The next few days were hectic. Heralds spread out across the kingdom carrying news of goblin arrival within the nation’s borders. Some people remained skeptical, whispering in the taverns over mugs of ale. It’s been decades since these creatures have last attempted to invade human civilization, though by now everyone knew about the war in the Elven kingdoms. For most, the evidence was clear.

  New rumors started to surface. Other groups spotted hordes of green creatures spreading throughout the Northwestern wilderness of the country, though it was difficult to tell which ones were true and which ones were simply the bragging of drunk adventurers who fled from the chaos.

  Varre sent out a call to arms, ordering all of his nobility to gather in Amesbury. They were to appear as soon as able, armed, horsed, and bringing their own levies, just as their oaths of fealty demanded.

  The expectations differed based on their status. Poorer knights were merely expected to maintain their own armor, bringing just a couple of mounted manservants and a couple spearmen drafted from their peasants. Wealthier lords and barons brought entire teams of knights, ready to serve under their liege’s command.

  There weren’t many dukes left, as most were Varre’s relatives who perished together with his predecessor, but each was expected to bring an army. Their oaths stipulated hundreds of armed men. The counts weren’t quite as impressive, but their forces often numbered in the triple digits as well.

  Many would bring more than required. This was an excellent opportunity to show off in front of their peers. Powerful nobles could flaunt their wealth by hiring mercenaries, adventurers, and mobilizing thousands of serfs to follow them into battle. Poorer ones could show off their expensive armor and skills.

  Participating in a war such as this one was seen as a great honor. The ancestors who fought against the previous goblin invasions were all considered heroes and greatly respected. Every young noble still remembered listening to stories of their deeds during rainy evenings. With any luck, a new generation could enter the annals of history and be remembered for decades to come.

  There were also more mundane reasons to join. The heralds made sure to announce that King Varre himself would lead this combat action. All who wished to curry his favor, or to make up for siding with one of the rebels during the civil war, now had a chance to get noticed. Even regular knights, who would fight on the frontlines, could impress someone important.

  If the brutality of the previous invasion was to be believed, the casualties would be high. The war carried risks, but many young warriors were hungry enough for glory to accept. Once the war was over, the ones who proved themselves could hope for promotions, either to the illustrious Royal Guard, or to take over the estates of their fallen liege lords.

  The crown made sure to spread word about the risk of the coming war across the entire country well in advance. Many people decided to refurbish their armor and equipment ahead of time. Those that didn’t, crowded the kingdom’s blacksmiths. Forges all over Logres worked deep into each night, trying to get everyone ready in time and widening belts for their lords’ growing stomachs. Fortunately the long days at the end of summer helped with providing enough light.

  The Royal Army spent these last moments on preparations of their own. By now, every soldier was armed with a halberd and some sort of armor.

  Chainmail was expensive, though the sheer quantity of orders placed lowered the prices significantly. Much of the cost came from the labor required, as the smith had to carefully connect hundreds of individual rings in order to create a full suit. As the work mounted, they were often forced to hire additional apprentices.

  By now the availability of iron in the kingdom was becoming a new problem. Mines worked at their full capacity and merchants sailed to distant lands in search of the material.

  Despite these issues, Duke Jan managed to arrange over one and a half thousand suits. They were the property of the crown, so it was his decision as to which soldiers would receive them. As there was no more time to wait, the ranks in the back of each formation would have to make do with gambesons alone.

  This would be adjusted over the course of the campaign. Smiths would continue to work and deliver new suits, though many would be used to replace the ones lost. The soldiers would return their equipment after each battle, so Jan could ensure that those sent to guard duty or other special tasks would always receive some protection.

  Casualties were inevitable, so as long as their mail shirts could be reused, they would. With time, the overall defenses of the army were likely to grow, even as their numbers fell. It was an imperfect solution, but the best that the general could come up with at short notice. At least there were enough helmets.

  Quartermasters arranged for wagons and filled them with tents, tools, and other supplies. Food would be handled by Head Merchant Lester, but the army already possessed a lot of other necessary items.

  The loss of the available manpower would slow down the construction of the wall around their encampment, but the work would be relegated to specialized masons. By now, most of the outer structures were surrounded by stone and the gates were being fitted with the portcullis. They still had to finish the last few yards of several sections and outfit them with merlons and other defenses.

  Only a single side of the old palisade remained. The section separating the camp from the river. It was decided that this should be left for next year. The quarries weren’t able to mine enough material in time and goblins weren’t known for their aquatic abilities anyway. Though they could theoretically march around the stone walls and attempt to assault the palisade directly, they’d only have a couple yards to work with. Not enough to maneuver any sizeable force around, or bring in siege engines.

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  Varre visited the army camp often. He needed to personally witness their progress, but he was satisfied. The men were doing the best they could.

  With all of the military matters proceeding on schedules, that only left the magical arts.

  The meeting with Kadmos went well. The king expected some pushback, or at least a hidden insult regarding the program to educate the commoners, but the archmage kept quiet. Perhaps he was secretly happy that this new generation of wizards would take many of the more tedious roles.

  He would personally join the front lines, something that surprised even Elvira. She was certain that he would stay behind, citing his position as head teacher of the young students at his academy as his excuse. He must have been really worried about the situation. A few of the more theoretically oriented guildmembers would stay behind instead to continue the schooling.

  The bulk of his mages would join the army. Not all at once. Many, including Kadmos, still had business to take care of in the capital. Fortunately for them, the army wasn’t planning to set out from Amesbury for another two weeks. Even after it left, joining it would be as easy as following the wagon train.

  Each additional wizard would be a powerful boost, so Varre readily accepted this compromise. The majority would be ready before the troops moved North and those who were still spread out across the nation, would join as soon as they were able. Each could be thought of as another wave of reinforcements to encourage the troops.

  It was when the king returned from this meeting, entering the throne room together with his Court Mage, that he found a surprise.

  Both of the twins were there, waiting for his return. Their presence on the battlefield was obvious. They were technically just apprentices, but their skills would still come in handy. What he did not expect to find though, was Zarkon, the old master healer who first cured his body of the deadly Soulkiller plague.

  Of course that’s not really what happened. The man saved by the healer was not the same Prince Varre, but a student from Earth. Fortunately, no one suspected any such treachery, but the presence of the man most closely involved with the current monarch’s appearance in this world was slightly disheveling.

  “Varre, your majesty,” Zarkon said bowing deeply, “it is a great honor to see you. Who could have known I’d have the privilege of working on the very man who’d become our illustrious monarch?”

  “We went to tell him about the campaign,” Perry explained, nervously playing with the hem of her skirt, “he is still our teacher, you know?”

  “Of course,” the king smiled reassuringly, “it is good to see you too, Zarkon.”

  The old healer clasped his hands. “The girls told me you’ve been doing well. I hope none of your symptoms have returned.”

  “No, I’ve been quite healthy,” Varre replied, still unsure of the purpose of this sudden visit.

  “Excellent. Have they been giving you any trouble?” Zarkon chuckled.

  “Perry and Jury?” the king gave them a look, “no, they’re both excellent wizards.”

  Elvira was familiar with the old man, though she was never really fond of him. She made no secret of the fact. She curiously stared at the exchange, wondering what business could have brought him here at such a critical time.

  “Good, that’s good,” the old healer repeated, satisfied by the monarch’s answer, “I heard that the goblins have finally decided to rear their ugly heads. And this time they are after our very own kingdom.”

  “It is true. I made sure to make that publicly known,” Varre replied, “are you worried about the situation?”

  “Yes, quite worried,” Zarkon nodded, “it is most serious, as you know. The fate of our kingdom, perhaps even this world as we know it depends on its outcome.”

  “The world as we know it?” the king raised an eyebrow, “I’m well aware of just how serious it is. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only who cares enough about it. This is the first time I’ve heard someone put it this seriously.”

  “Really?” the old healer looked him up and down carefully, “that is reassuring. I am very glad to hear it. In that case, perhaps you’ll be just as glad to hear this: I offer to join you. I will travel with your army and offer my services wherever I can. If you’ll have me that is.”

  “A healer renowned across the entire kingdom?” Varre asked rhetorically, “of course. We’ll need as many of you as we can get.”

  “Excellent,” Zarkon bowed, “I look forward to working with you yet again then.”

  Varre noticed that both of the twins breathed a sigh of relief. The wizard was their teacher after all. If he didn’t get his wish, it was likely he’d be furious at the girls. Perhaps he’d even revoke their apprentice status. They’d still have Elvira, but the loss of the opportunity to learn from such an expert would hurt their futures.

  The army finally set out from the capital on a rather auspicious day. The thirteenth of September. At least it wasn’t a Friday. Chancellor Anastasia had almost made it back to Westbridge by that point, but Varre couldn’t wait for her. He’d simply have to listen to whatever reports she had remotely, via his host of communication mages.

  Just as before, the soldiers gathered on the central plaza of the city. Most of the populace came out to wish luck to their heroes. Much of the local nobility stood at the front of the formation, right behind their monarch. Their armors glistened in the sun, and the banners gently fluttered in the wind.

  Though officially the call to arms told everyone to assemble in Amesbury, much of the aristocracy lived in the capital already. They were going to travel together with their king. Participating in the parade was already an important gesture that grew their prestige. Some of the nearby knights even chose to gather here rather than head North. No one wanted to miss this opportunity.

  Once the ceremony was over, the troops set off at a leisurely pace. There was no reason to rush. The nobility was given a two week deadline to assemble, so the army would need to spend a few days waiting in the city anyway. Might as well travel in comfort.

  They stopped at cities, where the soldiers and knighthood could acquire more supplies on the way. The organization had changed significantly since the days of the rebellion, with the core of the troops far more coordinated and centralized than before. Still, camp followers were just as important as ever.

  An ever growing horde of cooks, laundresses, tailors, and cobblers trailed after the troops. The soldiers received a hefty salary and were eager to spend it on services to improve their comfort. Most of the nobility brought their own servants to handle their needs, but everyone was ready to pay for some fresher food, or ale to warm themselves during the long nights.

  With each day, more and more nobility joined Varre’s host. Each brought plenty of levies with them. Much of the aristocracy that lived in the capital was high ranking, but their lands were often spread out across the kingdom. It would take additional time for their own peasants and loyal warriors to assemble, but their numbers steadily grew. By the time the army reached Amesbury, the peasants matched the Royal Army in quantity. Even if their quality was far below.

  The city was technically five days away, but in the end took six days of travel to reach their target. The walls came into view on September 19th, two days before the anniversary of Count Clement’s defeat and the end of his rebellion. The nobility gathering in the city would certainly be interested in celebrations before they leave for war.

  As the army marched towards the wide open gates Varre wondered about that significance. Was this a good sign for his army? He certainly hoped so.

  Now only the fighting remains.