In other words, the typical guns of this world had poor accuracy over long distances. If memory served, the matchlocks of my previous world had needed to be fired from around thirty meters or less if one wanted to be sure of their aim. The sudums likely had a similar effective range. And as luck would happen to have it, that was just about the range the imperial guard could cover for me.
As a final point of note, even if my Custor failed to stop the bullet dead, I could always be stabilized with healing magic, so long as I didn’t die from the initial wound. Being the emperor put me at the top of the priority list for treatment.
Salomon de Barbetorte, who was nearby, appeared to have picked up on my exchange with Timona. “Shall I urge them to make haste?” he asked.
Although Salomon was accompanying us, he was, strictly speaking, a member of the Belvérian royal family, rather than of the imperial army. The Kingdom of Belvére was a small country whose geographic position forced it into frequent conflict with its neighbor. It was also the homeland of my betrothed, Rosaria.
“No need,” I said. “We entrusted all marching particulars to Deputy General Bourgault-Ducoudray. We take no issue with his command.”
Salomon, who was here in the Empire as part of the support the Kingdom of Belvére had provided, had brought with him a unit of fifty or so mages. While you might initially think them insignificant due to their number, mages were rare to begin with, much less a unit of fifty of them. In addition, Salomon’s mages were the cream of the crop—watching them operate clearly illustrated the difference between a well-oiled mage unit and a simple group of soldiers with a passing grasp of magic. They even had live combat experience, won during their time fighting for Belvére. Paired with Salomon in command, they represented a vital military asset for us.
Having said that, it would’ve been a waste for a commander of Salomon’s talents to only oversee a unit of fifty, so I planned on giving him another one hundred and fifty soldiers to command once we reached Chelán Hill. These would consist of the magic-capable individuals we’d discovered while recruiting laborers or conscripting soldiers. Most of them couldn’t manage anything fancy or powerful, so we’d only taught them a few simple spells. Of course, by “we,” I meant Salomon, who’d been in charge of their training.
These one hundred and fifty mages weren’t actually a part of our traveling column. Since we’d prioritized teaching them magic, they hadn’t undergone any military training, and since we couldn’t delay all of our plans just for them, they’d be departing the capital at a later date, as part of the final column headed for Chelán Hill. As long as they could make it by the day of the battle, we’d probably be able to manage. Incidentally, they’d be under a heavier watch than usual as they traveled, to prevent any from deserting.
“Besides,” I said. “If you were to go, who would maintain our barrier?”
Salomon also knew that I was capable of magic, something I wished to keep a secret as much as possible. That was why, during this march, we were passing off all of my spellcasting as his.
Why hide it, you ask? Simple. If, for example, another country were to send a mage assassin after me, they’d send someone more powerful than I was if they knew I was capable of magic. But if they didn’t know, chances were they’d send someone more expendable. After all, training a highly capable mage took time and money—especially if you planned to utilize them as an assassin.
In that regard, I was extremely grateful that the Kingdom of Belvére had sent us such precious assets.
“We’re moving,” Timona reported.
It seemed the water break was over. Timona led my mount forward by the reins, in step with the imperial guard around me. We had brought them out of the imperial desmesne to serve as my personal guard escort. Led by their commander, Balthazar Chevillard, from the front, they were roughly a hundred in number.
The primary purpose of the imperial guard was to safeguard the emperor, so you might wonder why there were only a hundred of them. Well, that was because during the span of years when I had still been a puppet, they had been hollowed out and left to rot. The imperial guard had become a tool for the nobility to add to their prestige, and positions had been sold to blue-blooded heirs who couldn’t protect a sack of grain from a mouse.
Of course, the Chancellor and his cronies selling the positions had realized that it would be a massive issue if, in the unlikely event I was attacked, all of my guards froze up like the pack of incompetents they were, so they had tossed a few actual seasoned soldiers into the mix as well. These were the ones we’d brought along to be my guard escort.
So while their numbers weren’t particularly impressive, I could at least count on them to know their way around a fight.
Our host continued along the highway, taking frequent breaks as we advanced. At Chelán Hill, we would meet and engage the army of the Chancellor’s son, who had assumed the title of Duke Raul. That said, we wouldn’t be making the journey in a single day, but rather over several, either lodging for the night at settlements along the way or camping under the stars. Apparently, the whole thing had been planned out, so the towns and cities we’d be staying in knew we’d be coming.
As we marched, I simply sat atop my horse and let Timona lead it along. I was making a conscious effort to do nothing. After all, I had entrusted command of this march to Joel de Bourgault-Ducoudray.
Make no mistake, though—this was very much the emperor’s host. The moment I gave any command, I knew Deputy General Bourgault-Ducoudray would do his best to consider it, if not obey it outright. I also knew that if I did that, we might as well toss the entire concept of a chain of command out the window. I could not even begin to count the number of historical examples I knew of royalty sticking their amateur noses into military affairs and achieving nothing but sowing confusion. Hence the impression I was doing of an insensate block of wood, devoid of any desires.
“Your Majesty!” A horseman approached from farther up the column.
“Balthazar,” I said. “Are you certain you should be leaving your command?”
“It should be no issue, Your Majesty,” assured Balthazar, battalion commander of the imperial guard, as he deftly steered his mount to my side. “The guard are well trained enough to maintain formation without me breathing down their—” He paused, clearing his throat. “Without me there to lead them,” he finished.
“Did something happen, then?”
“A number of farmers have gathered farther up the highway—they’re hoping to catch a glimpse of you, Your Majesty. Should we get them to bugger o—” Balthazar interrupted himself again. “Should we shepherd them away?”
Ah. Hmm. “Leave them be,” I decided. “They’ll be of no hindrance to us.”
The citizens of the imperial capital had, for the time being, welcomed me as their ruler. Some of that sentiment had probably trickled out to the farmers in the region, but even if it hadn’t, it wasn’t like I was about to walk into a group of bloodthirsty killers. In the highly unlikely event they did attack, I had more than enough protection to fend off a small group, and in all probability, they likely just wanted to see something rare. It was no skin off my back to be the panda at the zoo for them as we marched past.