Chapter 5
Albion port city of Norwich: POV (Michael)
The battle for Norwich city went far smoother than Michael could have ever anticipated; he simply overestimated the resistance that the city could actually mount, but in truth he didn’t really know what to expect, which was the main reason he trained his men so intensely back at their former camp. While it was nonetheless a good investment, he still thought it funny how well his men performed; he ended up liking it to a comparison between Special Forces and cub scouts, no real challenge.
Upon arriving at the port, Michael and friends offloaded themselves and their equipment and staged it all in an unused warehouse. His men then dropped their packs, formed up into their platoons, and then got their orders from Michael. The mages stayed behind to watch the equipment and the soldiers then set out to basically strong-arm the city out from under the noble’s hold and into Michael’s welcoming arms. The plan was simple; two platoons were to encircle the city by traveling along opposite sides all the while crushing any resistance, a third platoon was tasked to do the same thing except it was to go up the middle, while this was happening a fourth platoon was to capture the cities garrison headquarters and if possible the noble who was most likely commanding it. Meanwhile Michael took the final platoon, which ironically was 1st platoon, and set out to capture the small governors’ palace which also acted as the cities’ administration building as well as the governor’s actual home.
The endeavor turned out to be pitifully easy; Michael had expect the city defenders to at least be the equivalent of a national guard, instead they ended up being a hastily recruited militia force who were only a part of said force for the same reason someone would be a garbage man, because it was a paying job. Morale was so low for the defenders that in over ninety percent of instances as soon as they saw the groups of well-coordinated uniformed men come at them yelling to drop their weapons whilst pointing what appeared to be muskets at them, that they just automatically obeyed, and when they did the unknown soldiers just told them to go home, which the militia men gladly did. There were a rare few instances in which the city guards actually tried to do their jobs, but a quick demonstration of how badly outclassed they were in terms of weaponry resulting in one of their own being killed easily fixed that.
The reason for this lack of morale was as simple as it was obvious, the civil war; Norwich was the last port city that the royalists still possessed on the east coast, it and the small province it was located in, to include Newcastle, was in fact all the territory they still had in the south, the rest, and majority, of the royalists were all up in the mountainous northern region of Albion slowly being overwhelmed and pushed back by the Reconquista. At the time of Michael’s incursion the royalists had pulled all their forces, to include the cities actual trained defenders, up to the provincial boarder in a last ditch attempt to hold the Reconquista a bay, leaving the city to be run and protected by a few token nobles and a bunch of scraped together commoners who were given left over weapons and uniforms and told to maintain order. Hell, there wasn’t even a full garrison, not enough weapons available to equip them.
So as one can see, it was understandable why Michael was so surprised at how easily the city was subdued, the only actual threat it would turnout, were the inhabiting aristocrats that were encountered. As the platoons made their way through the city they occasionally ran into the local nobility, since the city guardsmen turned out to be a joke the riflemen quickly shifted their attention to hunting mages. For the most part it was simple shock and awe; Michael’s men would shout for the nobles not to move and quickly rush them while they were stunned by the sheer audacity of the manner in which they were addressed, then they were all manhandled as anything that could be used as a wand was ‘confiscated’, their hands bound behind their backs, and their mouths gagged. They were then smacked up a bit and told that if they didn’t cooperate they would suffer harsh consequences.
Once restrained, the nobles were then grouped together and once enough of them were gathered they were led by one of the platoon’s squads back to the warehouse headquarters to be offloaded to the waiting revolution mages to be processed. The thought behind this was that the nobles would be slightly more cooperative if they were being handled by other mages instead of simple commoners, it was somewhat successful. After the squad had dropped off their charges it would then rush back to its platoon and the process would start all over again. This of course slowed the progress of the various platoons, but it insured that nothing got past the ‘net’.
There were of course instances of conflict with the aristocrats; a small number of them managed not to be stupefied and actually drew their wands and unleashed a spell at the insolent commoner whom dared to address them with such blatant disrespect, or they were the ridiculously few who managed to see the uniformed men for the threat they were and simply attacked in self-defense like a normal person. Regardless of the reason, those who resisted didn’t put up enough of a fight to save themselves for all the same reason; they thought that a simple display of their magical ability would be enough to cow the threatening plebeians, and thus were unprepared for when those who weren’t caught in the spell’s attack raised their musket looking weapons and gunned them down or wounded them to the point of not being able to resist instead of simply running away or groveling.
In the end the Revolutionary forces managed to clear the entire city in an afternoon, with the only noteworthy battle taking place at the governor’s palace. Michael led his platoon straight to the palace easily scattering the paltry few guardsmen along the way and rounding up the random nobles in his way. When he got within throwing distance of the palace outer walls he had one of his squads take the captured aristocrats back to the warehouse, when that squad returned they all attacked. It would turnout that the only real soldiers in the city were the governor’s own bodyguards which numbered around thirty. When Michael’s attack came it appeared that the governor had heard of the incursion of strange uniformed men filtering through the city and capturing it because around ten of his men were stationed at the defense wall directing the other palace guards.
Armed with bows and a few throwing spears, the wall defenders were unable to stop Michael’s rifle armed men who had superior range and accuracy and soon his men were blowing the gates wide open with grenades after picking off all the defenders. Once inside, Michael had all his men switch to using their pistol side arms which also used armor piercing bullets to combat the palace guards and governor bodyguards. The whole battle played out like a slightly larger scaled version of the Count Mott manor assault; the staff would run while all the opposing guards would be quickly gunned down, it almost seemed to be a total repeat. Then they got to the governor’s pseudo throne room; this noble was a fire mage and was ready for the intruders.
As soon as Michael and his men burst through the doors they found themselves entering a reception hall, and standing at the other end was the governor and his remaining ten bodyguards. His expression was one of enragement and chubbiness which combined to give the appearance of a fat child who was getting ready to through a temper tantrum because he was told ‘no desert’. Michael strode forth with his men flanking him with a defiant smile on his face; this was clearly the last straw as the governor roared and lifted his staff and shot a powerful flamethrower at the revolutionaries forcing them to all take cover behind the numerous support columns throughout the large room. As the governor let out his attack he also spouted all manner of self-righteous rhetoric and derogatory insults all aimed at commoners and how pathetic they were, the insults were so bad and specific that they actually managed to sound racist somehow.
While the governor was spitting invectives and trying to burn Michael’s men, his bodyguards decided to use the opportunity to cut down the offending intruders, however, they never got the chance; as soon as they got close they were gunned down. Seven bodyguards were shot, three by Michael himself, before the rest took cover, cowering behind pillars of their own. Upon seeing his men hiding, the governor turned purple in rage and was about to threaten and chastise, but he never got to utter a word; a final and resounding ‘bang’ cut him off before he even could open his mouth, he fell with a hole in his temple, put their not by Michael this time, but by Sergeant Briek.
With the governor dead the last three bodyguards surrendered and the palace secured; hours later Michael began getting calls from the platoon sergeants reporting that they had completed their circuits with the platoon sent to capture the garrison headquarters reporting first, apparently the leader of the city garrison was one of the now former governor’s bodyguards. All city militia men had surrendered and gone home, or were killed and all the aristocrats had been apprehended or had likewise been shot and were currently being held by Michael’s own mages. Now with the city his Michael and Quinten began issuing orders to set up their administration in the palace and move the caught mages into proper holding cells for processing and then after that his mages were to set out installing large view screens similar to the ones used in the vid-phones only much bigger throughout the city in preparation for Michael’s first large scale broadcast.
The broadcast occurred the following afternoon; at first the people didn’t know what to think of the large moving images of the unknown individual who was claiming to be their liberator, but as the speech went on they soon began to agree with him, and by the end the entire city was taken by the revolutionary fervor. After the airing Michael was swamped by volunteers eager to join his army, he easily had far more than enough recruits to unload his five thousand premade units of equipment and weapons. Those who were able to be supplied were sent off to be given a two week training course in how to use them, as well as the absolute minimum combat training to go along with it. For the remaining trainees, of which there were seventy-five hundred, they were all divided up into twenty-five hundred man battalions and were to be given similar training until equipment production could catchup with demand.
By the second day after the takeover, Michael was able to get a better understanding of his holdings; the city had approximately thirty thousand inhabitants, of which he got around twelve thousand five hundred recruits to be organized into six battalions of twenty-five hundred. The city also had about three thousand nobles of varying rank, however nearly an eighth were killed in the overthrow leaving him with just under twenty-five hundred mages that need to be processed. These were of course not exact numbers, but Michael liked rounded numbers, also the number of captured nobles was going to drop during processing.
Processing of the mages was another thing that happened by the second day; sorted into five-hundred person and/or family groups, the now former nobles would have any records available be scrutinized and then every single adult noble would be labeled as either kill or fake kill. Then they would be marched out to the city square and put on ‘trial’, and then found guilty of various things that all basically said that being an aristocrat was evil and those who were labeled as kill would be beheaded, shot, or drawn and quartered. Those who were labeled as fake kill were hanged by the neck until they passed out and then cut down and quickly spirited away. As for the children however, that was left up to the audience, they would all live, it’s just that those who the people said to kill were just hanged like the others and then taken away and revived. For the rest, they would be reunited with any family they still had and then sent to re-education schools and taught why the revolution was a good thing.
After two weeks, Michael at last had soldiers to deploy thanks to the initial five thousand recruits completing their quickened training; on top of that his new mage work force, which is comprised of the falsely killed nobles who he managed to convince to work for him under threat of a real death, was finally able to catchup with the demand for equipment and weapons. This means that by the third week the rest of Norwich’s recruits could be added to his numbers, and this wasn’t counting the future recruits that will be coming in from the surrounding villages, towns, and other cities that were also located in the province. In fact, it was estimated that even with the royalists levying the population for more troops that the province had between seventy and eighty thousand inhabitance. Now that Michael had five thousand troops heading out in two-hundred fifty man companies to spread the word of the revolution and to roundup the province’s remaining nobility, Michael expects a steady influx of fresh recruits and new mages for his production lines, which currently stands at nearly fifteen-hundred.
It is now the middle of the third week since Norwich was ‘liberated’ as people were now calling it; the last of the city’s trainees had finished their preparation and thus five-thousand had been sent out to join the first five-thousand already out there to assist in recruiting and the hunt for more nobles. The rest had been divvied up and sent out to other cities and larger towns to be both a garrison force and to train their volunteers. Noble processing still continued as various companies briefly returned to deposit their captured aristocrats as well as to rearm and resupply. In fact, this is what Michael was currently observing; the day’s executions were finishing up and he was watching them from his office’s window while waiting for the last of the day’s fake kill nobles to be brought in. A knock on the door brings Michael out of his musings.
“Enter!” He calls out as he retakes his seat at his work desk. Two riflemen guards drag in a man and a woman wearing chains on their wrists and once fancy clothing now marred by filth accumulated from their overnight stay in a prison holding cell that all ‘fake kill’ individuals get after their hanging. They both looked terrified and confused as well as mentally exhausted. Michael meanwhile had an official looking file in front of him containing what little information acquired on the two former nobles sitting across from of him. Flipping open the folder Michael started reading what little was recorded about them but was interrupted in his reading by a weak stuttering.
“Um… are we… ah…” Michael just sighed, ‘Still weak from their stay in the cells, for Christ’s sake I told those guys to keep the prisoners hydrated.’ He thought to himself as he poured two glasses of water and then answered the usual question.
“No Mr. Wolver you and your wife are not dead, you were both just hung until you passed out; if you were meant to be killed I would have had you executed via one of the other more bloody methods.” Michael explained as they drank their water. As he finished explaining Mr. Wolver got an angry look to his face.
“So you are the once leading those brutes.” Michael just laughed at that; this was a common thing, as soon as they learned he was in charge they usually reverted back to their self-righteous attitudes and started complaining and bitching about how he couldn’t do this and that to them, and on the rare occasion some even tried to attack him.
“Yes I am their leader, and I also saved your lives.” This caused them both to blink. “Think about it; right now there are thousands of enraged commoners out there armed with mage killing weaponry pining for blood, if I wasn’t the one in charge then all of you would have simply been killed. I on the other hand am a better man and would be happy to let you all live modestly yet comfortably if you would simply accept my offer of a deal.” They looked at him a little weary as he said this, but inquired nonetheless.
“What kind of deal?” Michael smiled as disarmingly as he could as he laid it all out.
“It’s quite simple, as I’ve said right now the people are all out for noble blood and are armed with the weapons to get it, and I may be the leader and am trying to keep them under control but there are those who are simply out there literally hunting rouge nobles like animals.” They paled at this info. “However despite all this I can still keep you safe if you agree to join and work for me by doing a fairly simple job.”
“What kind of job?” Wolver asked, apparently he was the decision maker of the two.
“It’s very simple; using your magic you just shape various bit of metal and/or wood and then pass them down a line.” They seemed to consider this; the work sounded easy and right now it was the only way to guaranty their safety, so it was a fairly obvious choice.
“Alright then, deal.” With that Michael shook hands with both of them binding them with his power of the ‘Deal’ and securing two more worker mages.
“Splendid,” He began as closed their folder and stamped it. “You will have a 9am to 5pm work schedule with an hour long lunch break half way through the work day and after your day is finished then you are free to do what you want until 9am the next day, on top of that one out of every seven days will be a free day.” This brought a surprised look to both the mage’s faces; what Michael was describing was an extremely easy day for a medieval society. “Please hand this to the man working at the table with the big sign over it that says ‘Final Processing’ and he with take care of getting you both setup and ready to start your new lives, have a nice day.” He handed the folder to Mr. Wolver and gestured for the guards to escort them out.
‘Well then, now that that’s done I can finish up the rest of today’s paperwork and take an early night.’ Michael thought to himself as he read over one of the few remaining reports on his desk. ‘Speaking of night, I really wish Siesta was here, it’s been weeks since I’ve had any female companionship at night and I’ve been too damn busy to find any new girls to add to my… harem?... Yes, I suppose it is a harem, even if it currently only has two members and they are both in a different country.’ While not really that much of an insight since it was obvious it still made him pause in thought, then he scowled as he realized something else. ‘This damn war is cock-blocking me! Well, looks like I have yet another reason to win this war as quickly and as brutally as possible… fuckin’ nobles.’ His thoughts then took on a more sinister turn as he considered sequestering a few ‘kill’ nobles to take out his frustration on; however his musings were interrupted by his vid-phone. Flipping it open he saw that it was Quinten calling him; so with a smile on his face Michael happily greeted him like the courteous leader he was.
“Quinten, how are you doing, what do ya need?” Quinten smiled back at his boss’s open demeanor.
“I’m doing fine sir, however I have called to inform you of an error that you need to know about.” This got Michael’s attention, errors and problems were a normal occurrence in life, especially when running a nation, even one a small as what he currently has. For Quentin to call him about one must mean that it is one hell of an error.
“What sort of error are we talking about?”
“One that involves a noble,” Michael just raised an eyebrow at that. “It appears that one of them has been overlooked and has had an extended stay in the holding cells.”
“How long of an extended stay?” Michael asked; normally the nobles only stay a day, maybe two, in the holding cells before being brought before Michael to be interviewed for final processing.
“She’s been in holding for over a week sir.” That surprised Michael; how do you over look someone for over a week?
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Quinten just shook his head. “How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know sir, no one seems to know; I’ve already sent her file to you, in fact you should be receiving it shortly.” As if on cue a knock on Michael’s door was heard, seconds later a guard entered, handed over the folder, and then left. “Well there you have it sir, the noble in question is already on her way and should arrive in about ten minutes, will that been enough time for you to look over the file?” Michael just sighed as he answered.
“Given how little there normally is in these things ten minutes should be fine.” Quinten just nodded before saying his goodbyes.
“Understood sir, have a pleasant evening.” He hung up after that.
Michael then spent the next ten minutes looking over the limited information contained in the file; it was mainly general info such as name, height, eye & hair color, and anything else that can be learned through simply looking at and questioning a person. Usually the aristocratic prisoners only gave their names and what their duties in serving the royalty included, anything else was just insults and threats. This person, or should it be said woman, seemed to be very cooperative and actually supplied useful personal information, giving the file some actual use. As he looked over the file Michael began wondering how the impending interview is going to go, then the expected knock on the door was heard.
“Come in!” The door opened and the usual guard came in escorting a young woman whose file listed as being twenty-two years old; her hair was a surprisingly bright lime green despite being slightly matted and dirty from her extended stay in the cells. Her eyes despite being filled with fear and uncertainty were a lovely shade of bright purple that when added to her hair color further proved to Michael that he was in an anime and that hair and eye color can truly be anything imaginable. The outfit that she was wearing, despite being torn and disheveled, was unusually functional and even had a hint of utilitarian feel to it; however it was obvious that no commoner could have afforded to wear it based on the type of fabric it was made from. When the guard placed her in the usual chair Michael then spoke to the guard. “Those chains won’t be necessary, take them off.” The guard looked surprised at this comment/command.
“Sir, are you sure?” Indeed, this was the first time that Michael had asked for the chains to be removed from a noble before the interview was completed.
“Yes I’m sure; I don’t think she will be a problem.” He then looked at the girl in question. “Will you?” She quickly shook her head in the negative, she was much more frightened then any of the previous nobles Michael had spoken to. The guard just nodded and did what he was told before exiting the room. “Now that he’s gone we can begin; your name is Axelle Millau correct?”
“Y-yes, that is my name sir.” Her answer was as full of fear as her eyes were and her voice was small. She nodded her head rapidly as she spoke.
“Well Axelle, it says her that you are a native of Gallia, what are you doing in Albion during the middle of a civil war and also sneaking into a city controlled by revolutionaries’ hell bent on destroying the aristocracy, especially when you yourself are an aristocrat?” That last part was what really drew Michael’s curiosity; she had been apprehended whilst trying to sneak in to the city, normally they were caught trying to get out, and they didn’t really sneak. Axelle began fidgeting in what Michael was assuming to be embarrassment as she answered.
“I was in Albion because I was doing research in the Lundonium royal library. When the civil war began I immediately fled the capitol and made my way south in an attempt to get to one of the cities that had a port with ships that went to Tristan.” She paused in her explanation to drink the glass of water that Michael had poured her. During that pause Michael took the time to examine her figure a bit more; according to her file she was 160cm tall (5’3”), a fairly pale complexion in accordance with someone who spent a lot of time indoors doing research, and her breasts seemed to be on par or perhaps slightly larger than Kirche’s, which made them look even larger on her small frame. Michael had little doubt that she was popular in school, though he also assumed that she tried to hide her figure since her clothing was a little on thick side, so much in fact that the only reason that he could judge her figure was because of how damaged her outfit had become.
“What was your reason for trying to go to Tristan?” Michael finally asked when it looked like she wasn’t going to continue speaking as he had thought. To her credit she blushed a little when she realized that she had gotten a bit too interested in drinking her water.
“U-um… I wanted to go to the Tristan magic academy and continue my studies under the tutorship of Professor Colbert, it was why I ended up trying to go through Norwich; it was not only one of the smaller ports open to Tristan, but at the time it was controlled by the royalists and thus not quite as regulated as the others. Imagine my surprise when I learned it had a new owner.” She finished with a faint smile, one that Michael returned, and with a chuckle, but he also asked another question.
“Professor Colbert, as in Jean Colbert, the Flame Snake, the teacher that has a greater interest in technology then any mage to date?” Axelle’s eyes widened greatly at Michael’s casual description of the balding teacher before nodding excitedly and confirming his inquiry.
“Y-yes, Professor Colbert was my favorite teacher when I was in the academy and spawned my interest in the machines used by commoners, which is the reason I was at the royal library, to search for any references to other past mages who had similar interests.” Axelle was now no longer nervous or fearful, now she was excited and clearly in her comfort zone as she rambled on about her interest. “The professor and I have even been keeping correspondence concerning our studies into technology; I was actually hoping to help him in his development of the ‘engine’ that he has been trying to build.” Michael all the while had a polite smile on his face as he listened to the excited girl’s rambling, but mentally he was laughing.
‘Oh my god, this is just too good to be true!’ When Axelle finally stopped talking and took another drink of water, Michael managed to comment. “Well my dear I must say that I find your interest in machines to be quite wonderful.” He began, earning him a surprised look from Axelle. “In fact, I’d like to encourage such an interest, and even facilitate you.”
“You would, why; no one else other than Professor Colbert seems to believe my field of study is anything other than a waste of time.” To answer this Michael simply took out a spare pistol that his men use and placed on the desk between them, upon seeing it Axelle eyes grew in nervousness.
“No doubt you’ve seen this and the other weapons and equipment that my forces have been using?” Axelle said nothing but nodded stiffly, her eyes never leaving the object in front of her. “Well, this and the others are all purely technological in origin, these weapons hold absolutely no magical properties what so ever, despite the fact that mages have been manufacturing them in bulk, they just do it because it is currently the fastest method available.” Her jaw dropped at his explanation as she now looked at the deadly weapon in front of her with awe and a little wonder.
“Y-you must be joking, this thing is technological?” She asked aghast, at his nod she went on. “But it kills mages, how could something like that be technological?”
“It’s quite simple.” He began as he disassembled the pistol. “Various sciences went into creating this marvel from metallurgy to chemistry, but in truth the overall level of tech involved of relatively low.” He showed her the various components and even explained how the pistol in actuality a collection of springs and moving parts. Axelle was mesmerized at his explanation of how a pistol and bullets work together to function and then tried to fathom how other even more advanced tech could exist. “As you can see, this is just a small sample of the potential of science and technology; in fact with the right tech anything that magic can do, can be replicated by those called commoners.”
“This is amazing.” Axelle said in wonderment. “I never would have guessed that technology had this kind of capacity.”
“Indeed, however this is nothing compared to what I have in mind.” This further got her attention. “My main goal is the harmonization of magic and technology to create things far superior to anything that can be made or done by either alone.” He then pulled out his vid-phone. “This is an example, a device made from a technological concept and powered by magic to make a method of communication that while possible by both, is much simpler together.” He explained as he demonstrated the phone’s function. Axelle had never been so transfixed before and had never seen nor heard anything so amazing in her life. In fact, now that she thought about it, she couldn’t help but wonder.
“Why are you showing me all this, I mean, it’s all so amazing but it seems as though you know everything you need in order to achieve any goals you have yourself?” It was true; Michael didn’t really need to share with her all the wonders of technology and magic/tech hybrid that he had access to, but there was an underlying reason.
“Simple really; right now I am using mainly technological devices and means to power the revolution that I have started and will continue to do so for some time to come, but eventually I want to create hybrid devices as I have said. Now, while I could do this myself, I am not really a mage in the normal sense so I would need to differ to actual mages in order to facilitate this goal, and those mages wouldn’t be as… enthusiastic about it as say… someone like you.” Axelle listened closely to Michael’s explanation and the more she heard the more it began to dawn on her as to what he was getting at.
“Y-you mean t-that you w-want…” She was practically vibrating at the prospect of what she was hearing. Michael just smiled.
“I’d like to make a deal with you; in exchange for working for me and following my commands, I’ll impart to you the various scientific concepts, theorems, and ideas that I know to help further your own research and understanding of technology as well as supply you with the manpower and resources necessary to complete various projects I may give that will also expand your knowledge of the physical universe.” Axelle couldn’t believe it, here she was, sitting across from a man that clearly had far greater understand of technology than either her or her idolized professor and he was offering to share all he knew with her. She was trembling in excitement, her heart was beating so fast that she thought it would explode and she was pretty sure that she was even aroused. When Michael extended his hand it took her only seconds before she practically leaped across the desk and grasped it with both of her hands.
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“I accept, oh god yes I accept!” She basically screamed as she grasped his hand tightly, tears streaming down her face as everything she could have wanted was more or less handed to her. Michael on the other hand was grinning maniacally and was glad that Axelle was too busy weeping to notice.
‘Oh score! I can’t believe that I got a mage who loves technology, this is going to make things so much easier, and to top it off, she cute too.’ “Fantastic Axelle.” He said as he let go of her hand after mentally confirming that his power of the ‘Deal’ had taken hold. He then opened her file and scribbled a few things in it before stamping the paper, closing the folder, and handing it to her and then getting up and leading her to the door. “Take this and give it to the man working at the table with the big sign over it that says ‘Final Processing’ and he with take care of getting you set up with everything you need to get started. It’s going to be a few days before everything is ready for you to get to work, but when it is I’ll be there to help you begin as well as give you your first project and any personnel you may need to assist you.” Axelle was practically bouncing with giddiness at the prospect of getting to work, and as they got to the door she jumped him a big hug.
“Oh thank you thank you thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me, I won’t let you down sir!” Michael smiled fondly at her display of thanks and affection before wishing her good luck and sending her out.
‘With that I can now start up a few projects I’ve been working on; aside from weapons I need to get my territory industrialized, with Axelle’s help I should be one or even several steps closer to this goal.’ He thought to himself as he sat back at his desk to finish off the day’s work. ‘Yep, the coming weeks are going to be progressive.’
Several weeks later…
It would turnout, that putting Axelle in charge of his new R&D department could quite possibly be the smartest decision that Michael could have ever done, indeed it was no doubt the smartest decision anyone has ever made in this world. The girl was a latent genius when it came to the realm of technology, she was already a triangle-class earth mage bordering on square-class, but her real expertise as it turned out would be science. Barely a week after stepping out of Michael’s office, Axelle was setup with a converted warehouse and was given, by Michael, a crash course into the wonderful worlds of electricity, magnetism, and chemistry, not alchemy. She was then given two-weeks to study these concepts before Michael gave her the first of his pet projects; developing rockets and a handheld method of launching them.
Five days later Michael and what few military officers he had were treated to the first ever firing of the shoulder mounted rocket launcher, which Michael then promptly dubbed the ‘Bazooka’. When asked why he was quoted as saying; ‘because reasons, that’s why.’ Axelle had managed to develop this weapon thanks to her new found understanding of electricity and propulsion physics as well as a few timely hints and suggestions from Michael, such as the use of electrical wires made from copper and the concept of a device for storing electrical energy, i.e. a battery. The actual rocket itself was entirely her own design.
The actual function of the new Bazooka variant was fairly simple; first was that tube with the trigger, then came the little box that acted as the battery that provided the electricity need to activate the rocket. The battery was in reality a box enchanted to store a charge of electrical energy and would use said energy when the trigger on the launcher was squeezed and completed the circuit. Thanks to magic the battery could store enough energy for three dozen triggers before it needed to be replaced. The design of the Bazooka was made to be user friendly and was simple to load, operate, and maintain as well as produce, in fact the hardest part to make was the battery, but thanks to how it works there were definitely going to be many applications for it.
The effectiveness of the Bazooka was also apparent; with an effective range of five hundred meters and a rocket able to penetrate two to two and a half inches of solid steel, it was no doubt going to be a very valuable weapon. Michael had already requested the development of an armor piercing variant capable of twice the penetrating power of the current version. Production of the Bazooka was started later that afternoon and within a week soldiers were learning how to use them, enthusiasm was high.
Aside from the rocket launcher, Michael had also gathered a team of mages and blacksmiths to figure out how to replicate a large weapon that he had used his own powers of conjure up, a 155mm howitzer artillery cannon. While Axelle was busy with her thing, this team was painstakingly disassembling and analyzing the new and impressive instrument of war with an eye for detail that would make a watch maker proud. The end result was perfect, as it should be with such dedicated individuals. Nearly three weeks of meticulous work and an exact copy of the howitzer was test fired, the only complaint was the firing rate, four per minute, it would be another few days before alterations were made to make the artillery piece quicker and easier to load and unload. Now the howitzer and its ammunition was in production, unfortunately thanks to its complexity the build time was painfully slow, so for now only about a dozen are in service.
Other than adding to his armory, Michael had also managed to secure ninety-nine percent of the province, thus increasing his army’s size by a whopping forty thousand, which adding to what he already had from Norwich brought his army size to over fifty thousand fully equipped, trained, and armed combat troops ready to crush the nobility. The last one percent of the province was were the remaining royalist forces were located, a fact that Michael was literally just learning and is what he was discussing right now.
“So that’s where they have been all this time?” Michael asked the man whose picture he was speaking to in his phone, an informant, one of several he had out there trying to keep tabs on the nobles around him and his forces.
“Yes sir, apparently the royalists and the Reconquista have been battling it out around this area for the past few months, but recently the royalists were pushed back and are now under siege and trapped in these four fortresses.” The informant explained to Michael; the fortresses that were the subject of discussion were part of what Michael had likened to a miniature version of a Maginot Line due to the fact that according to provincial history those castles were built long before Albion was a united country and this province was one of dozens of smaller kingdoms, now they were being used by the last of the royalist forces in the area as a final standing point. Aside from those forces, the only other royalist forces in the southern part of the country were those of the prince located at Newcastle, but even they were being closed in on.
“Have you been able to get an idea on troop counts?” Michael asked.
“Initial estimates put the Reconquista numbers at approx. sixty five to seventy thousand and the royalists at less than half that, all divided amongst the four fortresses. Personally sir I don’t see the royalists lasting much longer, in fact the only reason they are still alive is a combination of the fact that the Reconquista don’t have any of their ships present and the royalists own stubbornness.” Michael nodded grimly.
“Yes, no truer words can be said, well good job; I will need a full report as soon as possible, that’s all.” With that the informant nodded and hung-up. Later Michael would receive that report.
As it stood the Reconquista had about fifteen thousand troops besieging the three castles named; Exeter Castle, Newbury Castle, and Alton Castle, while around twenty thousand were at Reigate Castle. On the flip side, the royalists had approx. seven thousand at the first three and ten thousand at Reigate. Because of these numbers, Michael was going to need nearly his entire army to not only break the sieges but also take all four of the castles in the process. Still, fifty thousand versus two separate forces with a combined strength of nearly double that, not an easy task; luckily the weaponry Michael’s army has access to should even things up, that and the element of surprise.
Several days later, road to Reigate Castle: POV (Major Briek Evron)
Newly promoted Major Briek was at the head of two Regiments of ten thousand revolutionary soldiers on their way to the first true battle of the war. He was extremely proud of his current assignment; after all he was among only a hand full of individuals with the rank of Major which was currently the highest military rank in Michael’s army. The reason for this according to Michael was that they didn’t have enough numbers to warrant the use of higher ranks, but Michael also said that will quickly change once the ‘Castle Quartet’, as they were being called, was brought under revolutionary control. This news made Briek and the other Majors even more determined to win their next battles since it meant they would prove themselves worthy to hold the future rank of General.
However that was for later, Briek and the other three Majors needed to focus on not only breaking the sieges at their assigned Castles, but also capture said Castles. Briek knew that it wouldn’t be easy since he only had ten thousand troops while his opponent had that and more, plus he had the challenge of taking Reigate, the larger and more heavily garrisoned of the fortresses; ten thousand against twice that in Reconquista forces plus another ten thousand garrisoned royalists. Luckily there would be two extra Regiments of five thousand each held in reserve, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be. There were also these new howitzers that each attacking force was given, while there weren’t that many, they were sure to at least help in breaching the Castle walls.
After several more hours of marching a call to halt was given and one of Briek’s Lieutenants reported to him.
“Sir, we have arrived at our staging area.” Briek looked around and was able to catch a glimpse of the Castle in the distance and nodded.
“Very good Lieutenant, begin setting up camp and deploy the howitzers as we planned.” The Lieutenant promptly nodded and saluted.
“Yes sir!” He then set off and began issuing orders and Briek pulled out his vid-phone and dialed up Michael who quickly answered.
“Major, how goes the march?” Michael asked in his usual friendly way.
“Sir, we have just arrived at our staging area just under 10km from Reigate as ordered.” Michael nodded in understanding and took on a look of seriousness.
“Well done Major, I have recently received a report that suggests that the Reconquista forces have lost their patience in besieging the Castle Quartet, they are currently readying themselves to break the fortresses once and for all. Because of this development we need to move our attack date forward; the new attack time will be tomorrow no later than 0900hrs.” Briek was stunned; originally the attack date was to be at least three days from now in order to better situate themselves for a higher chance of success, nevertheless, neither he nor any other would fail in their orders from Michael.
“I understand sir, I and my forces will be ready on schedule.” Michael looked very pleased to hear this.
“Excellent; Majors Samuel and Nathen are already in position and Major Ruben reports that he will be ready by the evening, so unless you are notified of something different, proceed as instructed.” Briek nodded and saluted smartly, Michael saluted back and hung-up.
‘Just a few more hours,’ He thought. ‘A few more hours and we will finally be known to our enemies… and we will destroy them.’
The next morning… Exeter Castle: POV change (Count Elliston) Reconquista
‘Todays the day.’ Count Elliston gleefully thought to himself. ‘This is day that we finally break this farce of an army and at last rid ourselves of the last of the royalist holdouts in the south of our glorious nation. Not only that, but victory here will definitely earn me favor in the Reconquista upper echelons.’ The Count was indeed in a good mood, he was going to be promoted once he took this fortress. “Capitan, I want these holdouts destroyed promptly today, no more waiting, understand?” He asked his second in command.
“Yes milord, this Castle will be ours by the end of the day.” The Capitan confirmed confidently, after all, what could stop them?
“Splendid, begin the attack.” The Capitan nodded and relayed the orders, numerous horn calls bellowed out signaling the order to advance.
Fifteen thousand men, both mages and trained commoners, were spread out and surrounding the Castle, all of them began what was hoped to be the final attack to take Exeter Castle. As the minutes passed it looked to the Count that the battle would be routine; then the explosions happened. First one, then nearly a dozen more, all along the right flank of army in accordance with his viewpoint; large gashes in his line formed as hundreds of groups of tightly clustered men were blown to pieces.
“What in Founder’s name was that?!” The Count yelled out; there was no way that was a mage’s spell, he could feel the tremors from his position overlooking the battle field. Before any of his command staff could answer a thunderous roar was heard and out of the tree line closest to where his forces were hit strangely garbed men came running out in rough line formations, all of them screaming battle cries and heading for the damaged segment of his army. “Are those… commoners?” He asked bewildered. He then started to purple with rage as it occurred to him what was happening; commoners were attacking his glorious army! “These filthy peasants dare to attack my army, Capitan, don’t just sit there on your horse bewildered like a fool, signal our men to crush them!” The Capitan was startled to awareness as he quickly acknowledged his lord.
“Y-yes milord, at once!” He sent out signals and commands causing the Reconquista forces to sift position and move against the oncoming plebeians.
Elliston watched with satisfaction as his army began firing off fireballs, ice spears, and wind blades as well as arrows from the commoners; the various spells and arrows quickly reaped a heavy toll on the attacking rabble, felling hundreds. There were even several attacks coming from the castle, apparently the royalists wanted in on the action too. Large earth golems soon came up from the ground and began lumbering towards the still advancing foe, they too would have crushed the rowdy peasants, however before they could several of them were consumed by the same explosions from before. The wave of blasts consumed most of the golems causing them to collapse in to the earth they were made of; others simply disintegrated on their own as their summoners were no doubt killed by other explosions that occurred elsewhere.
After the failure of the golems, which stunned the Count and his staff, the two sides came to within two hundred meters; the Count’s previously faltering confidence reached new heights as he saw the spearmen, pikemen, swordsmen, and even dismounted knights of his army about to slaughter the foolish commoners. However, just as his forces got to less than a hundred meters seconds later, the peasants suddenly slowed to a near stop and leveled what appeared to be some kind of muskets and fired off a wall of lead, dropping entire companies of infantrymen of all kinds. Undeterred since the Count knew that muskets could only fire one shot at a time before needing a lengthy reloading time, he simply let out a humph at the losses he just suffered and dismissed them as a lucky strike by the rabble.
Thus, it came as an enormous shock when instead of running or attempting to reload; the plebian army simply fired another volley, then another, and another, never stopping as they kept shooting round after round off in rapid succession, cutting his men down like wheat. More explosions occurred, this time most hit the Castle, but still his army suffered huge losses. As if all this wasn’t enough, then came pairs of commoners carrying an odd looking… rod, on their shoulders, one carried it while the other had a large pack. The pairs would aim the rod and suddenly it would spout fire and a slightly smaller explosion would occur where ever they were pointing it.
The Count witnessed the effects personally as he observed a column of cavalry charging the commoners, the rod was simply pointed at the charging horsemen, then it spewed fire and the front of the column blew up, sending bits of horse, man, and metal all over, stopping the charge completely. The survivors were then gunned down by the nearest musket wielding enemies. It wasn’t just his forces that suffered, the royalists who fired from the Castle walls and towers were also targets of the fire shooting rods, whole sections were brought down when a fireball or spray of ice spears were launched out.
It didn’t take long for the Count’s army to start routing; explosions, muskets that could fire continuously, and commoners armed with weapons that could spout fire and make even more explosions. All this became too much for the soldiers under his command. Thus, the Count was filled with rage and humiliation at this uncouth gathering of what he viewed as inferior people killing his men.
“CAPITAN, GET THOSE COWERDS BACK IN LINE AND RUN THOSE INSOLENT BASTEREDS FROM THE FIELD!” The Count no longer had hold of his temper and therefore began taking it out on anyone around him. The Capitan was desperately trying to get the situation back under control.
“Yes milord, were trying to…” He was interrupted by one of the explosions going off practically right next to him and the rest of the command staff, in fact several of the staff members were on the ground moaning in pain and bleeding, it was only divine luck that he and the Count were unharmed. The Count was rattled but otherwise just as angry.
“By the founder Capitan I swear that if you don’t…” He too got interrupted, but instead of an explosion it was one of his Lieutenants getting knocked of his horse with a gaping hole in his torso with blood gushing out. The Count looked over and saw that some the enemy musket men were firing at him, however what really got his attention was the commoner aiming one of the rods at him, which now he saw was actually a tube. Seeing this, he pulled out his sword-wand in an attempt to slay the offending peasant, but before he could even utter a word the man fired.
All he could hear was ringing, all he could see was the sky, and he was on his back he realized. ‘Why am I laying here?’ He thought to himself. ‘Ah yes, that commoner fired that strange tube-rod at me, but what happened afterward?’ The Count wondered, he also realized that he couldn’t move. ‘This is strange, I can’t get up, oh well, I’m tired anyway, perhaps if I take a nap I’ll have the energy to get up, and then… then I can win this battle and earn more prestige in the Reconquista, yes… but first that nap… so tired.’ With that the Count closed his eyes, and never opened them again.
POV change (Major Nathen)
With no small amount of satisfaction Major Nathen watched the leader of the Reconquista forces attacking Exeter Castle along with his command staff get blown to pieces by a Bazooka team, finishing them off after the artillery strike he had called in failed hit close enough to kill them all. When Nathen had been promoted to Major and given the task of taking Exeter he was thrilled, after all it was one of the first ever pitched battles of the revolution. Nathen chose to be in on the action and thus he and his personal squad had charged in right behind the front most companies and he himself had called in nearly half the artillery strikes, especially the ones that took out the golems. He had also gunned down his fair share enemy troops.
Now, with the death of their leading officers the Reconquista forces were in full retreat, now all that was left was to blow a hole in the fortress wall, charge in, and kill anyone who was dumb enough to resist. He also needed to do it quickly, his forces had already suffered many casualties and the royalists were now launching spells like crazy at them.
“Alright sergeant, call up those artillery guys, tell ‘em to bring down that wall as fast as they can, also spread the word to any Bazooka team you can to pitch in!” He told the squad sergeant with the vid-phone who seconds later called the strike in.
Less than a minute later the Castle wall in front of them got hammered by a full barrage of howitzer shells and about a dozen rockets. At first when the dust clear it looked like the wall would stay standing, but seconds later chunks of stone began falling and impacting the ground hard. A couple of minutes later a second wave of shells hit, completely demolishing the wall. There was a calm, like the one before a storm as the revolutionaries stared at the now destroyed Castle wall, the calm lasted for what could have been seconds or minutes before it was broken by Major Nathen’s yell.
“THE WALL HAS BEEN BREACHED, COME ON YOU BASTARDS AND WHORESONS, WE’VE GOT A BATTLE TO WIN!” A great cheer rose up from the revolutionary army as it charge through the opening, Major Nathen and his squad at the front. Several spells flew out to meet them adding to the death toll, but this did nothing to deter them and just caused the riflemen to fire their weapons back at the offending mages.
Once inside it became a whole new battlefield, as the royalists tried to rally against the invading commoners. What few spear and swordsmen there were tried to get up close, but the training of the revolutionary men combined with their bayonets, grenades, and secondary pistol weapons allowed them to be effective even in close quarters. The mages attempted to keep their distance and use their spells, but that just left them open the enemy rifles which fired much more often than simple muskets. The royalists managed to put up a valiant fight, however when it became clear that even the mages couldn’t stop these strange men with advanced muskets the commoner soldiers amongst the royalist forces began surrendering, and once it was apparent that surrenders were being taken, more and more began laying down their arms.
It would take nearly an hour for the revolutionaries to clear the large fortress, but their training in clearing rooms and buildings combined with the ever increasing numbers of surrendering enemy soldiers’ ensured victory for the attackers.
What happened at Exeter Castle was to be closely repeated at both Newbury and Alton Castles as the Majors in charge of those forces managed to use surprise and their weapons to their advantage to first route the Reconquista forces and then breach the Castle walls and then clear said Castles. As for Reigate, well…
Reigate Castle: POV change (Marquis Arthur Huxley) Reconquista
To say that Marquis Arthur was flabbergasted would not due his shock justice; the reason for his amazement was simple; his army of twenty thousand was being routed by peasants, something that should not be possible. At first all was well, he was leading the largest group of Reconquista forces to finally end the royalist’s control of this province by taking the four Castles that defended said province, and in fact he was personally leading the attack on the largest of the defending Castles, Reigate. However then out of nowhere sections of his army were wiped out by large earth shaking explosions, and then out of the tree line thousands of uniformed commoners of unknown affiliation came charging at his forces.
The Marquis had acted calmly and appropriately to this unexpected incident and ordered his army to shift focus and attack them. Unlike most nobles who got angry when things didn’t go according to plan, Marquis Arthur always managed to keep his cool and tries to calmly adjust and adapt to meet any new challenge. This however was more than a simple new challenge; these strange plebeians were armed with advanced new muskets that could fire many times before needing to be reloaded, had what must have been some kind of powerful new artillery, and they even had odd shoulder mounted weapons that could cause aimed explosions. All this meant that his army was suffering horrendous losses caused by what has been traditionally an inferior force, one made entirely of commoners.
Still, things had been going well; thanks to his army’s large complement of mages his forces were able to inflict nearly even losses amongst the commoners, not only that but the royalists were even sending out attacks of their own against these unknowns. But it wouldn’t last; the explosions were just too precise and seemed to be targeting his mages, some with those commoners carrying the tubes that caused explosion of their own. However the final nail in the coffin was the arrival of another wave of enemy soldiers. It was too much, and as the bodies of his men kept piling up his army’s ranks began braking and routing. At first he tried to rally his men, but then the messengers began arriving and he too lost heart.
“Capitan, sound the retreat.” His second in command along with the rest of his staff looked at him in disbelief.
“Milord, retreat, but we can’t, we mustn’t, we can still win this.” One of his lieutenants tried to plead, but the Marquis just scoffed at him.
“I admire your spirit lieutenant, but our army is being slaughtered and is routing as we speak, add to that our forces at Exeter, Newbury, and Alton have been broken and completely routed. We. Have. Lost. Now sound the retreat!” He ordered firmly. The Capitan and others just looked on glumly and the orders were given and the horns sounded. They all watched as their forces scrambled in a desperate race to escape the enemy that was massacring them. As the Marquis turned and left the field he had to wonder. ‘Who were those men?’
Two days later… Reigate Castle: POV (Michael)
Michael was currently standing in the main study room looking out one of the windows that showed one of the courtyards of Reigate Castle. The fight for this Castle would turn out to be every bit as challenging as predicted; even after routing the Reconquista besiegers and breaching the wall the defenders fought much harder than at the other three Castles. Even when his men had made it into the Castle, strikes from the howitzers were still called in and there was liberal use of Bazookas, the result had been serious structural damage done to the Castle. Thankfully it was nothing that his earth mages couldn’t fix, it would be a couple of weeks but soon Reigate would be his new base of operations.
What his real problem was though were the losses he sustained in taking the Castle Quartet. Reigate was of course the worst; even with the original attacking force of ten thousand and the reserve force sent in consisting of another ten thousand Michael’s forces lost approx. nine thousand men taking this damn Castle. His losses at the other three were more manageable but still frustrating; Exeter and Alton suffered about three thousand while Newbury was closer to four thousand. Thus out of fifty thousand men, Michael’s attacking army was now down to roughly thirty thousand, heart breaking.
‘Fucking magic.’ He had seen the results of the use of the noble’s magic himself; groups of men immolated, skewered, cut to pieces, or just plain crushed to a bloody pulp. He need better methods to fight large groups of mages at range, while artillery, rockets, and riles worked well, he need more or else he was going continue to suffer high casualties and eventually morale was going to start plummeting. Sadly though at the moment he didn’t have the time to do this, reports from the battles had indicated that while most of the Reconquista commanders and their staff had been killed, the commanders at Reigate had all managed to survive and would no doubt inform whoever was above them about his little rebellion and how it kicked their asses.
With that in mind he needed more men, thus he had dispatched numerous companies of men out to the countryside to recruit the various towns and small cities to their cause and start training volunteers to start bolstering his army. Initial estimates predicted that at the very least he could replenish his losses and then some. Michael was hoping that he could double or even triple his original numbers and then take the coastal city of Anglia which is currently controlled by the Reconquista. Anglia was the second largest port city in the south and was thus one of Albion’s most important ports to Gallia, there were others of course, but losing Anglia would definitely be a major blow the Reconquista’s trading with Gallia. While Norwich was a port to Tristan, in the grand scheme of things it was actually only a moderate port.
Aside from his new short term goal of capturing Anglia, Michael still needed to capture more territory for the simple reason of creating a buffer between his new base and whatever large armies that the Reconquista were going to send after him once the main bosses, especially Cromwell, learned of a commoner rebellion able to defeat a mage led army. What he really wanted to do was to fight his way up the coast line straight to Lundonium, and to do that he would need to make other defensive lines against the other large cities and their aristocratic rulers with their large armies, thus a static territorial buffer defense line.
His goals now more fleshed out, at least in his mind, Michael then turned to the other reports at his desk; first was one from Axelle, she was currently working on ways to combine magic and technology in a way to boost the production ability of his new territory. Speaking of production, another report was about his mages work force; it appears that they were actually enjoying working, apparently going from having everything handed to you to having to work for a living was giving them a sense of accomplishment that they usually only got from waging war for dumb reasons and acting like bastards. The report indicated that production of rifles, Bazookas, ammunition, and howitzers was meeting demand, nothing special.
All in all it seemed like things were going smoothly, the only thing he had to worry about was when Louise would show up with Wardes to see prince Wales.
City of Carlow: POV (Duke Louis Lefroy) Reconquista
Duke Louis was the noble appointed to govern the large city of Carlow, he was also the one given the responsibility of eliminating the last of the royalist forces in the south, a task that he had then reassigned to Marquis Arthur and given over sixty thousand men to accomplish with. The Duke had great confidence in the Marquis’s ability to succeed and thus paid absolutely no attention to the progress of the campaign. This was why currently the Duke was having a dinner party and had invited many distinguished nobles from his province.
“Tell me milord Duke, how goes the fight against the royalist holdouts that you have been tasked with removing?” Asked one of the many Counts under Duke Louis.
“Well my good Count, Marquis Arthur is currently besieging them in the last of their fortresses and will no doubt be returning within the week to report success.” Answered the Duke with the up most certainty. The Count was about to say something else when a messenger hurried up to the Duke and whispered something to him that the Count couldn’t hear, though whatever it was seemed to amaze the Duke. “Are you sure?” He asked the messenger, at his nod the Duke sighed. “Very well, please excuse me Count something important just came up.” With that the Duke left, following the messenger.
The Duke was led to one of the many meeting rooms located throughout his palace; inside he was greeted by the presence of the subject of his latest discussion, Marquis Arthur.
“Marquis, I was not expecting you for nearly a week, last I heard you had the royalist trapped and besieged in their own strongholds, don’t tell me they just surrendered?” Asked the Duke, though truthfully he wouldn’t mind if that was the case, it would definitely look good in his report to the capitol.
“Milord Duke Louis, I wish that were the case, however I regret to inform you that all four sieges have been broken.” At this the Duke’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief.
“What! How is that possible, there is no way those royalist pigs could have mustered the strength to break their sieges.” The Marquis just shook his head.
“This you are right, it wasn’t the royalists who broke the sieges it was a different force.” Again the Duke was surprised, then concerned.
“A different force, don’t tell me that one of the other kingdoms have invaded, which one?” At this the Marquis sighed, he was not looking forward to admitting this.
“I’m afraid milord that it wasn’t one of the mainland kingdoms, it was an army of commoners.” This caused the Duke to pause for a minute to process what he had heard, at first he was certain that he had heard wrong, but the look in the Marquis’s eyes said he hadn’t; confusion turn to anger and then into outrage.
“WHAT, IMPOSSIBLE, there is no way a rabble of farmers and peasants could have defeated a force of mages in open warfare, much less FOUR SEPARATE FORCES!” The Duke was red with rage at this humiliation, if anyone learned of this defeat, even though it hadn’t been him personally to have been defeated but one of his underlings, then he would be a laughing stock.
“Forgive me milord but these were no ordinary commoners, they were well trained, equipped, and armed with new advanced muskets and powerful artillery as well as some other new weapon that I have never seen before.” The Marquis tried to reason with the Duke and explain how this in fact was possible, but the Duke wouldn’t hear it.
“I don’t care what they were armed with, they were still peasants, there is no excuse, losing a battle against commoners with the forces you had at your disposal is an unimaginable humiliation, I should have you executed for incompetence!” The Duke was still seeing red; he would no doubt carryout his threat if the Marquis didn’t say something quick to appease him.
“Milord please, I can right this wrong, I just need more troops and I can not only put down this new rebellion but also crush what’s left of the royalists.” The Marquis was getting desperate now; he knew that the rebels had already destroyed the royalists so if he can just get another army and beat them, then as far as Duke would be concerned he would have accomplished both tasks. Hearing the Marquis plea the Duke settled down a bit and thought about it; the Marquis past war record was excellent, aside from this latest fiasco, it was the reason the Duke had chosen him to finish off the royalists in his name. After a few more minutes of considering it the Duke relented.
“Very well, you will be given a second chance to fulfil your mission, however if you fail again then you will be executed.” Warned the Duke.
“Thank you milord, I promise I will succeed or die.” Declared the Marquis.
With that the Duke and Marquis discussed what forces were going to be need by the Marquis to both crush the rebellion and destroy the remaining royalists; the Marquis didn’t inform the Duke that the commoner army already wiped them out in order to increase the number of soldiers the Duke would give him. The Marquis need all that he could get; even though he had managed to order a successful retreat from Reigate he still lost nearly ten thousand men there alone, add to that the complete route suffered at the other Castles he had only been able to recover roughly twenty thousand troops from a total of forty-five thousand sent against the other three Castles. Thus out of sixty five thousand soldiers he only had barely thirty thousand after the losses suffered in battle and from the route.
In the end the Marquis had managed to requisition nearly one hundred fifty thousand soldiers gathered from both Carlow’s garrison and the Duke’s other garrisons in the surrounding towns and smaller cities. So with a new army numbering around one hundred eighty thousand, Marquis Arthur set out to repair his sullied honor and crush the newest commoner rebellion or die trying.
‘I don’t know who these rebels are or who leads them, but mark my words I will find him and personally end him after I slaughter every last one of his men, so help me Brimir.’ Thought the Marquis with a murderous gleam in his eyes.
One way or another he was going to redeem himself, either through a glorious victory or an honorable death.