Varre’s army had a big advantage over Clement’s. The count had to wait until the end of the harvest season before he could even begin drafting his levy. As the king’s forces grew by the day, the rebellious troops kept working the land.

  The loyalist army used the time well. The troops trained and kept improving, turning from completely green recruits into something resembling a real fighting force.

  Even then, after all this time, their skill level was far from uniform. Most soldiers were commoners just old enough to swing a sword. Other folks came with some experience. Some were town guards seeking better employment, others were village thugs, used to drunken brawls, while a few were even veterans of previous conflicts. The smallest group were the trained retinues.

  Some of the nobles who joined Varre’s army as commanders brought in their own troops to help. They were either that dedicated to seeing Clement fall, wanted to impress the king with a tangible display of loyalty, or simply worried about leading untrained peasants into fierce battles. These experienced fighters made excellent additions to the sergeant corps.

  Around half of the volunteers came in the very beginning. The ones living close to Westbridge were ready within just a few days, but it took about two weeks since the initial recruitment call for those living in the farthest cities of the kingdom to arrive. These people got the most opportunity for training.

  The others slowly trickled in over the course of the harvest. As they finished up their work, some of the free peasants decided to join up in search of wealth and opportunity. Some of the townsfolk also needed more time to make their decision, or finish up their employment.

  A second, smaller force moved to Banbury instead. The city acted as the border between the loyalists and the rebels and would act as an important headquarters during the war. Hakon visited it several times, inspecting the walls and making some last minute changes to their security.

  Those living close to the border, often chose to come to Banbury instead. It was an easier, safer journey. This was also the last assembly point for those waiting until the very end of the harvest.

  Though Varre had ordered it before he even knew about the rebellion, the Royal Guard had continued to steadily grow its number. The captain managed to find forty excellent volunteers from knight families all over the country. Each received a fresh dose of elixir to help with their training. They had a long way to go before reaching the lofty standards required of the old guard and needed every boost they could get.

  It was decided that these trainees would stay behind to defend the capital. The nation was at war and security was paramount. A small force of ten veteran guards would remain as well. They would split their tasks between training the newbies and protecting the palace. The recruits on the other hand would handle the less critical tasks, such as standing guard at the city gates, or patrolling the streets. If anything happened out there, they could at least slow the enemy down until the veterans could arrive.

  The remaining fifty experienced guards would focus on protecting Varre. Even outside of battle, there would be an ever present threat to his life outside of Westbridge. A slimy traitor like Clement would have no qualms about striking the king through underhanded means. He’d already proven as much when he poisoned Mikkel and murdered most of the dynasty.

  During battle, Hakon’s force would serve as an honor guard for their monarch instead. Though some monarchs led from the front, joining the fray together with their soldiers, Varre wasn’t ready for that yet. Though already much stronger than a common trooper, he would struggle against an experienced knight. Or a mage. He still had a lot of training to go through before taking such risks would be worthwhile.

  Instead, the king would direct the battle from a safe distance. Captain Hakon assured him that this would not be seen as any sign of cowardice. Though historically, most Logres’ monarchs preferred to fight personally, he wouldn’t be the first to avoid the danger. Mikkel himself, did so in many battles. Even further than that, in some nations directing the combat from a nearby hill was seen as the optimal method. It allowed the commander a far better overview of the situation and let him react quickly.

  During each battle, the honor guard would remain at Varre’s side. They would ensure his safety, in case some small force managed to slip their way through the ranks, or decided to attack from behind. He could also deploy them in emergencies, bolstering a faltering flank, or to attempt some desperate maneuver.

  Elvira, as his loyal Court Mage, would also stay at his side. Though she’d no doubt cause much devastation to the enemy lines, she had to be ready to defend her liege from an unexpected magical assault. Besides, the few wizards that did join the army would already provide that advantage.

  On top of mages and the Royal Guard, Varre received a third and final security system. A full suit of plate armor.

  It wasn’t easy. It took the best armor smith in Westbridge an entire month, during which the king had to return for multiple measuring and fitting sessions. But it was worth it. The suit was comfortable, while still providing an impressive amount of protection.

  Varre hoped he wouldn’t need it any time soon, but he had Kerryn show off the armor’s strength during some training exercises. Together with the coach, they struck a similar piece of steel with multiple weapons and attacks, just to see the deflection at work. Even in his enhanced state, the king struggled to break through the armor with a regular sword. The mace and war hammer made it easier, but even then it took a massive amount of force. Far greater than a common soldier could hope to match. Though it wouldn’t stand up to every threat, it was a huge improvement.

  Normally, the armor smith had a waiting list of several months before he could create such a piece. Fortunately, as everyone repeated so often, the king waited for no one. Varre got pushed to the front of the list at the cost of the other nobles. Stil, even the most stuck up aristocrat imaginable couldn’t complain. Getting armor from the same smith who worked for the king, was a massive boost to one’s prestige.

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  All of this came at a cost, though fortunately one that Varre could afford. A couple hundred golden thalars was a staggering price to even a wealthy duke, but when it came to the monarch’s security, it was worth it. Though the price did come up during one of the council meetings.

  Treasurer Johan Gruber kept a careful count of all the expenses. “So far, the infantry received a salary of around 20 000 thalars. While the knights an additional 10 000. All of the extra equipment, weapons, travelling supplies, arming the expanded Royal Guards force, and yes, even that plate armor, came out to yet another 20 000. All in all, the preparations consumed 50 000 thalars. And that’s without considering everyday state expenses.”

  “Fortunately, with the end of the harvest season, the treasury will soon be bolstered by a huge influx of currency. While the money had only started to pour in,” Lester estimated, “the sales would generate as much as 300 000 thalars within the next months.”

  “Some of the food will be sent to the army,” Gruber continued, “but the lion’s share is to be sold. Currently, the treasury stands at an impressive 200 000. Though I’m afraid it’s about to begin falling. The infantry will require around 18 000 gold a month, with an additional 12 000 for the knights. That’s a monthly cost of around 30 000 to start with. Though it’s likely to decline as the war goes on and soldiers lose their lives.”

  “That’s a dark thought. I’m hoping to keep the casualties as low as possible,” Varre countered.

  “That’s an admirable sentiment your majesty, but I’m afraid that’s just how war is,” Marna smiled sadly, “even if we achieve nothing but crushing victories, people will still die from hunger and disease.”

  “I’m hoping that the steady deliveries of food will prevent starvation,” the king said.

  “Me too. I hope you are right, but I’m afraid that casualties are inevitable,” the steward lowered her gaze.

  “Oh yes, while we’re on the subject, I had another suggestion,” the Treasurer interrupted, “as you might know, there are other jobs that need to be done around the army. It’s not just marching and putting tents into the ground. Someone needs to cook meals, wash clothes, fix holes in boots, and gather firewood. Now, normally, such camp follower jobs are done by the soldiers’ families. Whenever Mikkel called for the levy, many peasants came forth with their wives and children, hoping to earn some additional cash. I’m afraid that our army is largely made up of young volunteers instead, hoping to earn a living. Most came alone, though admittedly some did bring families.”

  “I take it we need to hire specialists then?” Varre raised an eyebrow.

  “Not necessarily, your majesty,” Gruber explained, “if we wait long enough, they’ll appear by themselves. Soldiers will need someone to care for them, and where there are customers, someone will come to serve them, as I’m sure my friend will attest,” Lester confirmed by nodding, “but of course, if we hire some people directly, it would help. Especially when it comes to herbalists, doctors, and the like. It’s not exactly normal, but few things about our army are,” he joked.

  “How much would it cost?”

  “Another thousand thalars a month would make a big difference,” the Treasurer glanced at the Head Merchant and he nodded again.

  “Look. If I can save my people’s lives at the cost of a little cash, then let’s do it. I’m not some miser who will waste good people just to save a coin or two,” Varre answered and noticed Elvira smiling at him in the corner of his eye.

  “Very well, your majesty. It will be done,” Gruber bowed and noted it down.

  -*-*-*-

  Everyone worked as hard as they could to prepare for the coming war, but time was limited. And so, on August 9th, the eve of the march had finally arrived.

  In preparation for this momentous event, the entire army was assembled on the city square. They could barely fit. Even in a tight formation, the sheer amount of men and horses crowded the entire plaza. Thousands of civilians came out to wish the soldiers good luck. They filled out the surrounding streets and leaned out of every window.

  Varre was to give a speech from the town hall’s grand balcony. It was designed for situations just like this one. Though the castle was monumental, it was primarily a defensive structure and some of the grandeur was lost in favor of defense. A speech addressing a massive crowd would always look better from here.

  After a ceremonial introduction by a royal herald, the king finally stepped out onto the balcony. He watched the crowds of gathered people and couldn’t even estimate how many civilians came out to see him. Fortunately, he didn’t have to do that for the soldiers. He’s seen the detailed reports hundreds of times by now and carefully watched as the numbers climbed.

  A full three and a half thousand infantry stood below him. Split into seven squares of five hundred men each, it reminded him of a concert. Though on Earth, he’s only ever seen them from the audience’s side before.

  On top of that, five hundred knights watched him, sitting on massive horses. Unlike the mostly unadorned infantry, each cavalryman proudly bore the symbols and colors of his house. To Varre, it even seemed slightly amusing. Many chose ceremonial outfits for the day, wearing ridiculous plumed helmets, and massive oversized flags attached to their horses. Though he understood the significance of the symbols, they seemed almost out of place compared to the drab infantry.

  After watching them for a few moments and waiting for the cheers to pipe down, the king finally began his speech. “People of Logres! I am overjoyed to see you come out in force tonight,” he waited for the applause to end, “every one of you is a true hero, willing to fight for the sake of honor and justice.”

  The speech wasn’t easy to write. Varre had to satisfy the main corps of nobility, while motivating the commoner infantry at the same time. “Count Clement, that vile traitor, slaughtered your beloved king Mikkel. Hero of the Langogne war! That bastard didn’t care about Mikkel’s deeds, he didn’t care that Mikkel saved Clement’s own home! He wanted power! And was willing to murder his own savior during a peaceful celebration. A birthday dinner.

  “And now, that treasonous snake wants to take over the entire kingdom?!” he paused for jeers, “your homes?! And if he succeeds, do you think he’ll appreciate his supporters? Do you think he’ll protect the people who fight for him? No! He was willing to kill our hero! And his entire family!

  “Now, it would be one thing to best Mikkel in the field of battle. But no. That traitor poisoned my uncle, because he knew that he stood no chance in a fair fight. Unfortunately for him, he made a mistake. He didn’t kill me. And now, we will punish him with the very thing he so hoped to avoid! A fair fight!

  “Tonight, we rest. You’ve earned it. You’ve spent these last few weeks training and preparing to beat that bastard back where he belongs! Tomorrow, we ride out. We will destroy that traitor, and show him what happens to people who mess with our homes! Onwards, to victory!”

  A resounding wave of cheers responded from the crowd. Varre wasn’t sure how much of it was genuine and how much of it was enforced by the sergeants, but he did the best he could. He remained standing on the balcony for a few moments, waving to his people, before returning inside.

  He needed to get some rest too. He’s worked hard for these last few weeks, understanding that every minute spent preparing for war could be the difference between victory and defeat. Now, he was officially out of time. And though he hated it, he knew there’d be little time to relax on the road.

  Tomorrow, the army would move out. And there’d be no more turning back.

  Let's find out!