-He comes -

[30.13.1623]

Faywyn.

LEVI arose to the seemingly perpetual lamentations of the wintry morn, wooden shutters clattering raucously with each icy gust of wind. The earl emitted a low groan as he lifted the rather exquisite patchwork sheet of deerskin that was his bedcover, careful as he disentangled a slumbering governess from his person.

With a slight shiver, he slid out of his bed as the early-morning chill rushed to embrace his naked form before he could drape a woollen blanket over his shoulders. With a weary sigh, he sought out the lidded chamberpot in an adjacent chamber, relieving himself before silently retreating to his bed, where he sat in contemplative silence.

"...What ails thee, My Lord?" Miss Jin, Javi's tutor, asked as she awoke to the sight of the ponderous earl. Her hands slid up Levi's back, curling around to cup his chest, her ample bosom pressing sensuously into his back.

"Tis nought," replied Levi, turning to face the woman and planting a tender kiss upon her lips. Brushing back strands of dark brown hair from her visage, he gazed into her eyes. "I am just being impatient," he said wearily. "No more."

"What troubles my Lord so?"

"Paltry issues, my dear," Levi replied with a small smile. "But pray, you appear radiant, m'lady. Hadst you a pleasant night?"

"Oh," giggled the governess, tracing circles upon his chest with her finger, her arm encircling his waist. "I did not reckon His Lordship to be boastful. But, aye. I did have a wonderful night."

"Verily, I trust you did," Levi said imperiously. "For it was I, the hedonistic deity of the rod and foreplay, Levi the Lance, who did sard you."

"Oh stop!" Miss Jin giggled again as she playfully slapped his chest, "That's the fifth line you've pilfered from Countess Leslie's tales."

Levi merely smiled, his eyes fixed upon hers. "Yet dost thou crave my sinful touch once more, young miss?" he murmured softly, his hand tracing her waist.

"How beastly, My Liege," whispered the governess, moving to restrain Levi's wandering hands, albeit reluctantly. "Oh, I wish we could," she sighed into his ears, "that you wouldst so deeply ravish me once more, but we mustn't. The young miss' class begins anon and I must prepare to make myself presentable."

"And what of the means?" she added with a sultry giggle. "It is not customary to possess a spare sheath(1), dost my beastly lord seek to defy yet another expectation of mine?"

"Nay. But thou present a solid argument, m'lady," Levi said, rubbing his chin in thought. mused Levi, stroking his chin. "I know not if the butcher hath more in store. Perchance I shall beseech him to fashion some before the week's end, for convenience's sake. But go, prepare for Javi's lesson. Though I wonder, might I once more be graced with thy presence this eve?"

"Of course, My Liege," giggled the governess. "Now, where do I get washed?"

"The chamber lieth yonder, and within does lie a wash basin," replied Levi. "In a few moments, servants shalt bring hot water and scented soap. Would you desire a change of garments? 'Tis easily arranged, even on such short notice."

"Aye, I would," replied the governess.

Levi smiled as Miss Jin made her way to the chamber with a light step. As promised, the servants brought in the bath water, bowing as they entered, and later, a fresh gown was delivered. Miss Jin dressed and bid her farewells a few minutes hence.

Soon thereafter, Levi bathed. In the dim light, he gazed upon his copper mirror, upon which the contours of his recently acquired muscular form vaguely reflected—a testament to his efforts at self-improvement. The room was silent as he sat in solitude. Though he oft found pleasure in the company of others―Miss Jin being a particularly enjoyable companion―nothing could truly replace the tranquillity brought by these moments of stillness, which grew ever rarer with each passing day.

Another bland repast came and went, devoured with the customary lack of enthusiasm; empty dishes were cleared away as the earl attended to his grooming.

Levi sighed, wringing what moisture he could from his unruly mass of black curls before laying his damp towel upon the table. In the next moment, his disheveled hair was bound neatly with a length of red yarn, and his slender frame was adorned with dark tunics and a fur cloak. Thus attired, he made his way to the Keep's hall, where Ser Lancelot's voice echoed faintly through the otherwise silent corridor.

"Good morrow, Robert," greeted Levi as he entered the hall, observing the butler conversing with his most trusted advisor. "Good morrow, Ser Lancelot. I trust all fared well this night?"

"Good morrow, My Lord," Robert replied tersely.

"'Tis indeed a fair morrow," added Lancelot with a hint of jest. "But who knew my daughter's governess could appear so sprightly? I must thank you, and trust you didst enjoy a pleasant eve."

Levi arched a brow, a glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Dost thou not fear for thy household, dear viscount?"

"What do you mean, My Lord?" inquired Lancelot, perplexed.

"My," exclaimed the earl with a touch of pity, "should Lady Junita learn of this, she may well divorce thee and seek solace in my arms. It would be a great tragedy if, by some chance—an accident, of course—I caused my most dependable viscount to lose his young wife in his twilight years. Should that happen, the people would curse me behind my back, famous writers would smear my name, and many a great bard would sing of me as a deplorable beast. Yet it would be unjust to blame me for your apparent dearth. Or would it not, my dear viscount?"

Lancelot chortled, while the Steward observed with mild amusement. "I appreciate thy concern, young lord, but 'tis needless. I am more than sufficient in that regard."

"Indeed," nodded Levi in a consoling manner. "Keep telling thyself so. Yet another warning unheeded. A pity ... Shall we depart, then?"

Lancelot laughed. "Of course, My Liege."

…

Levi drew a long breath, the wintry mist swirling as he steadied the crude iron sights of his musket. His right arm firm, he aimed at the distant dummy target, about fifty paces away, before closing his eyes and squeezing the trigger. With a thunderous boom, the gun kicked back into his shoulder, sending a bluish cloud of smoke billowing into the air.

Opening his eyes, Levi watched as the mist dissipated before a chilling gust from his left. The target remained untouched in the distance.

"By how much did I err?" Levi inquired, adjusting his coat against the chill.

"About a hand's breadth to the left, My Lord," Lancelot replied, rubbing his gloved hands together as he inspected the target.

Levi nodded, reloading the weapon. He exhaled, his breath forming a misty veil before him. Taking aim once more, he fired again; the recoil jarring his shoulder. The ensuing smoke was swept away by the wind, revealing a battered straw dummy at the far end of the range. It lay in ruins alongside a dozen others.

"Sixteen shots to down ten targets at fifty paces," Levi remarked with satisfaction, "an improvement from yesterday."

"Aye, my lord, it is," Lancelot agreed. "Perhaps one day, you shall achieve a perfect score of ten in ten."

"I doubt it," Levi said. "These guns are too imprecise in their current state. Perhaps when we have more resources, we could rifle the barrels."

"You wield what may be the mightiest weapon a single man can bear in Udoris," Lancelot shook his head, "and still, you seek more?"

"What can I say," Levi gestured towards Javi, who approached with a skip in her step, "I am not a man easily satisfied."

"Wow!" the girl exclaimed as she reached them, giggling. "That was amazing!"

"Done with your morning studies?" Levi asked, tousling her hair.

"Aye!" Javi replied eagerly, eyeing the musket in his hands. "May I hold it, please?" She asked, avoiding her father's disapproving gaze.

"Of course," the earl replied, seemingly unaware as Lancelot shot him a reproachful look. "Anything for my little princess."

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"I'm not sure that's wise―"

"Relax, old man," Levi interjected, handing the weapon to Javi. "She won't be firing it; she merely wishes to see it. Isn't that right, Javi?"

"I won't?" she said, but quickly corrected herself, glancing sideways at her father as she accepted the gun. "Ah, I mean, aye! I won't!"

"Good," Levi said, passing the weighty gun to her slender arms.

"It's... quite heavy," the girl grunted, her face flushing with exertion as she struggled to hold it steady.

"Aye," Levi nodded sagely. "Indeed it is."

"You didn't mention it was heavy."

"No, I did not."

Exasperated, Lancelot rolled his eyes at Levi. "If it's too much, you can return it," he told his daughter.

"Nay," Javi insisted, despite her struggle. "Nay, I'll manage."

"We're heading back to the Keep," Lancelot announced calmly. "And His Lordship intends to stop by the barracks. Still fine with that weight, Javi?"

Javi froze, a tense silence settling over them. She looked from the musket to Levi, who grinned knowingly. Realizing her predicament, Javi swallowed hard, her eyes wide.

"...Er," she coughed awkwardly, "here, father, take it back. I've seen enough."

"Are you sure?" Levi teased a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You could hold onto it a bit longer, you know."

"Nay," Javi replied, shaking her head vigorously, handing the musket back. "I'm fine."

The two men chuckled as the embarrassed girl stomped away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Bullies," she muttered under her breath.

"Hear that? Levi's bullying my daughter," Lancelot joked, unable to contain his laughter.

"Would you prefer I bully you instead?" Levi quipped. "I still have plenty of paperwork that could use your attention."

"More?" Lancelot raised an eyebrow.

"Aye, drafted a few days ago," Levi nodded. "Similar to our previous discussions on Faywyn and Mallowston, but focusing on community-wide waterworks and drainage systems before next winter."

"Is it truly necessary, my lord?"

"Not immediately, given our current workload," Levi admitted. "But it's worth considering. The towns get muddy in spring and unbearable in summer; I'd prefer not to deal with the smell again."

"I see," Lancelot nodded. "Well then, enjoy, My Liege. She's all yours."

Levi clicked his tongue. "Father of the year, indeed."

"Some things are inevitable," Lancelot chuckled. "She's your betrothed; I can't protect her from you forever. Might as well let her get used to it now. On another note, about that paperwork you sent..."

"...Ah, yes, the army hierarchical systems?" Levi interrupted, keeping an eye on Javi as she disappeared down the path. Lancelot nodded. "We can discuss it later; it's quite complex."

"I imagine so," Lancelot agreed. "Though I'm more concerned about funding an army of that size."

"It'll sort itself out as the army grows," Levi dismissed. "Taxation, levied towns, and conflict settlements will fund it. Ironically, only a large enough army can enforce these measures."

"I see," Lancelot murmured, a sombre realization dawning. "Towleigh?"

"The first of many."

"To fund an army like that would require a chain of ransoms beyond measure," Lancelot remarked.

"Don't call it ransom money," Levi chuckled. "It's taxes. You make it sound like I am some brutal, warmongering, Luscan chieftain. No, it would require an unending chain of ransoms beyond measure, not ransoms."

"Why?" Lancelot asked, puzzled.

"Why not?"

...

The duo proceeded in an unusual silence, with the viscount lost in deep thought and his lord enjoying the tranquil stroll. It wasn't long before they arrived at the vicinity of the barracks, where the scant layer of snow that should have blanketed the clearing was mostly trampled into a muddy mess. In the training area, formations of crossbowmen and a handful of musketeers honed their accuracy and coordination respectively. Artillery crews, under the command of the recently reinstated Master Gunner, Ser Turiel, practised their shots. Logistics support and reconnaissance units drilled on horseback, while pikemen stood in formation, their pikes held high like a forest of sharp spears. Clad in a mix of helmets, greaves, vambraces, and simple cuirasses or mail, their faces were stern as they awaited their trainers' commands.

"Shoulder arms!" commanded the trainer, Ser Liam, a former bannerman of the Heras. The pikemen obeyed, lowering their pikes to rest on their shoulders. The tall knight strode around the ranks of pikemen, eagle-eyed for any irregularities in the formation. Levi observed with amusement as the stern gaze of the trainer happened upon him, freezing momentarily before stumbling in anxiety. "At attention!" Ser Liam ordered, his voice wavering slightly as he approached the earl, the pikemen standing rigid behind him.

"...My Lord," the man greeted with a forced smile, "you're here?"

"Hmm," Levi snorted as he passed by the uneasy knight, "am I? Didn't realize that…"

The knight cast a glance at Lancelot before mustering another strained smile and following the earl.

"How are the pikemen progressing?" Levi inquired as he walked towards the militia ranks.

"Quite well, Your Lordship," Ser Liam replied. "They have mastered the pike drill and can execute it as a full company. However, the more complex formations you described, involving multiple companies, still need some work. Also, we're still facing stamina issues, but the men can at least perform basic formations with reasonable cohesion and competence."

"...Good," Levi acknowledged before beckoning over one of the riders in the distance. The horseman, another former Hera bannerman, approached and turned to face the earl with a similarly strained smile. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Let me borrow your horse," Levi requested, gesturing towards the reins.

"...Yes, My Lord."

"Take care, My Lord," Lancelot cautioned as Levi mounted the stirrups of the borrowed horse.

The earl turned, guiding the horse slowly along the edges of the pike formation. In silence.

"...The mounted knight," Levi proclaimed suddenly, his gaze sweeping across the faces below him, "is a formidable foe indeed. With superior mobility and battlespace awareness, fighting from horseback grants height, speed, and power over any opponent on foot. Cavalrymen excel at running down routed forces, raiding enemy territory, and scouting. However, they have one fatal weakness."

The pike formation, almost instinctively, leaned forward, their polearms shifting from upright to combat-ready positions. Levi smiled as he circled his horse around the formation, the lethal tips of the pikes bristling just metres from his waist. "But, the cavalry's weakness is an enemy disciplined, cohesive, and fearless. Behold, men, a sight seldom seen. No mounted knight, let alone one on foot, would dare challenge a mass of spears, especially one as disciplined as yours.

"Some may doubt my words, fearing the vulnerability of a pike formation to a lone assailant with a dagger. But I assure you, as long as you obey orders, trust your comrades, and stand firm, no one can breach your ranks. Your pikes are seven meters long, and your ranks are five men deep. Do you truly believe a lone man with a blade can penetrate this defence? Do you truly believe any one man can outwit you and all four men behind you?"

Levi guided his horse for another pass. "Some may argue about archers, but I say again, you each bear on your left arm a round shield seven inches across crafted from light, dense ash. It is capable of stopping an arrow from a longbow fired at point-blank range. If used wisely, you are nearly invulnerable. So, why am I telling you this?"

The earl reined in his horse, coming to a dramatic stop at the front of the formation. "I have invested too much in you to witness your lives squandered. Trust, obedience, and unwavering discipline are imperative for each and every one of you to survive," he proclaimed, turning to address the silent observers. "Bards and drunkards may glorify the man who perishes in service of his lord. I, however, exhort you to ensure it is the enemy who meets their end in service of their lord. Do not fail me."

The empty field remained eerily quiet as the earl dismounted, leaving the barracks with the viscount and his daughter in tow.