Roy’s army finally mobilized one month after the king received the news of the duke’s insurrection. The knights and soldiers marched down the main street of Wienne in long columns, as a crowd of civilians thronged the sides of the road to proudly see them off. The squires followed at the rear of the columns, accompanying the supply train. Unlike the knights who stared straight ahead, their faces stern, the boys goggled at the procession and trailed along nervously.
“L-Look at how big the army is,” one boy breathed. “We’re only one small part of it.”
“And this isn’t the full army,” his friend told him. “There are more troops camped outside Wienne on the plains, and as we head for the duchy, we’ll join up with even more reinforcements—soldiers camped in forts along the way, noblemen’s troops, and such. This army’s only getting bigger from here.”
“Wow!”
This was a whole new world to the squires, whose only military experience thus far came from patrolling the city.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the column, Queen recounted the story of the other night to Gormus.
“What?” Gormus said. “You’re telling me that Heath came to your window?”
“Yeah.” In some ways, it still felt like a dream; if anything, it felt more dreamlike as time went on. However, he really had met her that night. Probably. Yeah, definitely.
“Huh...” said Gormus. “What’d you guys talk about?”
Queen shivered and tripped over absolutely nothing in the roadway.
“You good?” Gormus asked.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay.” Queen’s cheeks turned a brilliant red. Since Gormus asked, he’d have to confess that she asked him to marry her, but it was so shocking he didn’t know if Gormus would believe it. Heck, he barely believed it.
Gormus gave Queen a sidelong glance and said, “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard to say. At any rate, I’m guessing whatever it was isn’t anything I need to worry about.”
Well, that was certainly true. Fie looked healthy, and she hadn’t said anything bad to Queen. Honestly, forget bad—what she said was amazing. Yet maybe the sheer suddenness of the request was cause for concern.
Marrying Fie... he mused. He couldn’t realistically picture that at all. However, in his wildest dreams, Fie looked absolutely heavenly in a white wedding dress.
Roy’s army left Wienne, united with the main forces camped out on the plains, and turned north. Orstoll was a large country, but, situated as it was in the temperate center of the continent, the climate changed little as they moved northward. The vegetation likewise remained the same, with plenty of the broad-leafed trees and grasses familiar to these warm lands.
Roy’s army came to a halt near a peaceful forest just outside of the duke’s duchy. The long march had gone off without a hitch.
“It feels like we’re exchanging love letters...” Crow sighed, propping himself up on one elbow as he sat at a table in the commander’s tent. Originally planning to participate in the fighting as the leader of a squadron, Crow was now assigned to be the commanding officer of his family’s troops, which led to him being here.
“I want to avoid pointless combat if it’s in any way possible,” Roy said. His army far outnumbered the duke’s, and in light of the proof Roy obtained pertaining to the duke’s crimes, the duke had almost negligible public support. His sole allies were likewise corrupt lords or those whose circumstances had forced their hands into pledging temporary support.
One example of this latter group was the noble families that governed this stretch of land, known as Arkhorn. Their situation was simple—they were situated too close to the duchy for comfort. Regardless of their desire or lack thereof to be affiliated with the duke, resisting him while existing just under his nose would have invited attack and subsequent destruction. Thus, they swore their fealty to the duke and barricaded themselves in their own fortresses. However, even though they wanted to avoid their imminent demise courtesy of the duke, they had no desire to be crushed in rebellion against the royal army either, which they proved by allowing Roy’s forces safe passage over their land. Many nobles in the area surrounding the duchy behaved similarly, and as such Roy’s side came to a mass consensus to shift their goal from outright victory to merely mitigating damages.
Considering their strength, it would have taken less than two days to storm these fortresses before they fell, yet to do so would be to sacrifice the lives of the besieging soldiers and turn the opinion of the other nobility still sequestered away in their own forts. Instead, Roy opted to work out agreements with the lords of Arkhorn. To do so required displaying the strength of his force to the sequestered lords by marching his army outside their forts before sending letters with terms for surrender. Of course, such a slowdown could have been in the duke’s favor, and Roy did not trust him to not launch a desperate surprise attack. Therefore, Roy did not neglect to guard the supply lines and post sentries in the surrounding area.
It had already been three days since the talks had begun, and, like Crow said, the war effort now more resembled writing love letters to the nobles than actual fighting. They discussed the terms for surrender, the process of liberating the forts, and the promises to be upheld by both parties in this arrangement. As these nobles were, at least nominally, allied with the duke, Roy could not let them off scot-free, but he was likewise averse to punishing them too heavily. Moderation, he thought, was vital. However, nothing was more vital than earning their trust. Roy needed them to trust that their mutual promises would be observed and that he would punish them no more than they deserved. In that sense, it really was like an exchange of letters between two lovers.
“Why do we have to treat with a bunch of dreary old men?” Crow said with a disgusted shake of the head. “Speak for yourself, but I’d rather talk terms with a pretty gal.”
Despite his whining, Crow could not protest this plan of action. He was an affable man, with plenty of friends in both the knighthood and the army, and while he did not fear losing his life in battle, he was loath to see any of his friends die without just cause. Thus, Roy and Crow had no choice but to continue their paper negotiations.