[EDWARD’S POV]

March 26, 1337

The morning started off with a bit of chaos. When a knight entered my room to wake me up, he was scared shitless by the presence of a falcon, particularly the majestic Peregrine Falcon, perched nearby. To his amazement, the falcon seemed to be fixated on my closed eyes as I peacefully slept. In his surprise, the knight hurriedly called two of his companions for assistance. As soon as they entered the room, the falcon swiftly turned its attention to them, which startled the knights quite a bit. One of them even let out a startled cry, resembling a small bird's chirp. It was that cry that roused me from my slumber.

It took me about five minutes and a command to the falcon to reassure them that this bird was indeed tamed. I concocted a story, explaining that I had tamed it nearly a year ago when it was still a juvenile. After a bit of explanation, they reluctantly accepted my account, although a few couldn't resist speculating that this might be a sign from the gods.

Following the incident, we organized into two groups of six and set out for another hunting expedition. This time, with a little assistance from "Zephyr" (yep, that’s the name I've chosen for my falcon), we successfully tracked and hunted two boars and one stag. Pursuing the stag was a particularly challenging endeavor, as it led us on a half-hour chase, demonstrating remarkable speed and endurance. The male red deer proved to be an incredible specimen.

After several hours of hunting, our group returned with a single stag, two boars, and a dozen rabbits. The other group had a different assortment, bringing back seven squirrels, two foxes, one pheasant, and a single marten. To facilitate the transport of our game, one of the knights was dispatched to fetch a wagon from the nearby city. Within an hour, a spacious wagon capable of carrying all our game was brought to the heart of the forest. We loaded the spoils onto the wagon, mounted our horses, and began our journey back to the city.

By afternoon, we had arrived back in the city. The streets were quiet, with most of the shops closed due to it being Sunday. As we made our way to the castle, the city seemed to slumber in the midday sun. Once in the castle's front yard, we unloaded the day's catch and immediately began preparations for a grand feast.

All the game was taken to the castle's kitchen, and fishermen were hired to catch as many cod and haddock as they could. Orchards were contacted to supply a generous amount of fruits to complement our feast. By nightfall, a sumptuous banquet for over two hundred people had been meticulously organized.

Invitations were extended to everyone in the castle, including influential artisans, merchants, and their families. The evening was filled with merriment, barrels of drinks seemingly evaporating as the night progressed. By the end of the feast, the attendees were sated and content. Some of the men, their spirits lifted by the festivities, chose to visit the nearby brothel immediately after the feast.

The feast concluded in a chorus of laughter and camaraderie, leaving everyone with full bellies and warm hearts. As the night deepened, guests departed with joyous memories, and the castle returned to its peaceful slumber.

—--------------------

May 1, 1337

Yesterday, news arrived that King Phillip VI had rebuffed peace talks between the delegations of both nations. War now loomed on the horizon. In my month and a half of serving as regent, I made a brief visit to Wymondham, overseeing the production of an additional two thousand sacks of cement. These were utilized to establish cement factories in both Norwich and Wymondham. The Guild Hall's construction was finalized, as was the school's. Qualified teachers were appointed to instruct students, with daily sessions arranged in two batches of four hours each.

The guild hall's construction was a feat in itself, and it was made possible by a primitive form of cement that I had concocted. While far from the precision of modern formulations, this mixture did the job, binding the stones and timber together, ensuring the sturdiness of the building. The hall, was not just a place of gathering; it was a living embodiment of master craftsmanship.

As the guildmaster, I took great pride in both the guild and the hall. For a few mornings, I would visit the construction site, overseeing the progress, and lending a hand where needed. The hall's facade, adorned with intricate carvings that represented our guild's diverse crafts, was a symbol of our unity and commitment to the city.

Inside the guild hall, the days were filled with activity. The cement that held it together was a testament to our innovation, and it was here that the skills and knowledge of our guild members thrived. It was more than just a place to convene; it was a place where apprentices learned their trade under the watchful eye of the seasoned masters.

In the afternoons, the hall would come alive with discussions and meetings. We debated trade, regulations, and the ways in which we could all contribute to the prosperity of Wymondham. It was during these moments that my position as guildmaster truly came to the forefront. I led the discussions, ensuring that every voice was heard and that every idea was considered.

But the guild hall was not solely a place of labor and business. It was a center of celebration and festivity. The camaraderie among our members shone brightly during these occasions.

Returning to the operation of the cement factories, I meticulously organized the various sections to maximize efficiency and safeguard the proprietary cement-making process. Furthermore, I maintained a constant presence of at least ten soldiers in each factory. Regarding the potential of reverse engineering, it's important to note that while basic cement production techniques existed in medieval times, the intricacies of modern cement manufacturing would have been far beyond the grasp of medieval knowledge and technology.

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Each factory had the capacity to produce between 40 and 50 cement sacks daily, resulting in a combined daily output of up to a hundred sacks on good days. To regulate the market ,maintain exclusivity, and not undervalue the product eventually, I imposed a weekly sales limit of no more than 30 sacks to eager nobles. These coveted sacks were sold at £50 each, ensuring a consistent monthly income of nearly £6,000. While this may not appear substantial in the historical context, it translates to an astonishing £4,494,120 in the currency of the future. Accumulating such wealth within a month, essentially without active involvement, is undeniably remarkable. If this pace continues, the annual revenue could easily rival that of the crown during a particularly prosperous year, and this is achieved while selling only 5% of the total cement production to the aristocracy.

Subsequently, I embarked on a campaign to bolster our military strength by recruiting additional soldiers. Moreover, I integrated several free companies into the earldom's forces, enticing them through acquisitions and promises of fair treatment, including above-average pay compared to their typical mercenary earnings and higher rankings based on their skills. To streamline the military hierarchy in Norwich, I implemented the same system that had already been successfully in place in Wymondham. The soldiers quickly adapted to this system, and all of this took place within the month of April, a truly taxing endeavor.

With my father's existing army, the preexisting force in Wymondham, and all the freshly recruited soldiers undergoing training, our total military strength reached 2,500 personnel.

To organize this sizable force while maintaining a well-balanced and efficient structure, I implemented the following categorization:

1. Infantry:

Spearmen: 900 soldiers

Archers: 800 soldiers

Pikemen: 300 soldiers

2. Cavalry:

Knights: 250 soldiers

Light Cavalry: 250 soldiers

3. Support and Special Units:

Siege Engineers: 40 soldiers

Scouts and Spies: 40 soldiers

Artillery: 20 soldiers

4. Command Structure:

Commander-in-Chief (Earl): 1 (The overall commander)

Brigadier Generals: 2 (Responsible for specific divisions, e.g., infantry and cavalry)

Colonels: 4 (Leading regiments within the divisions)

Lieutenant Colonels: 20 (Assisting colonels in regiment leadership)

Majors: 60 (Leading battalions or smaller units)

Staff Sergeants: 10 (Responsible for support and logistics)

Sergeants: 25 (Leading squads and ensuring discipline)

This distribution ensures a well-balanced military, incorporating both infantry and cavalry forces, along with specialized support units for various roles such as siege warfare, intelligence gathering, and artillery operations. The command structure is designed to facilitate efficient leadership and coordination on the battlefield.

I promptly dispatched a letter to inform my father of these recent reforms and his newly bestowed title of Commander-in-Chief, equivalent to a Field Marshal. His response arrived sooner than anticipated, and his enthusiasm mirrored a child's joy upon receiving a cherished toy. His excitement overflowed from his letter, and he expressed a desire for a more thorough explanation of the military system, reaffirming his strong military inclination.

I included Zephyr on the messenger's journey, allowing the falcon to familiarize itself with the route and prepare for its role as a messenger falcon in my service.

In this era, the influence and strength of a noble title varied greatly, primarily depending on wealth and power. Consider the title of Earl as an example. A lesser earl, like Hugh Courtenay, 10th Earl of Devon, could assemble a force of 300 to 400 soldiers, a number easily matched by many powerful barons. A moderate Earl, such as Humphrey de Bohun, 6th Earl of Hereford, had command of 700 to 800 troops, including knights and vassals, making him capable of fielding a respectable army when necessary. Powerful Earls, like Thomas Beauchamp, 11th Earl of Warwick, or my father, Thomas Plantagenet (without my assistance), 1st Earl of Norfolk, could raise armies of over a thousand soldiers, possessing the resources and authority to maintain a substantial and well-equipped force.

Then there were the Great Earls or High Earls, a rare category exemplified by Henry Plantagenet, 3rd Earl of Lancaster, and my future father-in-law. He held one of the most prestigious and influential Earldoms in England during this period, with the capacity to amass an army exceeding two thousand soldiers in times of crisis.

With my recent reforms and the amalgamation of my army with my father's, the Earldom now boasts a force exceeding 2,500 soldiers without relying on our vassals. In times of conflict, the vassals would undoubtedly answer the call to arms, potentially pushing the total number of troops well beyond three thousand. This transformation elevates Norfolk's army to the largest within the King's forces, solidifying my father's status as a Great Earl without a doubt. The renown it would bestow upon our branch of the royal dynasty would be quite significant.

I withdrew to my chambers after crafting a response to my father-in-law's missive regarding the betrothal. Obviously, I beseeched him to postpone the union until the impending conflict had concluded. My message was entrusted to one of my swiftest messengers, a plea carried on the wings of haste.

I possessed absolute certainty that, within this very month, the French would unleash their invasion upon Gascony, a land firmly held under English dominion for more than a century. This momentous event heralded the arrival of the Edwardian Phase in the epic chronicles of the Hundred Years' War. Yet, a subtle yet profound change graced this chapter—no longer would it bear the name of King Edward III, but rather, it would forever echo with the fame of the Edwardian Phase, a testament to the burgeoning might and sway of his similarly named cousin, Edward of Norfolk.