89 The strongest knight.

Just a few days after the news spread through the castle, I was leaning by the comfortable chair, massaging the root of my nose with a frown, as I kept the quiet mutter going. The council room was dead quiet and I knew they all pushed their personal disagreements aside. 

Branco's quick hand scribbled down every word I said as I kept dictating all the orders without a single break. My empty stomach made me even more grouchy, but I was too engaged in my plans. It was all about strategy. Nothing more. 

Preparation to feed and equip this insane amount of soldiers who joined the military draft on top of those who were called to fulfill their duty almost doubled our numbers, I even had to ban those who had no brothers or children to come along. 

I never would have imagined that so many men would want to fight by my side. 

It was seven years since the coronation and I could tell that the royal family gained much greater power since I ascended the throne. Mine and Valleria's tiny portraits on wood circles were sold on the market among other trinkets. 

I knew that the obedience of my vassals was not unconditional, but depending on their ability to feed their children, together with maintaining the safety of their own family.

A simple request I had to fulfill. .

"Beacons like this, my Lord?" Gregory interrupted me and I opened my eyes to gaze at his drawing. 

"Yes, exactly. On all the locations I mentioned earlier. Prepare the construction material up front, we will leave it on the sites during our moves, to be able to communicate quickly with the capitol." I nodded, pleased that this man took my suggestions and perfected them in such a short time. 

His rich experiences were truly a blessing in these times and I valued his help, even when he was a simple carpenter with a harsh language and trembling, wrinkled hands.

The proud expression on his face let me know how much he appreciated my approval.

"Where was I?" My eyes slid to Branko's notes, looking for a hint.

"The archers, Your Majesty," he quickly tapped on the paper, leaning in and reading out laud his last few words.

"True. The troops' distribution," I closed my eyes again to be able to imagine the sizes and positioning of the soldiers, but had to stop the moment someone barged in the council hall. 

I was more than annoyed, until I noticed who was it. 

Martin, marching towards the table with two soldiers trying to slow him down. He was covered in sweat and dust, with his hair greasy and falling into his eyes, when I realized he managed to arrive in mere four days after he got the order to come. 

"Your Majesty, I came on your command. Ready to serve," he knelt by my left, with head lower than needed.

"Did your horse have to die, to carry you here so quickly?" I asked, honestly curious about his answer. 

"Hopefully not, I let some boy walk him and rub him dry just a moment ago, I have to return him, he wasn't mine to kill," Martin replied, still breathless.

He grew even taller in these four years of his forceful training I put him under, and I could tell he ate for two the whole time. I couldn't help but recognize his growth, both mental and physical. He was no longer the clumsy overgrown kid I once threw over my head. Finally, he became a man I could entrust with her protection.