Chapter 194: Tit For Tat
"The military structure must change. We also need to establish a dedicated Logistics Department." Simon continued. "Combat soldiers will focus solely on training, while logistics will handle rations, food storage, equipment procurement, battlefield medics, and other support tasks."
Benjamin nodded, noting this down. He agreed that specialisation was necessary.
Beyond this, Simon also addressed military uniforms.
Armour was for battle, but to distinguish soldiers from civilians, he planned to design dedicated military uniforms, a key step in formalising the army.
Additionally, he intended to strengthen discipline training, starting with military salutes. Subordinates must salute superiors when reporting.
In camp, soldiers would be trained to fold their bedding neatly, march in orderly lines, two in a row, three in a file, and maintain proper posture.
Before, Simon had found such drills ridiculous. But after consulting the system, he realised these seemingly trivial habits were crucial for instilling discipline, exactly what firearms-equipped troops would need most.
In an era where firearm accuracy was poor, formations had to be tight and orderly, the infamous ’line up and shoot’ tactic of later centuries.
Even the drummers in marching columns served a purpose: maintaining rhythm, like chanting ’left, right, left.’
A scattered formation could collapse under enemy volleys, leaving no chance for counterattacks.
At first, Benjamin and the others were stunned. But they gradually understood Simon’s reasoning.
Military discipline was serious business; they wouldn’t dare take it lightly. Soon, no one objected.
With military industry and army reforms addressed, the meeting shifted to battle summaries.
Benjamin stood first and immediately tore into Lancelot.
"To use His Highness’s words: you, Lancelot, are undisciplined and reckless! On the battlefield, you do as you please! This must be punished severely, lest other officers follow your example!"
Lancelot hung his head. He’d lost his temper during the fight.
Liam added. "Also, Lancelot wasted cannonballs by firing randomly. That deserves punishment too."
Lancelot bristled. "That little rat! I told him to shut up! Just wait till I get back..."
Benjamin sighed. "My Lord, see? Lancelot never learns. I’ve whipped him before, useless. We need a way to deal with troublemakers like him. Many copied his impulsiveness in battle, causing unnecessary deaths."
"Easy," Simon said. "We’ll establish a military court to enforce discipline among officers and soldiers. As for what that is and its laws, I’ll explain later. But for punishing officers like Lancelot, I have a method: no beatings, no scolding, just a few days in the ’black room.’"
"Black room?" The officers looked puzzled.
Lancelot’s gut twisted. Simon always had ideas. "My Lord, spare me! I swear I’ll behave!"
Simon liked Lancelot, but his recklessness in battle couldn’t be ignored.
"This is serious. You need to remember this lesson, for your own good. Next time, you might not live to regret it."
He then explained the ’black room,’ solitary confinement.
Nothing tormented the mind like isolation. A week alone, with no one to talk to, could drive a man mad.
Hearing this, Lancelot turned pale.
As a chatterbox, being locked in darkness with only himself sounded worse than death.
Benjamin was impressed. Even punishment was refined under Simon.
Next, officers summarised battle experiences, especially regarding firebomb throws and cannon use.
Many now spoke of the reavers with confidence, not fear.
Finally, Simon concluded: "The reavers are paper tigers!"
The officers burst into laughter. "Your Highness is right! They look scary, but poke them, and they collapse!"
Watching them, Simon smiled. The battle’s purpose was achieved: fear of the enemy weakened morale before fighting even began.
As discussions continued, a servant entered and whispered to Simon:
"Your Highness, the imperial decree has arrived."
---
Carl surveyed the Prince’s castle with a critical eye.
Seven days ago, he had set out from Eldora, enduring the fatigue of travel by boat and horseback before finally arriving in Brambleford that morning.
The news of Dunmere’s great victory had shaken the court and the public alike, and with the arrival of the newspapers in Eldora, the details of the battle had spread far and wide.
Emperor Alaric, overjoyed, had hosted a grand banquet for his ministers. The very next day, Carl was dispatched to Brambleford to deliver the imperial edict.
As a eunuch serving directly under Emperor Alaric, Carl’s personal journey to Brambleford spoke volumes about the Emperor’s regard for Simon.
Upon arriving at the city gates, he presented his token and was promptly escorted to the Prince’s castle by soldiers.
"His Highness, Prince Simon, arrives!"
Just as he was taking in the modest simplicity of the castle, a voice announced Simon’s arrival.
Moments later, a young man bearing a faint resemblance to Emperor Alaric entered the hall, none other than Simon himself, the current Prince Simon. "This humble servant, Carl, pays his respects to Your Highness."
Wearing a practised smile, Carl bowed deeply as Simon stepped into the main hall.
"There’s no need for such formalities, Attendant Carl," Simon replied with a faint smile.
In the Eldorian Empire, eunuchs were collectively referred to as Minor Yellow Gates, but Carl held the rank of Attendant of the Yellow Gate, a position of considerable influence in the castle.
Carl’s smile widened. He dared not put on airs before this prince.
Everyone knew that in the days to come, Simon would undoubtedly enjoy the Emperor’s favour.
"Three years have passed, yet Your Highness has grown even more handsome, dashing, and noble. This old servant almost failed to recognise you!" Carl’s words carried a hint of flattery.
Few in the world disliked praise, and though these were mere pleasantries, Simon chuckled. "It seems Attendant Carl has become even more eloquent over the years."
Carl’s eyes crinkled into slits as he retrieved the imperial edict from his sleeve. "I shall not waste words. Your Highness surely knows why I have come?"
"Naturally. His Majesty summons me to Eldora." Simon replied calmly.
Carl nodded and unrolled the edict.
According to the Eldorian Empire protocol, Simon was required to kneel when receiving an imperial decree.
Despite his recent victory, Simon remained acutely aware of his still-fragile foundations. The defence of Dunmere had not only weakened the Brambleford Army but had also drained his coffers.
The cost of ammunition, cannons, and gunpowder alone had amounted to hundreds of thousands of caps of silver.
Thus, he was hardly in a position to flaunt arrogance or defy imperial authority.
As he straightened his posture to receive the edict, Carl stopped him with a gesture.
"Your Highness, with only the two of us present, there’s no need for such rigid formalities. Once you’ve read the edict, it would be best to depart for Eldora at once." A shrewd glint flickered in Carl’s eyes.
Simon understood. The eunuch was extending an olive branch.
Rules were rigid, but people were flexible, and those who delivered edicts knew how to exploit that flexibility.
"Then I thank you for his consideration."
Since Carl had shown courtesy, Simon knew how to reciprocate. He accepted the edict and called out, "Attendants! Bring the gifts."
Three servants soon entered, each carrying a tray veiled with cloth.
"Attendant Carl, a small token of appreciation. I hope you’ll accept it."
Carl’s smile deepened. This prince was clearly a man who understood the ways of the world. "In that case, this old servant humbly thanks you, Your Highness."
At Simon’s signal, the servants unveiled the trays.
The first held gold. The second displayed delicate glass bottles of perfume. The third featured an exquisite glass sculpture.
Carl’s eyes lit up.
While gold was commonplace for someone of his station, the perfume and glass were rare luxuries, items money could scarcely buy, as they were produced exclusively in Brambleford.
"Your Highness is too generous. How could this humble servant dare accept such gifts?" Carl approached the glass sculpture, examining it closely.
The piece was shaped like an ox, a design yet unseen in the imperial castle.
Simon smiled. "For an esteemed guest who has travelled so far, these trifles are hardly worth mentioning."
Carl was one of Emperor Alaric’s inner circle. Cultivating his goodwill might prove useful in the future. As a prince, Simon knew better than to appear stingy; a little gold was a small price for potential allies in the capital.
As Carl sniffed the perfume, he added. "Since Your Highness has treated this old servant so generously, I cannot accept these gifts without offering something in return. There are matters you should be mindful of before departing for Eldora."
"Please enlighten me." Simon’s brow furrowed slightly.
Carl lowered his voice. "While Your Highness’s victory at Dunmere is a monumental achievement, certain ministers may seek to undermine it. I’ve heard that Darrel of the peace faction intends to raise... Concerns about the cannons."
"The cannons?" Simon had anticipated this. After Dunmere, it was impossible to keep the cannons a secret.
"Beyond that, Your Highness, once promised soldiers lands once held by the late Prince Augustus. And of the hundred thousand reavers slain, many were once subjects of the Eldorian Empire. Some religious scholars may accuse Your Highness of indiscriminate slaughter. Before setting out for Eldora, you would do well to prepare counterarguments."
Simon nodded slowly. The eunuch’s information confirmed that his gifts had been well spent. The capital’srumourr mill was as efficient as ever.
As expected, there were those eager to tarnish his triumph. His achievements were too great; if they could offset them with alleged misdeeds, his detractors would rest easier.
After a moment’s thought, Simon said. "Attendant Carl, please stay in Brambleford for two more days. Allow me some time to prepare."
"Of course, of course." Carl was already engrossed in admiring his new treasures.
With a nod, Simon instructed Ysabeau to prepare guest quarters for the eunuch.
Then he summoned Baldwin and Aiden to the main hall to discuss Carl’s warnings.
"My Lord, my suspicions were correct," Baldwin said with a wry smile. "These courtiers may be inept at governance, but their tongues are sharp, especially Darrel. Do not underestimate him."
Simon’s understanding of Eldora’s political intricacies was limited. "Enough circling the issue. For this trip to Eldora, I seek no rewards, only a safe return. Of course, if we can win over some factions, all the better."
Aiden and Baldwin exchanged glances, a flicker of excitement in their eyes.
Unlike other princes, Simon stood alone. If he failed to cultivate allies in the court, any upheaval in the empire would leave him vulnerable.
After all, facing the combined might of the Eldorian Empire and the reavers with only six cities would be madness.
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