting out of this deal.”

  “Right. I remember our discussion, back in Westbridge. You didn’t want to suspect him, because it seemed like he had nothing to gain from joining any plot against Mikkel. Was it an accident after all?”

  The captain turned serious. “No. It was no accident, your majesty. Tobias had been a key member of the conspiracy for years.”

  “So why did he do it then?” the king asked, “he was already a Court Mage. That’s the highest position a wizard could reach, second only to the Archmage of the guild himself, right?” Elvira confirmed his words with a nod, “and yet, he wasn’t trying to frame Kadmos as the real killer or anything like that. It seemed like he wasn’t trying to replace him.”

  “He wasn’t,” Hakon smirked again, “it was surprisingly simple really. Do you remember what Clement was after?”

  “Independence right? He wanted to create a new nation, together with that Duke Francois guy. So what? Did he want to serve as their Court Mage instead? That’s not much of a promotion.”

  “It isn’t, your majesty,” the witch agreed, “in fact, since Aubin would have been a smaller, poorer nation than Logres, Tobias wouldn’t have access to as many magical resources. But his ambitions were greater than that. He wanted to create his own Mage Guild out there!”

  Varre leaned back in his seat. “I’m sure Kadmos would like to hear about that!”

  Elvira clasped her hands. “Exactly! The one thing the old man absolutely can’t stand is someone trying to one-up him! I’m certain he’ll appreciate us bringing such a traitor too him!”

  “It looks like this effort will pay off in the end,” the king said, “good work both of you. Now make sure to keep him under careful watch, you hear?”

  The advisors nodded and left the room.

  Varre sighed and returned to his work. He spent most of his nights working alone, or with his closest advisors. He busied himself with tasks, trying to occupy his mind and not think about the results of the latest battle. It seemed to be working. Slowly, his mood was returning to normal. He was still avoiding Nilo, trying to give him some space, but at least he was accepting Clement’s fate. He hoped he never had to sully his own hands again, but it if it happened, he’d be ready.

  During the lengthy march, the army stopped to rest on the third day, at one of the larger towns. After spending an extra day there to recuperate, they continued without breaks to another town, three days further down the road.

  Here, the locals told stories about Charles’s troops. With Westbridge only a day away, some of their cavalry had visited the nearby villages, threatening and looting the locals for food and supplies. The peasants were still highly agitated and often reacted with panic whenever they saw Varre’s scouts. Likely expecting a repeat of the theft. Fortunately for them, the loyalists had an independent supply chain and didn’t want to impoverish their own lands.

  Regardless, with the enemy this close, the commanders decided to rest yet again. Charles’ men had spent the last two weeks besieging the capital. While building fortifications no doubt took some energy, it was still easier than marching. If the loyalists wanted the best chance they could get, they needed the rest.

  At this range, enemy scouts had already noticed Varre’s army and informed their leader about it. The pretender was already making new plans on how to defend himself from the loyalists.

  Still, there was no rush. Charles already spent weeks positioning his troops however he wanted. An extra day would change little in the grand scheme of things.

  Though Hakon made sure to send out some additional patrols around, on the lookout for the enemies, regular soldiers busied themselves with rest and relaxation. The final showdown to determine the fate of Logres was coming soon. Everything would be decided on the fields around Westbridge.

  Did the crown belong to Varre, a former student from Earth, who occupied the body of some dead noble? Or to Charles, a war hero, who fought against Logres’ rivals for years? The answer was getting closer every day.

  The Council meets to discuss the siege and some early negotiations with Charles.

  We learn more about Tobias' motives.

  What battle plans are both sides cooking up?

  Who will get to keep the throne? And who will be reduced to a mere footnote in the history books?