The next day started off in a familiar fashion. Varre was woken up early by his chamberlain, took a bath, and enjoyed a hearty breakfast. Though a perceptive observer could have noticed some changes.

  The first sign was that the outfit prepared for the monarch was a lot more practical than usual. The sleeves were simple and missing flounces. The pants were a bit thicker too.

  Next came the food itself. Even though the king always enjoyed a huge variety of delicious dishes, it was never quite this much. The two dozen or so plates barely fit on the massive dining table. Fresh vegetables and fruits dominated the field, but there was a massive quantity of cakes and deserts too. Varre couldn’t even hope to eat all of it, but the chefs were clearly determined to give him something to miss in the future.

  The final sign was the view outside the window. While there was always some movement on the castle courtyard, there were typically only a couple guards and servants out there at a time. Maybe a little more while important guests were arriving. Today however, the courtyard was packed with laborers, packing tons of supplies, tools, and even furniture into multiple carts.

  The king was leaving the capital today. Everything had to be prepared in advance, because no one knew exactly how long the war would last. Perhaps Count Clement would instantly surrender and Varre would be back before the month was over. Perhaps the war would devolve into a series of multiple year-long sieges, before the last rebellious castle finally fell. Perhaps, it would be somewhere in between.

  Either way, this would definitely be Varre’s longest time away from the castle so far. Which wasn’t saying much. He’s never even left the vicinity of Westbridge before. Not since his coronation, and not even since his original appearance in this body. Starting from today though, his world was about to get a lot bigger.

  Though the journey would be difficult, the monarch would travel in relative comfort. An entire team of servants would join him, taking care of his luxurious tent, fulfilling meals, and every other need he might have. Yet they couldn’t hope to match the amenities available in the castle. The closest alternative was for Varre to set up his headquarters within towns, or manors belonging to loyalist nobles. But this would not happen every night. Especially not after he reached the West.

  Over the last weeks Benjamin busied himself with the final preparations, splitting the servants into teams and distributing relevant tasks among them. Even then, he would never miss the chance to serve his liege breakfast.

  The chamberlain did permit himself one indulgence on the occasion. He joined Varre for the meal, something he would have never done before, no matter how much the king insisted. This time, he felt that the extraordinary circumstances allowed for such breach of protocol. He sat on the other side of the table, helping Varre finish the mountain of food.

  The silence was broken by an unexpected knock on the door. “Strange,” Benjamin said, “we still have another hour to get ready.”

  “It’s Elvira,” the visitor announced herself and after waiting for permission, entered the room.

  “Did something happen?” the chamberlain asked with a concerned tone. He’d spent weeks meticulously planning every minor detail of today’s preparations and this visit was definitely not a part of that.

  “No. Am I not allowed to visit my liege and wish him good luck before such a dangerous journey?” she smiled.

  “You’re part of his entourage,” Benjamin answered bluntly, “you can wish him luck as many times as you want on the road. What do you really want?”

  “Relax,” Varre reached his hand forward, “it’s fine. What is it Elvira?”

  The stress was clearly taking a toll on the chamberlain. He’s done a tremendous amount of work in preparation for today’s journey, just to maximize his monarch’s comfort. Though he managed to avoid speaking curtly to his liege so far, he was sometimes a little rude to other staff. Hopefully, he could get some more rest during the journey and return to his old, polite self.

  The Court Mage stepped closer and pulled out a small pouch from a pocket in her long dress. “I have a gift for you and I wanted to make sure as few people as possible saw it.”

  “What is it?” Varre asked curiously and opened it up.

  A small talisman, connected to a long golden chain fell out into his palm. It was an opaque blue stone, with strange symbols carved all over it.

  “It’s a protective amulet,” Elvira explained, “I’ve spent the last few weeks working on it and barely got it finished in time. I hope you won’t need it, but it might just save your life.”

  “Oh!” the king turned it over in his hand, trying to get a better look at it, “how does it work exactly?”

  The Court Mage put her arms behind her back as she began to explain, “you should put it around your neck and wear it under your clothes. If you can, keep it on when you are sleeping, but try to keep it hidden. If anyone fires off a magical attack at you, the talisman will create a temporary shield around you to deflect it.”

  “Whoa. That’s… pretty useful,” Varre answered, “how strong is it?”

  She scratched the back of her head. “It depends. Mostly on the strength of the offensive spell. It should last for a few hits from your average mage. But a strong enough wizard will overpower it.”

  “Like you?”

  “Like me,” she smiled again, “but it would still catch me off guard. I don’t normally put all of my power into every single spell. It’s inefficient. If I wanted to attack someone, I’d end up hitting them with a few regular strength attacks first. I’d either exhaust the amulet by then, or realize I was dealing with a shield and concentrate on breaking through it instead,” she paused, “it won’t make you immortal, but it will give you the time to react. Or call for help if an assassin attacks you while you’re asleep.”

  “Thank you Elvira,” Varre put the amulet around his neck, “it’s definitely useful. Can you make more of them?”

  “I can. As long as you give me another month to craft one,” she winked, “maybe a little less if that’s all I’d be doing.”

  “That’s a shame. I’d like to outfit all of my men with them, if possible. Or at least the Royal Guard. But I think your time is better spent elsewhere,” the king frowned.

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  “The materials weren’t exactly cheap either. But if you do end up exhausting that one, I’ll make a new one as soon as I can.”

  “Couldn’t you make one in advance? Better to have a spare. Hell, maybe I can even wear two at once,” Varre suggested.

  “At that point, it’d be easier to just make a bigger one,” Elvira shrugged, “but I’m afraid it would take even longer. And I need access to my lab. But I’ll look into it as soon as we return from the campaign.”

  “Are you ready to move out?”

  “Just about. I packed away as much inventory as I could, though some instruments are too delicate to survive this journey. I won’t be anywhere near as efficient as I could be here, but I’ll do my best,” she explained.

  “That’s all we can do at this point. Thanks for the amulet again,” Varre nodded to her and she responded with a deep bow.

  With both the breakfast and the surprise visit out of the way, the king could get started on the final step of his preparations. Putting on his plate armor.

  He needed Benjamin’s help as well as two other servants more experienced with dressing up the nobility. Fortunately, they would join the king on the road as well. Putting on plate armor was almost an art form in itself. The suit was a complicated, layered system of protection, developed and improved over centuries.

  It all began with Varre’s clothes. They were made of thick woolen cloth, strong enough to disperse energy from blunt attacks and prevent chafing at the same time. A long set of chain mail went on top, adding yet another layer of protection all the way down to his mid-thighs. It would stop arrows and sharp blades, but it was just the beginning. The neck and shoulders were reinforced with yet another layer of chainmail, before the servants started attaching the plates.

  First came the greaves. They went on his legs, adding a nigh impenetrable barrier of steel. They fully enclosed his legs, and the servants tied the front and back together with leather strips. A similar set of vambraces and pauldrons covered his arms and shoulders. Next came the gauntlets and sabatons. They weren’t fully metal, like the versions he was used to in video games. He had to wear regular leather gloves, while the gauntlets were an additional layer of steel on the outside of his hands. The palms had to rely on the gloves alone, but he was free to block with the top of his hand. The sabatons were similar. They acted more like an additional layer that went on top of the boots. After all, it was unlikely that anyone could stab him from beneath the ground.

  Finally, came the torso armor. The cuirass covered the front of his chest, while additional pieces of metal were tied to protect his back. Bands of metal were attached to the bottom of the chest piece, protecting his groin. Varre tried to knock against the steel with his gauntlet and could tell how strong and rigid it was. The armor smith had done an excellent job and it was reinforced to prevent dents and cave ins.

  Finally, he tried on the helmet. It had a plate protecting his eyes that could be raised or lowered. It would help against arrows, but he couldn’t deny it restricted his visibility. Even raised though, the tall, stiff edges of the helmet reduced his natural field of vision. He’d need to turn his head to notice threats coming from the sides even in the thick of battle. Fortunately, the king wasn’t supposed to fight alone. Even in the midst of combat, the honor guard was ready to protect his flanks.

  There were still some gaps in the armor of course. An experienced assassin, armed with a thin dagger could probably find them and stab Varre right into an exposed limb. Still, if they managed to somehow get there, avoiding the king’s attacks and getting to the weak spot, they almost deserved the kill. It was a nigh impossible feat in the thick of battle. Their best bet was to subdue Varre, hold him down, and then stab while he was defenseless. Of course, at that point it would make more sense to capture him and demand surrender. That could end the entire war.

  Once fully dressed, Varre attempted to walk around his bedroom. Though the suit was noticeably heavy, he could move freely. He tried jumping in place and did a few practice swings with his sword. He didn’t feel like a slow moving tank as some video games he used to play depicted. Though he had the protection of one.

  Even then, travelling long distances in this armor wouldn’t be very comfortable so the king didn’t plan on wearing it every day. He’d put it on before a battle, or when travelling close to enemy territory, but he could go with just the chainmail during regular travel. The enemy knights would be doing the exact same thing, so both sides would have to time to dress up before each battle. Ambushes were a bigger threat, but the scouts were there to prevent that. And even then, Varre wouldn’t be completely helpless with an incomplete suit.

  He was fully armored for the first day, in order to inspire his soldiers. Leaving the capital for war was a momentous event and the king needed to show he was treating it with the utmost respect. That’s why when he finally set out from the castle, his entire entourage was just as well armored.

  He led the way, riding on a magnificent stallion, flanked by a multitude of Royal Guards. His closest advisors were just behind him, followed by a horde of flag carriers, and instrument players. Then, came the wagon train. The royal entourage consisted of around twenty wagons to fit all of the equipment and supplies. And that was just the beginning.

  Varre led the group towards the main square of the city. Though it would have been faster for everyone to gather on the fields outside, ceremony was important. Fortunately, the army wagons didn’t need to participate in the parade and could head straight past the gates.

  The king saw the familiar sight of thousands of men and horses stationed in the plaza. He greeted the commanders and began leading the army outside of the city. All of the streets were lined with civilians. Such a spectacle was not an everyday occurrence and all of Westbridge would be talking about it for weeks afterwards.

  The civilians waved colorful handkerchiefs and pieces of cloth, wishing their monarch luck. Families of the soldiers were probably far more concerned with the safety of their own relatives, but Varre appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

  About an hour after he left the castle, the king finally rode his horse through one of the city gates. The drawbridge going over the moat was narrow, but it could still fit two riders going side by side. Or a single wagon. It could have been faster for the army to split into two forces and exit the city through two separate gates, but then the soldiers couldn’t enjoy the full scale of the parade. Their morale took precedence over efficiency, at least in this case.

  It took yet another hour before the last trooper crossed the drawbridge. The army was made of thousands of people as well as hundreds of wagons. It stretched for close to two miles and filled up most of the road. Fortunately, other travelers were willing to get out of the way and wait for the marching troops to pass. Seeing such a force was always a big event and entire villages would come out to watch the columns of soldiers.

  The march to Banbury would take about a week. The herald achieved it in three days, though he travelled on a specially bred horse. The army was slower, especially when it came to the wagons, though thanks to the road they could travel relatively quickly. Especially on cobblestone paths this close to the capital.

  The army would travel for about eight hours every day with two short breaks. Each night, they’d try to stop by a town if possible. The king and the commanders would rest at the local noble’s or mayor’s house, while the troops would stay among the citizenry. The people were obliged to offer shelter in their own homes. If the settlement was too small, the knights were prioritized, while the infantry slept in tents just outside the walls.

  Throughout the march, there was only one occasion were the army stayed outside of a city. The village they stopped at couldn’t hope to fit everyone. Even the knights barely fit inside the peasant houses. The army was stretched to such distances that, theoretically, some of the troops could spend the night in the next hamlet over. The only reason they didn’t was to keep up cohesion during travel.

  Finally, after about a long week of marching, the army reached Banbury. The stone walls were visible from a distance, welcoming the tired soldiers. Normally, marching for so long was a bad idea. The troops needed time to rest and recover. Fortunately, they were freshly drafted and could take an extended break here in exchange.

  The army would spend the next two days resupplying in the city before crossing the border into rebel territory. After that, they’d be at real risk of encountering enemy forces. They’d need to be more careful then.

  With the speed they were marching at, Count Clement barely had enough time to draft his own troops. Let alone train them. Still, he couldn’t allow Varre to march through this territory unopposed. Soon enough, the two would meet and resolve their differences in the only way left. On the field of battle.