Horizon of War Series - Chapter 167: A New Canvas

A New Canvas

Korelia

The airship’s first flight of the year became a spectacle in Korelia. The vessel, which had slipped through the night on its arrival last season, was now revealed in all its glory under the morning sun. Its majestic form, sleek and unburdened by ornaments, resembled the tip of a spear soaring across the blue sky. The ivory skin of the airship gleamed as it made its rounds, seemingly to delight the onlookers below.

Rumors spread that the Lord himself had piloted the flying vessel. The airship took to the skies several times over three days before the activities in the sky subsided. However, these events were just a prelude to the military display that would soon take place.

The citizens of Korelia had barely finished discussing the Lord’s daring exploits with his airship when, one crisp morning, the sound of marching abruptly filled the air. As the first light of dawn grazed the horizon, hundreds of men clad in full military gear streamed out from their billets, their breaths forming misty clouds in the cool air.

Hearing the commotion, Korelians opened their windows in amazement and watched the troops pass by. Cheers erupted from some who recognized family members or relatives among the marchers. Sir Justin, fully armored, rode his eager warhorse at the front. Following close behind were Sir Harold and Sir Michael, leading the rest of the mounted knights and the cavalry.

They moved like a procession, marching in good order toward the city’s west gate. Lord Lansius and Lady Audrey were present too, riding in a new carriage flanked by squires and guardsmen.

The Korelians was emerging from winter’s grip and relished the parade-like atmosphere. Among the figures they cheered for was Francisca. Her towering yet delicate presence had made her a favorite among the children.

Banners from Korimor, South Hill, White Lake, Three Hills, Nicopola, and the Nomadic tribesmen fluttered in the wind, a vibrant testament to the significant expansion of House Lansius over just one year.

Although the ice outside had not fully thawed, it was preferable to the impending muddy conditions that spring would bring. This lingering chill did little to deter the procession as it reached the open plains of west Korelia.

Upon arrival, Sir Justin, acting as the marshal, promptly commanded the army to assume formation. Following Lord Lansius’ directive, he was to ensure the troops were ready and willing.

In the field, the soldiers lined up in precise formation, their backs straight, right hands holding either halberds or spears, shields on their left, and swords at their belts. As the sun rose higher, its golden rays caught the polished ringmail and helmets of the men, making them glisten under the morning sun.

Despite maintaining garrisons in Korimor, South Hill, Hill Fort, and the bulwark in Umberland, their numbers had swelled impressively. From the original four hundred, the force had almost doubled.

As the columns formed squares, the formidable scale of the army became apparent to everyone. Whereas a typical barony might muster a hundred or two hundred, House Korelia had assembled seven hundred professional soldiers. This impressive count did not even include the militia and their allies.

Lord Lansius, observing from outside his carriage, instructed calmly, “Line formation, five men deep.”

Echoing his command, Sir Justin announced, “Line formation, five men deep!” Captains and lieutenants immediately relayed the order through their units.

The soldiers, no longer mere recruits, shifted into line formation with practiced ease. Most of them had seen combat and bled in battles. Their faces were confident, eager to march even with loaded rucksacks on their backs.

Lord Lansius then climbed into his carriage for a better view of the troops. He admired the straight lines of the formation before him. With a nod, he commanded, “Forward, maintain formation.”

“Vanguard, march! Maintain formation,” echoed the marshal. The order cascaded down the ranks.

The army advanced. Infantry formed the center with cavalry on both flanks. The cranequiniers, a special unit armed with crossbows, held the reserve position. Meanwhile, the Lord and his knights kept pace.

Riding next to the carriage, Sir Justin confirmed, “My Lord, My Lady, do you have any specific orders for today?”

“Let’s head to the village by the forest where Lord Jorge camped last summer,” Lord Lansius replied from inside the carriage. “The scouts have confirmed the roads are passable for carriages and carts.”

“By your order,” Sir Justin acknowledged, then rode off to inform his command staff.

With that, House Lansius began their early spring training. It wasn’t the annual training session, but it had become a tradition as the men were restless after a long stay at the billets and eager to show what they had learned or how they maintained their edge despite the long winter.

…

Lansius

Despite the softer seat and the leaf spring suspension, the ride was still rocky and bumpy. Lansius knew this was to be expected as they were riding off-road, yet he couldn’t help feeling downhearted by the harsh ride.

I guess I expected too much.

He admitted this to himself while peering outside to observe the plains and the troops’ movements, using it as a distraction from the uncomfortable journey.

“It’s a smooth ride,” Audrey reassured, as if reading his mind.

“Really?” Lansius turned to her and couldn’t help but notice the gentle swell beneath her pashmina wool coat.

“Definitely better than usual,” she said warmly.

Lansius couldn’t resist a smile. “It’s still bumpy, though.”

“Of course, it’s running on a frozen, off-the-beaten path, not the Imperial road,” she replied.

The mention of the Imperial road piqued his interest. “Imperial Road? I’ve never heard of that.”

Audrey raised her brow. “But you read a lot?”

He chuckled softly. “I guess not many bothers to write about roads.”

“Well, there’s a road that connected Centuria, Tiberia, Elandia, and Nicopola,” she explained. “For the most part, it’s a good cobbled road, some even wide and smooth. Even in disrepair, it surpasses most dirt tracks.”

Lansius nodded thoughtfully. “I hope I could get a map of that.”

“I can probably find one for you,” Audrey offered confidently.

“You can?” Lansius’ tone was skeptical yet amused.

Audrey wore a proud smile. “You’d be surprised at how many letters I receive, asking for invitations. Cecile said that some come from wealthy families from as far as Galdia and Salceslia.”

“Now, I’m getting jealous,” Lansius quipped as he leaned closer. “And what exactly do these correspondents seek from my lovely wife?”

Audrey grinned as they bumped shoulders. “I already told you, invitations to our court. They probably want to see the face of the black-haired conqueror,” her tone was playful.

“The famed Black Lord, eh?” Lansius chuckled. By now, he had embraced the moniker. “Soon, it’ll be Gray Lord.”

“I don’t mind,” she said with a sweet smirk. “I also love gray horses.”

Lansius chuckled, allowing Audrey to add, “Husband, you work too much. Even in winter, I see you tinkering with so many things—stacks of plans on your desk, drawings, and you’ve even had the servants help you with those boxes of canvas and resin.” She reached out to gently touch his arm.

“I’m guilty of that,” he admitted. “I wish I could lay back and rest, but with so much going on, I fear that I’m on borrowed time,” he explained. “The world isn’t going to get better in a few short years. I fear that the conflict in the Imperium will drag us all in.”

Audrey squeezed his hand. “Lans, you have me, the knights, the staff, and the people. We’re not weights to carry.”

His smile returned, grateful and warm. “You do well to remind me often.”

“Of course,” she replied, holding his hand warmly.

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As he lowered his gaze, the baby bump caught his attention again. “How’s the baby?” he asked, glad that he could shift the topic to lighter matters.

“He seems rather excited today,” said Audrey, caressing her belly. “Maybe from all the moving in the carriage.”

“Do you feel nauseous?” he asked, concerned.

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “The view and the smell make me happy.”

Lansius drew a deep breath and felt relieved.

As they conversed, the landscape began to shift, growing more rugged. Audrey peered out the window. “The terrain is getting harder; we’d better adjust the formation.”

“You’re right,” he remarked and then opened a small wooden window.

Sterling quickly rode closer. “My Lord,” he greeted.

“The terrain is getting rougher. Ask the marshal to have the men form up into marching columns,” he instructed.

“At once,” Sterling responded, spurring his horse to convey the orders.

Only then did Lansius realize the carriage was performing well. He noticed the terrain was rough, likely from the freezing winter, which had made it jagged, unlike the smoothness of summer. He could feel and hear the leaf spring suspension working hard to absorb shocks from the uneven terrain.

Still, it was far from optimal. Sometimes it was harsh; other times, it was too bouncy. He needed to hand over this carriage and allow the craftsmen to take it on a long journey for testing and further improvements. He reckoned that a dozen more tunings were required, and along the way, they might try another approach or design. Such was progress and development—it was never a linear process.

***

Korelia

This early in the season, farming, herding, and most other activities hadn’t yet started. There was only the spring festival waiting just around the corner.

The military training concluded within a week. Lansius did not participate directly but visited several times to check on their progress and gauge their proficiency. He observed that his orders were carried out with increased flexibility and confidence. Moreover, Lansius was satisfied to see the troops executing a well-ordered retreat against a mock enemy, played by the knights.

I guess they’re ready for the next level.

Lansius made a mental note to order a specific purchase to enhance their effectiveness.

As for the cavalry, he noticed that their command had become more intuitive. Even without direct orders, they assumed effective positions using their intuition and experience, reducing the need for his micromanagement.

The same improvement occurred with his crossbowmen, who had become more mobile in separate smaller columns. Sir Justin had experimented with repositioning them to counter various threats or surprise the least expecting enemies. This strategy worked surprisingly well, especially in combination with the skirmishers, who moved as quickly and could provide protection against fast-moving cavalry.

Sir Justin and Farkas, who commanded the skirmishers, considered integrating them, and Lansius could see a rough model resembling a mini Spanish Tercio. This formation would consist of smaller, mobile columns of guards surrounding the main army, serving as the vanguard, flanks, or rear guard. However, he realized he didn’t have enough troops to create even one full Tercio.

Despite not having muskets like a real Tercio, Lansius felt that the formation might still work using his new crossbow design. Thus, he gave his officers the freedom to experiment, especially since they would need more experience in pitched battles.

Lansius feared there would come a time when he couldn’t rely on strategic maneuvers and would need to depend on brute force. Lansius wanted his army to be more than prepared—he wanted them to excel.

However, he was grateful that his concept of a standing army was now gaining wide acceptance. Initially, a gambit born out of desperation to survive, it had since rewarded them well. Anyone could see that the alliance and the shogunate stood on the shoulders of his army, which had conquered Korimor and South Hill, and brought peace to Three Hills and Umberland.

They had proven themselves in battle, and now in peacetime, they demonstrated their ability to maintain a high standard. Lansius observed their prime physical condition, their well-polished gear, and the sharpness of their spears. Reports also confirmed the cleanliness of their billets and the absence of crime-related issues.

This consistent demonstration of high standards reassured him. Furthermore, with a more experienced chain of command in place, Lansius felt confident that his army was in good hands.

The only issue was loyalty.

While there were no direct allegations, the deteriorating crisis in Midlandia cast doubts on the loyalty of several key figures. Although Lansius would vouch for people like Sir Justin and Sir Harold, their past ties with Lord Bengrieve and the fact that they had family in Midlandia could cause a rift with the rest of his officers.

Only Calub fared better, as his marriage to Cecile made him more trustworthy since he was of Tarracan origin and had no family in Midlandia.

Despite his concerns, Lansius kept them to himself. He knew that even a small hint could rouse his supporters and potentially cause a rift. So far, he could only discuss this with Audrey. He didn’t even dare to mention it to Farkas, who managed his network of spies, which had now grown from bards to also include peddlers, market workers, masseurs at the bathhouse, and even beggars.

Lansius’ reluctance and caution left the issue largely unaddressed until now. One week after the military training, at the small council meeting, Sir Justin unexpectedly relinquished his office as marshal.

“On what grounds, my good Sir?” Lansius asked from his seat, blindsided by the unexpected development.

Sir Justin maintained a relaxed posture. “I doubt any Arvenian needs to explain himself. However, if My Lord needs a direct reason, the last time Sir Archibald was here, I gave the champion my word that after your return from the Umberland campaign, I would assist the Arvena resistance. So now it feels like the right time.”

So, it was Anci’s doing…

This meant there was no ulterior motive. The man was a force of nature, but he was also reckless and rarely had a plan in mind. This revelation made Lansius somewhat reassured.

“For how long?” Cecile asked.

“I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but I’ll return to Korelia,” the knight answered Cecile firmly, then turning to Lansius, he added, “Next time, I’ll bring my entire family.”

Lansius let out a snort, acknowledging that the marshal likely had a rough idea about the issue of loyalty. “Don’t forget to bring your son and also your horses.”

“Such is my plan, My Lord,” he said with a charming smile.

“Pardon me for intervening,” Calub interjected, “but if the campaign is successful, wouldn’t you gain more land in Arvena?”

Sir Justin chuckled. “If that were to happen, I’d take cash.”

His unexpected jest made the other council members chuckle.

The knight continued, “Arvena may have more fertile land and developed towns, but it seems that the fortune of my House lies elsewhere as fortune continues to evade us.” He looked around the chamber and said, “I seriously think that my House’s fortune lies in Lowlandia.”

Lansius chuckled, finding the reason poignant despite its nonsensical nature. “What happened to the knight that fight for profit?”

Sir Justin laughed. “I haven’t changed. It’s just that I smell fortune and revenge in Arvena.” He then gazed curiously at Lansius. “What about you, My Lord? You’re as good as any Arvenians. I heard you were in Riverstead when the city fell and in Sabina Rustica as well. I’m sure you have blood debts to settle.”

Lansius leaned back in his seat and admitted, “My blood boils if I think of their treachery. I wish to lead an army there if I could, but alas, I’m now responsible for so many souls.”

Sir Justin smiled like a proud father and nodded. “Originally, I had hoped you could lend me some troops, but with the situation in Midlandia, I doubt they would let an armed party enter.”

Lansius exhaled sharply. “I wish you would reconsider your plan; I don’t want you to get tangled in their succession crisis.”

“I’ll manage. The one thing I’m expert at is smuggling myself,” he quipped, eliciting chuckles from Cecile and Calub. “Besides, it’s probably a good way to prevent them from trying to use me against you, My Lord.”

Lansius sat up straight. “Gratitude for your concern, Sir Justin.”

“Don’t be,” Sir Justin shook his head. “It’s mostly my own affair. You see, I also badly need to see my son and my wife.”

Lansius nodded and had nothing else to say. Cecile took the chance to ask, “What about Eleanor?”

“Yes, this is the hardest decision,” he said with a sigh. “I sincerely hope you can take care of Eleanor for me. Right now, Korelia is probably the safest place in this part of the Imperium.”

Cecile exchanged glances with Calub, who nodded and replied, “I’ll be honored to be entrusted with your daughter. And indeed, as you said, politically and militarily, Korelia is the most stable.”

“Militarily, yes,” Lansius commented, “but politically, we’re still to see whether the shogunate will take form smoothly.”

“My Lord, it’s still a better bet,” Sir Justin replied. “With the Imperium in this state, Korelia is likely to escape the crisis—or, as Sir Harold said, strong enough to wrestle the conflict down.”

Lansius chose not to argue. The other two council members, Calub and Cecile, glanced at him, waiting. “How many men will you bring to Midlandia and Arvena?” Lansius finally asked.

“Twenty from here. I’ll pick up more when I arrive in Midlandia, thinking about forty or fifty.”

“That’s big enough for Midlandia to see it as a threat,” Lansius leaned forward. “I can’t give you more men, but I can give you something better.”

***

Eastern Mansion

As Lansius returned to Eastern Mansion, Ingrid and Claire had been waiting. Audrey asked them to join us for lunch.

Sterling, who hadn’t seen his newlywed wife for an entire winter, was certainly emotional, but he composed himself well, despite Claire clearly giving him some sweet smiles.

After lunch, Audrey invited them to their private hall. With Margo keeping watch at the door, they could speak more freely.

“How was your stay at Cecile’s family estate?” Audrey asked.

“It’s wonderful. I might even say that the stay has been incredibly pleasant,” said Ingrid.

“My house is honored to host an esteemed educator like her at our humble place,” Claire commented.

Originally, Lansius was a bit worried since Cecile and Calub had stayed in Korelia over the winter, leaving only Claire as the host. But as it turned out, it worked out well.

Afterward, Ingrid began her reports. “I’m sure My Lord and Lady are eager to hear about my findings. As Sir Morton has said, indeed, Claire has a talent.”

Lansius, seated, and Sterling, who stood guard, both leaned forward; however, Ingrid merely smiled, prompting the two to look at Claire, who sheepishly smiled in return.

“She can,” Audrey muttered without surprise to Lansius. “I could see her aura.”

Lansius and Sterling breathed a sigh of relief. “Congratulations,” Lansius said to Claire, who promptly curtsied.

“Lans, I believe the two need some time together,” Audrey hinted, and Lansius chuckled. “Sterling, Claire, I order you two to go home. I’m sure you’ll have some catching up to do.”

The two newlyweds, separated since the start of winter and now slightly flustered, excused themselves.

“I feel bad separating them just after their wedding,” Lansius commented as he watched them leave. “Especially since Sterling just furnished their new house.”

“He ended up spending the winter in the Eastern Mansion with us,” Audrey said, sharing a similar sense of guilt.

“I think My Lord and Lady shouldn’t feel bad about it. We should feel fortunate instead. Claire’s gift of magic was almost lost,” Ingrid revealed.

“Then indeed it is a stroke of good fortune. Now our House has another mage,” said Audrey spiritedly. She was the one who introduced Claire to Ingrid and brought this plan to Cecile and Lansius.

“It’s going to take another year before she can be of any use,” warned Ingrid. Then she asked, “My Lady, you previously mentioned something about an aura?”

“Oh, yes,” Audrey muttered. “That’s what my master used to say about the colored glowing thing around the body. I’ve begun to see it clearer and clearer.”

Ingrid furrowed her brow, nodding but looking quite befuddled.

Lansius rose and decided to seek his expertise. “Ingrid, I think you should see what Lady Audrey is capable of.”

This piqued Ingrid, who readily stood and asked, “Capable of what exactly, My Lord?”

“Oh, you’re going to be surprised,” Lansius remarked, his voice tinged with anticipation yet carrying an ominous undertone. Meanwhile, outside, the blanket of snow gave way to a tapestry of wildflowers, closing the chapter on winter. Now, the canvas of spring sets the stage for the ascent of the new Korelia Shogunate.

***