"And may we serve with purpose true to our loyalty!" the knights said in a chorus. Silence permeated the room for a several moments afterwards.
It was broken after a minute. "So, what are the details of the attack, lord-cousin?" asked a young man with auburn hair with a spear slung on his back.
"The Marquis assaulted the city about a week ago. His host numbers ten thousand strong. Our spymaster confirmed of this. The fortresses in the north should still remain intact, but not for too long I believe. I was informed that the rebel army only conquered two of the fortresses with token forces along the northeastern main road. Instead of a lengthy march down south from Ruggleford to the northern and eastern garrisons, they have sailed on River Dalewood instead, providing a quick and almost unhindered journey. Furthermore, the Baron of Falmundth will be joining him soon with a contingent of unknown number. I estimate it to be around five thousand at most, predominantly serfs and peasant levies. I suspect that less than a thousand will be professional soldiers, fewer than that are cavalry, considering some of his men are still at our disposal."
"Impossible! The Baron is not a dishonorable scum like Marquis Quillton." The knight grimaced, unbelieving of what he heard.
"Calm down, Jurelle," the knight whose name was Barone said. "We do not know everything that has transpired yet. Maybe the Baron is being coerced. Right, Berwyn?"
"I suppose so, that is a possibility knowing that Ruggleford borders Falmundth. A shame though that the Baron is easily crumbled by mere threats of invasion."
"What do we do with his men, then?" a handsome young knight inquired. Like the other knights, he was armed to the teeth, his arming sword slung in his waist and shield strapped at the back, as if a battle would broke out at any second. "Do we subdue them right away?"
"That will cause panic in our ranks, William," a lady knight said. "Use your head. Not to mention, we are undermanned as it is right now."
"Well, they are men of the traitorous Baron, right?" William rebutted, frowning. "Will we just wait from them to stab us in the back?"
"Reona has a point…" Frenda suddenly said in a cold, trailing voice, eyes turning to the young noble. Hearing her speak made William flinch, which Reona noticed, much to the young man's dismay. He rolled his eyes and contorted his face seeing the amused look upon her face. Frenda continued, "…I do not think we should take action against the men of Falmundth yet, at least not until we question some officers to confirm our suspicions. Also, I do believe it is strange that Lord Frenzell would send his men, only to betray us afterwards. What I mean is it should not have been possible to consider Lord Velmund's army as a threat, not to belittle his lordship's capabilities, and knowing our odds of victory in a battle against a larger force, common sense dictates that our meager numbers should have been crushed. But then again, it is also a bit bizarre that the Baron would send his men in the first place to aid Lord Velmund if his goal is to depose the Duke. He should have known that his troops would be slaughtered at the end."
"And yet we won," Barone laughed wholeheartedly, which died down immediately as he switched to a more solemn tone. "But it makes me wonder what is going on in that head of his. Lord Frenzell commissioned the mercenary company Berwyn and I came from many years ago to get rid of bandits. From the way he acted back then, I thought of him as a good ruler, generous and caring for his subjects. And here he is, rallying his people under the banner of rebellion."
"As you yourself told us earlier, what we know is too little," Velmund said in a decisive tone. "We do as what Frenda said, interrogate his men before making decisions. If they are proven guilty of being accomplices of the rebellion, we will subjugate them in a way that would not spark discord among our ranks. If they are clueless to the Baron's actions, we will bring them to battle the rebellious Marquis."
"But what do we do when they saw the banner of their liege flung on among the enemy lines?" questioned William.
"That is a mere child's play," Velmund replied without the tiniest hint of arrogance, yet with resolute and unwavering confidence. "We simply do not allow Lord Frenzell's army to rendezvous and connect with the forces of Marquis Quillton. According to our spymaster, he should still be gathering his forces as we speak. It should take at least several days or at least a week for him to march out. I have already devise a plan, so rest assured. I would personally deal with him, worry not."
"If Lord Velmund says it's fine, the situation is definitely under control," Reona confidently uttered, chest puffed and admiration visible upon her eyes.
"Now that that is settled, let us not dwell upon it further, shall we?"
"In that case we should plan next how to face the Marquis," Jurelle said with fists clenched atop the table.
"I do not think it is necessary for us to even battle the Marquis. Surely the Duke is now rushing back home with an army in tow after he hears news of the assault on Regalia. He will drop his claim on Kurlon in a heartbeat to save the city, no doubt about that. It is merely the situation in the city that I am concerned off. I hear Night Owl was left on the city, thank Mirim for that. His stomachache that day we left is almost a blessing in disguise from the heavens. I suppose he should be helping Commander Kursoe on mounting a strong defense, but we never know whatever unfortunate things might happen," Berwyn said.
"Unfortunately, we cannot count on my father's army to arrive, or even caught wind of our situation out here. I suspect that… a traitor is hiding among the officers of the Standing Army. No, I am sure of it. He is most likely high-ranking too and close with my father. He is preventing the news and the army from turning back. As for the city–"
"A traitor?!" Barone gasped. "You are jesting, are you not, my lord?"
"Lord-cousin, questioning the integrity of the Regalian army's men is not something to be taken lightly! Perhaps you are too quick to jump into conclusions," Jurelle said, unbelieving.
As the two of his retainers interrupted him, Velmund was about to refute their sudden outburst, but he was forestalled by another of his retainers who said, "That is actually the natural assumption when you think about how Marquis Quillton is bold enough to lay siege on the city. I myself was under the impression that he's hiding a trick up his sleeve. That and considering the unsavory rumors I heard when we left the army for your lordship's command…" Berwyn trailed off, looking at Barone.
Barone's eyes bulged, as if a sudden realization hit him. "D-Do you mean the rumors about General Balmeister and Commandress Hilith of the First forming a split in the Standing Army?" Barone stammered, slightly fumbling with his words.
"I have never heard of this rumor, pray tell?" Velmund asked curiously.
"Oh, I can explain it!" Reona suggested gleefully. William, who was sat in beside of her, frowned and rolled his eyes, irritated by her enthusiasm. "According to a friend of mine who is an archer in the Second Division, factions are forming within the army around the Lord General and the First Division Commander. They always had a bad blood between them for some reason, according to my friend. It is a bit of an irony really, as despite being head of the army, Commandress Hilith is more popular than him. Weeks before the declaration of war against Norsmund, there is an unsavory rumor that circulated among the soldierly about a mutiny. Apparently, many are discontent with the general's lack of concern for the troops and incompetence. Although that is only partially true, as the general is always fawning over the knights, favoring them more than the rank-and-files. However, he also does not associate himself with the knights with commoner blood, which is pretty biased, if you ask me. Discriminating between knights of high and low birth is just wrong and irritating. Well, I do not know how true the plan of the mutiny is, but Eleanor, despite being sadistic and strict, is a charismatic leader whom the soldiers have come to admire over time. She is of commoner blood and started as a recruit in the tender age of eighteen, but she quickly rose the ranks through merit and in merely five years, she's already a commander. Her competence is also one of the reasons why she is supported by many."
"So…" William said hesitantly, garnering the attention of those in the table. "Is she the traitor, then?"