The Fall of Lucca was complete in a week after the decisive victory of Sir Felix. The Blockade at the coast prevented fresh supplies of men and food, and the ransom demanded for the return of Sir Ruggiero was frankly, ruinous, at over fifty thousand gold Ducats. The good Duke never had any intention of collecting the King’s ransom he charged of course, it was just the stick he used to beat the Council of Lucca with, a stick that only existed because Ruggiero was no mere mercenary Captain in the city’s employ, he was the son of the Doge. So, Duke Felix offered the city a second option, in lieu of the ransom, they could bend the knee to the Emperor and swear fealty to the Empire as a whole.

It was underhanded for sure but it came with benefits too, all free men would be granted full citizenship with guilds empowered as full Imperial Guilds with marks granted to replace their Vallarese ones, all the Masters would still be considered masters throughout the Empire, and Lucca would be established as an Electoral Duchy as the first to comply with the reintegration of the Vallarese to the Empire. The Emperor himself came to welcome the city in to the Empire and grant the nobility new titles within their new peerage. The only hint that anything would change was when the Doge put his hands between the Emperor’s and was named a Councillor. The Emperor then named one of his own great lords, Graf Heinrich von Mehren, as the new Grand Duke of Lucca. Men grumbled, but the victory of the Empire was complete and none could disagree.

All of this was far away for Sir Edward who held a small court within the fortified military camp just outside the city proper that housed most of the victorious mercenary army. He had a new pavilion and was in the process of arranging the return of his captives to their home city, a singularly thankless task as no man likes to pay gold for his own freedom. As a sign of good will to the acerbic Sir Matteo, Edward returned the knight’s horse and arms at no cost, though he happily pocketed the thousand gold ducats the man paid for his ransom. It was curious to the young knight as he sat on his saddle outside his new tent and sewed a tear in his arming cote with a good steel needle, with his two squires nearby polishing his harness and a dozen archers and men at arms and numerous camp followers all around, that they had heard no word of where the campaign would go next.

So far as any had heard, Sir Felix was in the process of organising a celebratory Tournament, and the Companies were mostly left to their own devices. The veterans were adamant it meant the war was cooling off and there would be no work either until hostilities rose again or the Emperor got more money, rumour had it that the banks had stopped their flow to the Emperor and he would be unable to finance a continuation of the war for a year at least. It was about this that Edward at least knew a little more than most men, he knew that the von Rabsburgs had been financing the better part of the war for the last year and were planning to continue to do so, though it was done to increase their chances of being elected when the Emperor died.

It was a day after the Empire’s investiture of the city when a messenger from the Emperor’s staff found Edward in camp. The boy handed over a collection of writs and scrolls that conferred on him his promised lands as a Landgraf of the Empire, roughly the equivalent of a Viscount of Arturia. It was a generous grant, Sir Edward read the documents carefully with an eye born of being raised amongst the Haut Noblesse of the world. He was granted the title of Landgraf in direct service to the Haus von Bludden, and in turn was granted the province of Schwarzberg. It was a verdant area along the western coast consisting of a single dark mountain, three villages, six hamlets, a manor house and a small keep that could almost be called a castle. Edward was now a Lord in his own right, not simply by virtue of his birth.

The messenger brought a letter signed by the Emperor, though doubtless written out by one of his equerries, and it ordered Edward to attend his new lands and install himself and any minor government he saw fit within it.

It took a further two days to arrange a meeting with Sir Felix, but he was a busy man, holding his own separate court in a rented palace inside the city’s walls. His audience chamber was rather like a throne room, even his chair could be considered a throne, on a raised dais with a fortune in silk and fur lining it for comfort. The great knight himself was dressed in a profusion of maroon silk and a gold coronet on his head to denote his rank as a Duke of the Empire.

Sir Edward approached slowly and made his reverence down on one knee to his commander, and Sir Felix rose to raise the young knight with his own hands, a gesture of great approval and welcome. Felix smiled as he met the young man’s eyes and called for a chair and wine to be brought for his friend.

“I hear you plan to leave us Sir Edward,” Duke Felix said as Edward was seated and given his cup of win in a cup of fine Luccan green glass.

“Shouldn’t be for more than a few weeks, a month at the outside your Grace,” Sir Edward spoke carefully, Felix seemed unphased but great lords, even those as easy going as Felix, could be touchy about perceived slights of loyalty, “I just need to visit my new lands and get things organised for the transition of power,” he met his friend’s eyes, “I’d like to spend some time and raise a few lances there, if you’ll have room for me as a Captain when we move south,” he had no idea where the words or the idea had come from, but once spoken he knew they were true. Sir Edward loved Sir Clement and being his standard bearer and corporal were both great honours, but he wanted more.

Sir Felix raised a brow in surprise but nodded, “by all accounts you did well at the fort when given command, I doubt we’ll see more action this year, the Empire needs time to solidify its hold on Lucca, but I am going to need to keep an army in the field, come back with thirty lances, and I’ll try you,” Edward nodded in understanding and rose once more after his drank off the last of his wine, with a bow to his commander he left.

It didn’t take long for Sir Edward to arrange his transport. He bought a new riding horse for his newest squire; William, and he arranged an escort of four lances drawn from the camp as the usual change in employment following a large victory began. Several captains were retiring, and their companies were splitting up to find employment elsewhere, Edward jumped on the opportunity and signed on the four lances he intended to travel with and paid up front for another dozen to sit tight in camp until he returned. It meant he only need to raise a further fourteen to meet the indenture that Duke Felix had offered him, less if he could turn Murk into a capable man at arms in his own right on the trip to Schwarzberg.

With two wagons of supplies they rolled out of camp as the sun was cresting the horizon on the fourth day. Their hearts were high and Sir Edward could not escape feeling the youthful exhilaration of a new adventure, his first independent command with no support from a veteran knight like Sir Richard or Sir Clement, this journey was all on him and how he led these men.

Such thoughts soon took a bow to more pressing concerns as the seeds of greater ideas began to plant themselves in the mind of the young knight. The short column came upon Siegesstand in two days of comfortable travel and at their Captain’s order, a small camp was erected outside the walls, the great mud flat that had housed the mercenaries before Sir Felix moved them out, had already begun to grow over, tall grass blanketing it in a lush series of greens and yellows. Edward stayed mounted as he observed the process of his tent rising and the men dug a firepit, “I’ll be in the fortress for a while, Gerald, you’re in charge until I return, see about getting them all fed, we could be here a few days,” the master archer gave a salute before turning back to his work, “Murk, keep an eye on Gerald, William you’re with me,” Edward finished his orders and headed for the gatehouse with a scroll in hand.

The sergeant at the gate raised a brow at the rags worn by William, and Edward had to admit that even engulfed in his knight’s cloak, the boy’s poverty advertised itself. He looked like a rag picker, and he smelled offensive from a dozen feet away, but of course, that was why Edward had brought him. The young Lord’s passport was signed by Duke Felix and the Emperor, the sergeant was forced to bow him into the burgeoning city.

Siegesstand had changed in the months Edward had been gone. New shops lined the more central streets while the outer lanes held residences for those who were carving out a living in the new frontier of the Empire. It was a phenomenon that he had noted in every city he had ever visited, that like clung to like. Each square seemed dedicated to one or a small collection of professions that related to each other, and in the first they stopped, the Square of Tailors and Drapers.

Edward quickly bought several yards of a beautiful black wool and more of crisp white linen, he loaded young William’s arms with the finery and led him from one shop to another. The young squire cringed, doing his best to hold the heavy pile away from his body to avoid getting it dirty. They entered a tailor’s once Edward thought he had enough, and William was blown away to discover that the fabrics were for him. The tailor measured the boy with no complaint or outward sign that he could smell the little urchin, and Edward laid out the order. William would receive three pairs of hose, an arming cote, three long woollen gowns, two doublets, five shirts and braes and a pair of cotehardies, all in his new Lord’s colours and bearing his fleur de lys badge.

It didn’t end with the clothes either, next came the cobblers where he was fitted for two pairs of fighting shoes and a pair of boots, then he was taken to a leatherworker to buy a fashionably thin belt in blood red leather, which they delivered to a jeweller who mounted the belt end in brass and covered the length in rivets in the shape of Edward’s badge, they had a second made for Murk as well.

Finally they stopped at the square of armourers and cutlers, and Sir Edward lead his tongue-tied new squire unerringly towards the shop of Master Piotr. It was almost exactly as it had been when Edward had first walked through the doors, so many months ago. A simple room of well cut boards, separated from the workshop with a heavy curtain that helped to deaden the cacophony that came from the anvils and yelled curses that echoed from the multitude of apprentices at their work. A new first year apprentice was minding the shop when they entered, an ingenious little brass bell over the doorway chimed to announce Sir Edward’s arrival as his high boots hit the floorboards.

The boy at the desk came forward and bowed deeply, it was clear from the stiff set of his shoulders and the uncertainty in his face that he did not know Edward, but the gold belt and fine clothes were enough to make him assume he was in the presence of a great lord, and erring on the side of caution was always the best course for an apprentice, “sele of the day to you my lord, how may I be of assistance?” The boy said.

Edward inclined his head politely as he looked towards the raised plinth where his own measurements had been taken, “I need to speak to Master Piotr if you’d be so kind as to fetch him,” despite the wording, it was an order and the boy rushed to obey, leaving Edward and his silent squire waiting. Edward had watched all afternoon as the boy’s unease and fear grew, he was waiting, he knew, for the moment when it would finally break down the young lad’s barriers of courtly behaviour and social niceties.

The moment came as Sir Edward looked at a new sword, a good long sword in shining steel with a gilded hilt, the boy finally spoke, “my lord, forgive me, but I can not pay for this, nor can I afford the debt!” It was clear that fear held the reins on the young squire as the words erupted far more fiercely than he intended, effectively shouting across the room. Sir Edward’s eyebrow shot up above his right eye as he turned the full force of his Captain’s glare on young William. It was as though he had had a bucket of water thrown over his head, William’s own words registered, and he fell to his knee in front of his lord, “forgive my rudeness my lord,” he begged, a terrified sob at the very edge of his voice now.

Edward was many things, but a cruel lord was not one of them, at least he hoped it wasn’t, he raised the boy with his own hands and placed his palms on William’s shoulders, “I was wondering when you’d speak up,” he offered the lad a smile, “I don’t expect you to pay for any of this, but as my squire the way you dress reflects on me, what’s more, if you don’t have armour suitable, you’ll end up dead on one battlefield or another, and I won’t have the chance to turn you into the knight you could be,” shock was written all over William’s features and Edward knew it was time to take some pity on the boy, he eased himself into a chair with a sigh and gestured to another for William while they waited, “do you know why I took you as my squire?”

The boy shook his head in silence, the shock of his own good fortune still evident and writ large on his face, “you brought me water while I was still arguably almost on the front line of a fight, I was wounded and you were unarmed and unarmoured, and yet you put your body to the hazard because you thought you could help, and despite this and despite my promise of such, you sought no reward,” Sir Edward made sure the boy would meet his eye, “that is knightly, the very example of chivalry I wish to see set,” he allowed a small smile to turn the corners of his lips, “when your master was killed and the camp had seemingly forgotten you, you didn’t resort to thievery or ignoble acts, even though that in your position most of us, and I include myself in this, would have and received no judgement, you sought to serve, so perhaps my clothing and outfitting you is simply a good trade for a cup of water when I desperately needed it,” Edward finished just as Master Piotr stepped through the hangings.

“That is well said my lord,” the master armourer said with a deep bow, Sir Edward rose and returned the bow in kind.

“You’re far too kind Master Piotr,” Edward gestured his new squire forward and with his hand on William’s shoulder he spoke again, “this is my newest squire, William, I’d like to have him outfitted with a new harness, brigandine for his body and a longsword, dagger and spear, beyond that I’d like a moment of your time and to see if young Konrad is at leisure?” Master Piotr’s brow rose.

“For you my lord, I’m sure he’d be free, just a moment.”

In the time it took to say a short prayer William was standing on the dais having his measurements taken by a pair of second year apprentices, and Edward was ensconced by a low table with Master Piotr and Konrad. They hunched over in the small space as Sir Edward laid out his plans, “Konrad, your skill with steel is exemplary, and I think your master would agree that you’re more than ready to have your own forge,” Edward looked for confirmation and Master Piotr nodded sadly.

“Aye, you’re not wrong there, he’s been ready for at least the last two years,” Piotr agreed.

“My Master is very kind, but my lord, the Guild only grants licences to Masters, and I’m saving for it, but best guess is another five years before I can afford to take the tests required, the Guild masters require a donation to be paid before they’ll even consider someone,” Konrad answered with a look of dejected misery. Edward turned his gaze to Piotr.

“If he took the tests would he pass?”

“Without question my lord, but the money is just too much, I’d have paid it myself if I could, but the guild is as corrupt as they come these days,” Piotr shook his head, but Edward nodded.

“If I were to foot the bill for your exam, and then pay to set up a new forge, would you consider coming with me to my new holdings in the Empire and working exclusively for my new company?” Edward baited his hook and waited as both men looked up in shock, “I have a plan to build a school of sorts, but I will need a fairly constant supply of arms and armour, if you would allow me to pay for your Master’s Exam, and if Piotr here would allow you to take some of the apprentices with us, I would pay you a generous salary, and if things work out, I will even offer to pay the donation for any young apprentice you train who you think have what it takes, say one per year?” Master Piotr already had his wax tablet out and was scribbling with a stylus.

“You can have three of the second years, I think Hans, Jochen and Mathias, good lads who will work hard, and of the first years take a dozen of your own choosing, my lord, if you would do this for Konrad, please allow me to offer my own services to you, should you ever need them again, and not a copper will I take for the work,” Edward smiled and bowed his head.

“You are far too generous Master Piotr, if you would see my squire to a full harness and let me at least pay for some of it, I would be forever in your debt.”

More pleasantries passed before Sir Edward left the confines of the Armourers with his squire in tow, the boy looking proud as a lion with his new sword and dagger belted at his hips. Konrad would sit his Master’s exam the following day and they would begin pulling together a supply convoy for them to leave the day after, by the end of the week, Edward would have everything he needed.

A week after their arrival in Siegesstand, Sir Edward and his column rolled out with a dozen wagons and a tail of new hires. In his time he collected sempters and seamstresses, leatherworkers and cutlers, and a small herd of remounts from the horse markets. The newly named, Master Konrad, had a half dozen wagons of his own loaded down with tools and materials and his small coterie of promised apprentices. The armourer was puffed like a viper with his new Master’s mark dangling from an iron chain around his neck, it made Edward smile to see it, the young man looked like a knight with his chain and there was no small amount of deference paid to him by those in the column, even the men at arms recognised that he was one of their lord’s men and treated him with the appropriate amount of respect.

Two days of hiring and buying materials had brought Edward to the realisation that his column would be too large for his four lances to protect, and so he had sent for the dozen he had left at Lucca. They made a brave show in their mix of poor armour and rusted helms, each man received a long black surcoat to cover the worst before they left, and Konrad spent time with each man and Edward discussing what could be done in the interim to improve their harness.

Edward was pleased to find that most were happy to sacrifice five of their twenty ducats a month to have their harness refurbished, on the condition they served for at least a year. After all it only equated to sixty ducats and that was less than half of what a full harness would cost if they were to buy it themselves.

He didn’t stop just with their harness either, men received fabric and the tailors who came with them sat in the wagon beds during the day and worked. Each man at arms received a new arming cote in company black, two gowns for special occasions and two suits of new clothes in the latest Imperial Fashion, long cotehardies and tight cut hose that showed off the muscle of a fighter’s legs. The archer’s received the same without the gowns and so did the squires. Each page got a well-cut jupon and new shirts with the company arms worked into the collars and cuffs.

A fortune was spent on them before they had ever fought as a company and in all respects, they now resembled a Lord’s Retinue more than a company of mercenaries. The men wore their new colours proudly, and a young man-at-arms; Thomas Blackmore, held aloft the new banner as Edward’s personal standard bearer, it bore seven golden stars on a field of black, and it shone in silken splendour in the afternoon sun as they finally rolled into Schwarzberg, two weeks after leaving Siegesstand.

Green fields rolled away from them in every direction, the north looked like a patchwork quilt as crops of wheat and rye and a dozen other grains and vegetables basked in the sun, while to the south smoke could be seen curling from chimneys from three hamlets that could be seen from the raised vantage point of the road. Sir Edward breathed in the warm summer air with a contented sigh, “it’s beautiful,” he said, and his squires and officers gave a chorus of ayes, “We’ll make for the keep and get installed there, I’ll arrange billets then, but should be plenty of room for us all there,” he got a round of nods and seemingly without a signal his riding horse stepped off and the column continued its roll towards his new castle.

Castle was perhaps too grand a word for the small fortification. The inner keep itself was a tall, square structure of good grey stone, undoubtedly from the mountain they could see to the south, but the encircling walls were wooden constructs that Edward knew would need to be replaced in time. The outbuildings were in a state of disrepair, and it made sense as this land hadn’t known the touch of war in near on fifty years, not since the Emperor’s father had put down a revolt by his contumacious vassal, Lord von Schaften. All such thoughts fell away from Sir Edward as he approached the gate, this place was now his, a castle for his very own, and he was not so mature at the ripe old age of sixteen to be immune to the giddiness it brought on to know he was now a Lord of the Empire and master of these lands in his own right by writ of the Emperor himself.

The sally port in the main gate opened enough to allow two men to step forward, each dressed in well oiled mail and wearing the Imperial Red of Haus von Bludden. One raised a hand and called to the column, “halt, and state your name and business in his Imperial Majesties lands,” Edward, not entirely lost to his boyish joy, eased back on the reins of his riding horse and raised a hand to call his column to a halt.

“I am Sir Edward de Marche, Landgraf of Schwarzberg, I have come to install my court and take possession of my lands by order of his Imperial Majesty himself,” he answered. William rode forward on his own new riding horse and handed over the sauvegardes that they had been granted, signed by the Emperor and Duke Felix. The sergeant passed the sheaf of parchment through the sally port and a better armoured man stepped through after a short pause, he wore a tall plume on his helm and bowed deeply to Edward.

“Welcome to your castle my lord,” the armoured man said, “I am Sir Hannekin, I was tasked with holding this area until you arrived, my sergeants and I are at your disposal until you wish to dismiss us.”

“Thank you Sir Hannekin, if you would be so kind, we’ve been on the road for some days and my men and horses would love a restful evening,” Sir Edward responded in kind with a bow from his saddle.

It took the better part of an hour to have every man and woman inside the curtain walls, and then to have all of their armour stowed and oiled correctly in the small armoury building. There were some old bits and pieces from previous lordship within the building, mostly rusted and food for moths, but Konrad declared that it would suit and with his apprentices, he set to restoring the racks and putting his materials away, it would be the base of operations for their new forge, an open aired workshop opened off one side and the old forge was immediately cleaned and relit.

Within the keep itself, bales of straw were brought in and the men of the new company were given places in what would have been the great hall to make their beds. Edward found a suite of rooms on the second floor. It was built as a series of three with only one entry to the rest of the keep, and it was divided into an antechamber, an office and finally the private chamber for Sir Edward to call his own. He only had a pile of straw himself, but he was sure there would be a way to acquire a mattress from the surrounds and a proper bed.

Sir Hannekin had only a half dozen sergeants with him, all well trained with reasonable armour, but they were feudal militia at best, just slightly wealthier than those Edward had seen in Arturia. For all that, they were good men and Edward saw them fed from his Company stores on that first evening in the castle when Hannekin handed over the keys. They sat together in the courtyard where the archers had built up a large fire using debris from some of the buildings they had found scattered.

“Apologies for the state of the place my lord, me and the lads tried to clean it up a bit, but it’s a big job for seven men when three are always on guard rotations,” Sir Hannekin said.

“I was told the place has sat unused for some years, it’s honestly in better condition than I was expecting, there’s no need for apologies Sir Hannekin,” Edward looked the man up and down, “where will you go after this?” he asked the older knight, somewhat abruptly, but if it irked him to be questioned, Hannekin showed no sign.

“I’m not sure my lord, I thought I’d ride back to Bludden and see if they’ll take me on as a captain there.”

“If you’re at liberty, I would consider taking you on as my Steward for these lands,” Edward offered, “I will need to return to the front near Lucca soon, and you seem to me a trustworthy knight.” Edward knew he had judged his man right when he saw the shocked look cross Hannekin’s face and Edward knew in an instant that this was a knight who may not be the deepest thinker, but he was loyal once bought and could be trusted to stay bought for his wages, “It will be simple work all told,” Edward began again, “oversee the horse herd I’ll be breeding here and the livestock, ensure my training programs take hold and implement my law across the province, and lastly,” Edward took a long sip of his wine, “keep the lances I bring here working, patrolling and training until I send for them, his Grace wants to hire me for thirty lances, but I’ll be building a reserve here, outfitting and training them, you will oversee all of this with men I employ to see it done, do this and I’ll grant you one of the hamlets as your own knight’s fee.”

Sir Hannekin put his hands between Edward’s and swore on the spot, and for the first time in his life, Sir Edward played the role of a great lord.

The following morning as men rose, Edward found Gerald in the courtyard, “Gerald, I need you to take a letter for me, to Arturia,” the Archer looked incredulous.

“Beggin’ your pardon my lord, but that’s a mighty long ride and not the safest for one man,” Gerald may not have been a gentleman but he wasn’t stupid either.

“I need this letter to reach my grandfather, Duke Eric of Bordeaux, if you do this for me Gerald you will be rewarded in a way no archer has ever been rewarded,” Edward said.

“That’s a mighty lord, you sure you don’t want a knight?” he asked.

“No, you’ll travel faster, take two spare riding horses and ride like all the demons of the Nether are chasing you,” Edward informed him and Gerald spat on the ground in superstitious fear.

“Alri’ Sir Edward,” the archer said finally and received a clap on the shoulder and a handful of parchments.

“You won’t be returning alone, get through this first ride and the rest is easy.”

With his greater plans taken care of, Sir Edward set to work on establishing his hold on the greater Schwarzberg region. A patrol of two lances was on the roads at all times, while the archers shot at freshly made archery butts and the men at arms trained in a newly sanded tiltyard. The great knight himself seemed to be every where and he boiled with energy, every morning he trained in harness and swaggered a wooden waster against the pell, or sparred with his men, or jousted. Then he would be with Sir Hannekin and the Headmen and Women of the surrounding villages as charters were written by a dozen scribes to issue his new law to the land. After those meetings he would be in more with local farmers who he employed to raise his herds and merchants he brought in, to contract to sell his wares.

The parchment millers made a fortune off the new Landgraf as letters were sent to and from the new province and men from every surrounding lord came to get the measure of the new man. He never seemed to tire, and he made it look effortless as he dealt with every man fairly and justly, just as he had been taught by his father and grandfather in their own lordships.

This was not lost on his own men at arms who threw themselves into their own training out of love for their new Captain. The complaints were minimal and they had to admit that they were well looked after. Sir Edward held their first pay parade at the end of the first week at Schwarzberg, and every man got his share, as well as a cup of wine served by the captain with his own hands. Men were fed and received their new clothes and armour, each would be taken to the armoury that now rang to the bells of four great hammers and the oppressive heat of the forge covered the workshop like a weighted blanket, once in Konrad’s care they were measured and had repairs or replacements for everything.

Every man at arms received a new single piece, hardened steel breast and backplate with good sabatons for their feet and gauntlets for their hands. Arm and leg harnesses were inspected and if found wanting, replaced with steel. The squires received new brigandines in parti-colour argent and sable leather, with fine steel rivets that shone like silver flowers on their breasts.

The surcoats and jupons and matched arming cotes were run up in record time in good Arturian wool and the whole of the sixteen lances currently on hand were forged into a cohesive unit, looking more and more like a Lord’s retinue rather than an assortment of mercenaries. Men couldn’t believe their luck at having found a captain who saw value in them as more than just a willing sword. They began to write letters, or pay the literate men to do so for them, sending word to friends and comrades who needed work, just as Sir Edward told them they should.

It was three weeks later that Gerald led a new column through the gates with even more men. A dozen men-at-arms all in the newest and most modern armour money could buy, with the golden belts and spurs of knights, clad in liveried surcoats that bore the arms of Bordeaux quartered with those of Sir Edward led in perhaps fifty lances of equally liveried retinue archers, men at arms and squires.

At the head of these men was a knight Sir Edward knew, Sir Guillaume d’Oze, once his grandfather’s standard bearer. He stood a good handspan taller than Edward and had the athletic physique of the truly trained knight. A man who had been born to a life of arms and practiced chivalry in every aspect of his life. He pressed his breastplate to his saddle and slithered to the ground, his spurs ringing off the cobbles like a church bell, to kneel before Edward, “your grandfather sends us with his best wishes,” Edward raised Guillaume with his own hands, “my lord, the Duke says, you are on the right path, he wishes for myself and five of my compatriots to follow you to the front while the others remain here to help you build what you see, each is an accomplished master of a different weapon form and will bring an array of skills to this school of chivalry,” Sir Edward smiled to hear it called such.

“I’m glad the Duke approves,” he answered with unfeigned gratitude, “get your men settled and sort who will accompany us to the front, I am only contracted for thirty lances, so pick your fourteen best to join my others, the rest will stay here and train until Duke Felix allows me a larger contract, will you become my Marshal sir Guillaume?” Edward asked, and he was rewarded with a dazzling smile like the sun cresting the far horizon.

“Of course my lord, I am your man now,” Sir Guillaume answered.

“Excellent, then stay by me one moment,” Sir Edward turned his eyes back to the milling crowd until he found Gerald sitting his horse with tired and slumped shoulders, “Gerald!” He cried out, “get over here and kneel,” all heads turned at those words as Gerald limped towards his captain and fell to his knees, Edward frowned as he realised the man had been hurt and he saw the cut in his hose and the clean linen bandage beneath them, “birth ennobles, but nothing ennobles like the life of arms, a hundred miles through unknown territory, on your own is a hazard few men could master, you went three times that, and return to me as promised, now that is a deed that I would call knightly,” Edward drew his longsword and raised it so the blade caught the late afternoon light, “I call on all these witnesses here to listen as I name you knight,” Edward’s blade struck Gerald’s shoulder, “let this be the last blow you receive unanswered,” he finished and slapped the awestruck archer across the jaw, “rise a knight, Sir Gerald,”

The archers collectively lost their minds and cheered themselves hoarse to see one of their own risen to the rank of knighthood and Edward smiled as he lifted Gerald to his feet, “get some rest and attend me tomorrow to discuss my plans,” he told the man before gesturing for him to join his companions for the undoubtedly raucous celebrations to come. Edward turned his attention back to the crowd, not yet finished, “Thomas Blackwood, get over here and kneel,” the young man at arms did as he was bid, and Sir Edward knighted another, “you will be my personal standard bearer sir Thomas, come with sir Gerald tomorrow, and we will discuss what comes next,” the newly minted knight bowed deeply.

“As you say my lord,” he answered before taking his leave. Sir Guillaume looked on with an approving nod.

“They’ll be your men forever, loyal to you beyond all others, well done my lord Landgraf,” sir Edward smiled.

“It’s more than that Guillaume, they’re good men, I’ve seen them in a dozen small fights and at least two battles, more so I’ve seen them in camp, they’re the example of what I want to build here, a new kind of knight, not just a warrior or a nobleman, a knight who thinks and fights for the right reasons, the kind they sing about in the chansons in Bordeaux,” Guillaume gave his young lord an appraising look.

“That was well said young Edward, I will be honoured if you will allow me to earn my spurs again in this endeavour,” Edward smiled.

“You earned them already my friend, your task is simple, keep an eye on the men and let me know when you see someone you think may have what it takes,” his smile became an actual boyish grin, “and fight like hell when we go back to the front and help me prove that there’s a place for such knights in the war.”

Sir Edward’s offer was a simple one when his two newest knights joined him in his office the following afternoon, “you’re both knights now, that entitles you to some things, an increase in pay for one, but if I want you to serve me as your lord rather than just your captain at the moment, I’d need to grant you a knight’s fee, you know the concept messires?” They both nodded, it was not a difficult concept, “so I have a choice for you to make, typically a knight’s fee would encompass a town or two for income and some land, while I have gold aplenty to pay you, it’s not an infinite resource and more so I don’t have access to enough towns to constantly add knights to my company and still afford everything, I’m sure you’ve guessed but this venture has already cost me more than ten thousand ducats, so in lieu of the usual land I have a secondary offer, I will grant you each a good farm here in Schwarzberg, more so my grandfather will grant you town houses in Bordeaux for when we return to Arturia, beyond that I will outfit you in full harness, furnish you with horses and all the clothes and arms you would need to fulfill your role, or I can offer you one of my villages each and you would need to find the rest yourself?” The young lord knew as soon as he met their eyes which option took their fancy more. Sir Gerald and sir Thomas put their hands between Edward’s and swore themselves to him in moments, and he sent them with written orders to Konrad to begin the process of outfitting them as knights.

For the entire month they were in Schwarzberg, the company did not rest, the entire keep boiled with energy as men and women leapt to tasks to see them ready to ride. Ser Guillaume had his chosen lances well in hand, and the thirty that would return to the front were inspected every three days to ensure their harness was in perfect condition with no rust and no warped buckles. Men from the surrounding villages arrived and were actively supporting their new lord, having seen immediate benefits to his rule. Carpenters furnished the rooms of the keep and the tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly on new clothes and new surcoats so that every man sparkled in uniform splendour.

Edward himself was clad in head to toe, black silk velvet, his arming clothes and points all glowed like a sable flame. When he rode his riding horse across Schwarzberg to inspect his towns and his new manor house with a small retinue, he looked every inch the lord. It hadn’t escaped notice either that he was in the grip of a new growth spurt. At sixteen years old he was now already topping six feet tall, perhaps two inches more, with broad shoulders that filled out his cotes in a way that made the young ladies of the village stare and a few of the men too. The morning sessions in the tiltyard began to attract a crowd, as village girls and boys came to see their Landgraf stripped to his shirt and hose and wrestling with his chosen knights or exchanging blows in full harness. The man himself took no notice of his growing crowd of admirers, lost as he was in his own goals, but he had grown into an attractive man, his almost gilded blonde hair kept short, his matching beard worn in a pair of forked points, and piercing green eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. He looked like the military saint of your choice, and so it was with delight that the eligible women of every village descended on the keep when Sir Edward declared an evening of dance and song before he rode back to war.

He smiled to his chosen retainers as they watched the dances take place in the open courtyard while a dozen minstrels played and jongulers entertained with flips and acrobatics. Sir Edward himself even took a turn strumming a lute before handing it back to an obsequiously impressed bard. He turned his eyes to Gerald, Thomas and Guillaume, “tomorrow we ride, but for tonight, enjoy the fruits of our labours gentlemen,” he grinned and joined the circle of spinning dancers and demonstrated the benefits of a noble upbringing as he leapt and stepped with the best of them.

The new morning saw hardheads and sheepish smiles from more than a few men, Edward himself had awoken with a bed warmer who was none too pleased to be woken from her dreams by the young lord’s rising before dawn. The chosen thirty lances were mustered on their parade ground before the gates of the keep, every man in his full harness and freshly brushed surcoats, everything sable and argent mixed with the silver flame of their steel. They made a brave show, each man with three horses and a bag of grain lashed to their pack horse. Edward shook Konrad’s hand, “keep working and building up our surplus, we’ll likely have another contingent arriving soon, and the village lads will need arrowheads,” he smiled as Konrad nodded, one of the newest laws implemented meant the village boys had to spend an hour every seventh day shooting at the archery butts to learn the bow in a way that Arturians had been doing for centuries, “there’ll be a bowyer with the next influx, I want him working alongside you to expand the workshop as needed, send me lists if you need anything,” Konrad nodded and returned to his work, while Edward vaulted into his saddle and gave Bohemund just enough rain and spur to rear. The men cheered.

“Gentles, let’s go and show the Vallarese how we make war!” Edward cried.