Waves of Destiny

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[EDWARD'S POV]

August 4, 1337

"Young Lord!" a jubilant exclamation echoed from one end of the throne room to the other.

The courtiers swiftly turned their heads to the source of the commotion—a man none other than old Osbert. I couldn't help but speculate that this act might earn him some less-than-flattering nicknames, perhaps "Senilebert" among them.

In defiance of his age, Osbert exhibited surprising agility as he approached, clutching a small piece of paper in his hands. The throne room, covering no more than 2000 sq ft, stretched across a width of 25 ft and a length of 80 ft. Wooden chairs adorned the sides, but at the far end, three distinctive chairs occupied a slightly elevated platform. A silver one stood in the center, where I currently sat, flanked by a bronze chair on the left and a higher-quality wooden chair on the right, symbolizing stark superiority. Despite the designated purposes—the silver chair for the Earl, the bronze for his wife, and the wooden for the heir—I found myself occupying the silver chair, serving as the acting Earl or, one might say, the regent.

"Speak up, Sir Marshal," I commanded with firmness.

Osbert executed a quick bow and spoke in haste, "I was training the new batch of recruits when I spotted the earl's falcon hovering over the open space of the castle. Hurrying to the roof, I used the sound signal you taught me, and the falcon promptly perched on my outstretched arm. I unbound a small letter from its claw."

As he stepped forward, he handed me the petite paper, continuing to share the news with the rest of the court.

"It appears our lord was engaged in a battle in Kent with a group of French raiders who landed in Dungeness a few days ago," he paused for dramatic effect before adding, "and emerged victorious by a landslide. Only two injuries on our side, no casualties, while the French suffered nearly a hundred losses in the battle, with the remaining forty taken captive."

An alteration. A significant one at that. While I had witnessed minor changes, such as Margaret not marrying and Walter Manny stopping by to train me, this marked the first major alteration directly impacting the lives of hundreds. A battle preceding that of Cadzand. Gradually, my future knowledge became increasingly obsolete, and the new changes could only be navigated by a mind sharp enough to adapt.

"The battle took place in Brookland on the 2nd of August, just the day before yesterday. What's concerning is their reach into Brookland, nearly ten miles (sixteen kilometers) into Kent's territory. If a contingent is discreet enough, they could potentially reach Canterbury within a day," I voiced my worry. "Well, I'm confident that Father will discuss it with my cousin and take stern action."

Nods of agreement filled the room as we delved into discussions about securing our coasts. After ensuring that most matters were satisfactory, I dismissed the courtiers.

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August 21, 1337

A letter came yesterday about the completion of the ship project which initiated nearly three months ago. The main base of the project was the town of Cromer. Though I sent several contract laborers from both Wymondham and Norwich to Cromer for the project, several artisans from Cromer earned enough in these three months to feed their families for the year. 

As the sun went up, I prepared for my three-hour journey to Cromer. I set out from Norwich with fifty troops clad in leather armor and superior-quality weapons. By the time, it was noon, Cromer was within sight.

From an elevated perch, my gaze extended over patchwork of fields, each swaying gently in breeze, painted in hues of green and gold under the midday sun. The meandering road, trodden by countless travelers, leads to the charming coastal town nestled along the North Sea.

In the distance, the glinting expanse of the sea became visible, its cerulean waters blending seamlessly with the azure sky. The rhythmic sounds of waves gently lapping against the shore carry on the breeze, whispering tales of the maritime embrace that awaits.

As my eyes embraced the coastal vista of Cromer, a captivating scene unfolded along the shoreline. The symphony of waves and seabirds is complemented by the silent majesty of a fleet of newly constructed wooden ships, now standing proudly in their completed form. The culmination of craftsmanship and maritime artistry is a spectacle to behold.

A row of stately vessels, resplendent in their wooden glory, now rests in the harbor, their masts reaching skyward like proud sentinels. The craftsmanship, evident in every curve and joint, attests to the dedication of the shipwrights who have poured their skills into the creation of these maritime marvels.

Alongside the vessels, a diverse assembly of onlookers has gathered, their faces animated with awe and admiration. Dozens of spectators, young and old, marvel at the sight before them. Their eyes are drawn to the elaborate details of the ships – the polished hulls, the intricate rigging, and the fluttering pennants that herald the ships' readiness for adventure.

Among the spectators, seasoned sailors share knowing nods, acknowledging the prowess encapsulated in the vessels before them. Children gaze wide-eyed, their imaginations ignited by the allure of these seafaring giants. The air is charged with anticipation and a shared sense of pride as if the collective spirit of the community has been invested in these ships.

My contingent and I briskly entered the town without encountering any resistance, due to the guards recognizing the Plantagenet banners, and after all who in their right mind would obstruct the path of the royal family. Instructing most of my men to rest, I proceeded to the coast accompanied by three knights from the Regal Watch. A warm welcome awaited us from Baron Michael Seymour of Cromer, standing near the coast's entrance. Sir Oliver Bogart, formerly a vassal of Baron Michael, bowed respectfully, to which the Baron bowed back. In his current role within the Regal Watch, Oliver stood as an equal to the baron.

Baron Michael and I proceeded to the harbor, where twenty-five ships were currently docked. I ensured that these ships were constructed using oak tree woods for heightened durability. Drawing from modern ideas acquired from a 40-SP book titled 'Ships over Centuries,' I implemented advanced techniques in both ship construction and crew training. The knowledge gained from this book allowed us to enhance various aspects of our fleet:

 Advanced techniques in hull construction, involving multiple layers of thick oak planks and reinforcing key sections with metal brackets or straps.

 Complex joinery methods to strengthen the ship's structure.

 Fixed mounts for cannons, imported from the Eastern Roman Empire, on the ship's deck to ensure stability during firing.

 Reinforced gunports designed for protection during adverse weather conditions.

 Use of metal plates or chainmail for additional protection in crucial areas such as the captain's quarters and ammunition storage.

 Reinforcement of critical sections with thick wooden planks or specialized materials to withstand cannon fire.

 Implementation of a system of flags and signals for swift communication between ships in the fleet.

 Establishment of rigorous training programs for the crew, emphasizing coordination, discipline, and mastery of naval warfare techniques.

These enhancements positioned our fleet significantly ahead in various aspects compared to ships of the current era. While these 25 ships had the potential to significantly impact the French Navy, my strategy aimed at avoiding a direct confrontation with their entire fleet, recognizing the disastrous consequences such a scenario could entail. Ethical considerations aside, my focus remained on securing victory, regardless of the means employed.

I proceeded to the barracks situated near the harbor, a structure constructed using the cement I exported to this location. Unlike conventional barracks, this two-story building occupied a spacious 4000 sq ft of land, defying expectations. In this world, dedicated barracks for marines were unheard of. Foot soldiers were typically repurposed as naval personnel during times of need and disbanded when the need waned. However, I had initiated the hiring process for Marines three months prior.

The barracks had the capacity to accommodate over a thousand marines in compact quarters, and it also featured an internal cafeteria. Adjacent to the harbor, the location provided ample opportunities for marine training with the available ships.

Upon my entry into the barracks, all movement ceased, and a collective bow was offered in my direction. I gestured for them to continue with their tasks and proceeded to inspect the food supplies. While I didn't taste the provisions, I had designed a balanced diet plan that included essential nutrients such as carbs and proteins. This plan aimed to provide the men with the strength needed to navigate the seas. Additionally, I incorporated vitamin C into their diet to combat diseases like scurvy. Given that the cure for scurvy wouldn't be discovered until the 18th century, this dietary measure alone would give my marines a significant advantage over others.

I also conducted a brief inspection of the ammunition for the cannons, ensuring that an ample supply of lead cannonballs, mass-produced in Norwich, was transported to cover the naval needs. Each cannonball weighed approximately 8.8 pounds (4 kg). In addition to cannonballs, short swords were also mass-produced, facilitated by a communal smithy established in Wymondham under the guidance of the Guild. The wages for blacksmiths and their apprentices were well above average, attracting skilled craftsmen from all corners of Norfolk.

According to the latest monthly report, the smithy boasted nearly a hundred blacksmiths working on a six-hour shift daily, excluding Sundays, and receiving fair wages. A single blacksmith could craft a high-quality short sword per day. Consequently, around a hundred short swords were produced daily in Wymondham, and this number surged to two thousand per month after accounting for any defects. The excess stock was sold to the capital, fetching a good price due to the weapons' exceptional quality. An average of four shillings per short sword resulted in approximately £200 earned each month after selling all the excess. This monthly income equaled the average annual income of a typical baron. The success in trade was undoubtedly drawing attention, and dealing with jealous nobles would likely become a recurring challenge.

The fleet was set to embark on its maiden voyage tomorrow, covering 40 nautical miles (or 46 statute miles) in a journey lasting over eight hours. The fleet had the capacity to carry nearly 1800 soldiers, although the current count stood at 1000, with plans to increase that number in the near future. Additional ships were already under construction, and the booming construction sector in Cromer reflected the region's growth.

Baron Michael, recognizing the potential, threw his substantial support behind the project, contributing to its success. While his foot soldier numbers were modest, around seventy, his fleet had grown from ten to fifteen ships, capitalizing on the ongoing ship construction initiative. The Seymours had historically been a significant naval power on the eastern coast of England, but the loss of twelve ships in 1301, along with Michael's father, then Baron Edmure Seymour, dealt a blow to their naval prowess. Michael, initially not groomed for inheritance, was thrust into the role at the age of fifteen after his elder brother went missing in the sea expedition with Edmure.

Now, at the age of 51, with four decades of experience as a sailor, Michael had proven himself a veteran in naval matters. Recognizing his expertise and dedication, I appointed him as the Admiral of the Navy of Norfolk. 

As I moved out of the barrack, I gazed towards the endless North Sea and the banner of three golden lions proudly adorning the mast, symbolizing the support of the Plantagenet Dynasty and warding off potential threats from pirates, ensuring the safety of the fleet. And this very fleet would very soon shake the very foundations of the Frenchs.