Chapter 38

King Edric stood atop the ramparts of the royal castle, his cloak billowing in the warm breeze as he surveyed the immense gathering before the capital city's gates. Ranks upon ranks of soldiers stretched as far as the eye could see, their armor glinting in the sun's rays. This was the might of Maridian made manifest - a mustering the likes of which had not been seen in generations.

To his right stood General Alric, the king's most seasoned battlefield commander. Alric's impressive bulk exuded an aura of grim readiness as he coolly appraised the gathering forces.

"Fifty thousand lighting to Southgate, Your Majesty," the general rumbled, making a notation on his parchment. "The Lion Banners march to join the coastal defenses."

On Edric's left was General Rickard, a grizzled veteran known for his strategic brilliance. His keen eyes missed no detail as the troops arrayed into marching columns.

"I count fourteen divisions so far, each three companies strong, sire," Rickard reported crisply. "Over seven hundred thousand men by my estimate."

The third figure was the imposing General Harrow, master of siege warfare. He grunted in approval as another barrage of supply wagons trundled through the Lion Gate carrying munitions and provisions.

"Good, the reserve scorpions and requisitioned foodstuffs are joining the march," Harrow's deep voice carried a hint of his Ironhill origins. "We'll want for nothing on the march to the coast."

Edric allowed himself a tight smile as he watched the steady stream of warriors, sons of Maridian's noble houses and stout yeomen alike, rallying to the kingdom's call. The great houses had indeed answered - the crimson phoenix of House Tarian flew defiantly alongside the twin griffons of House Valefair. Even the reclusive Mountain Families had seen fit to pledge their elk-rider companies to the king's host.

"What news from the Ramsdells? Have they made preparations for the new bestowal ceremony?" Edric asked, naming the hereditary line of mystic mages whose powers were utterly unmatched in the realm.

"The ayr'giath are still convening, my liege," Alric replied, using the ancient dialect's word for their order. "But they have pledged their fullest possible support once their...preparations are complete."

The king's jaw tightened at the practiced ambiguity, but he gave a curt nod. Time would tell what dread powers the Ramsdells deemed prudent to unleash upon the enemy. For now, he would allow them their secrets.

A glint of sun on steel drew Edric's eyes towards the Dragonmount Pass where the last of King's Road split. Two figures on proud destriers led a serpentine column of heavily armored knights that shone like a river of liquid silver.

"Ser Amathar and Ser Fiorel have mustered the Stoneborn Knights," Rickard noted, correctly identifying the High Lords of those prestigious orders. "Our vanguard will be well-led."

"Indeed," Edric replied gruffly. "And our flanks duly anchored when the Longbowmen of Andarian and the Greyfell Mountain Clans complete their marches."

A thin sheen of sweat dotted the king's brow as he contemplated the immense logistics involved in such an undertaking. But his chest swelled with pride at the dedication on display - Maridian was summoning every resource, rallying to the defense of home and family against Samuel's piratical horde.

"My lords," Edric addressed his generals in a voice that brooked no uncertainty. "See to your final preparations. We shall break camp at next dawn and march as a single indomitable force. Nothing less than the complete eradication of the pirate scourge is acceptable."

"My lords," he said, turning to address Generals Alric, Rickard, and Harrow. "Before we proceed - what is the latest accounting of the enemy's position and movements?"

The three generals exchanged glances, and Lord Harrow stepped forward, clutching a worn parchment crammed with scribbled reports.

"Your Majesty," Harrow began in his gruff baritone. "The scouts have confirmed the pirate king's vanguard has indeed established a foothold on our southeast coast near the ruins of Kulthaven."

Edric's jaw clenched at the mention of the once-prosperous port, no doubt put to the torch by Samuel's wretched horde. "And their numbers at this...foothold?"

"Approximately one hundred thousand men and growing, sire," Harrow disclosed. "A considerable force, but less than a fifth of his original."

The king allowed a grim face. Even Samuel's full force could never hope to overwhelm Maridian's defensive Renaissance once his armies reached the shore.

"Our eyes in the field also report no other major penetrations along the coast as of yet," Rickard chimed in. "Though smaller pirate contingents continue incessant probing strikes on the outer villages and holdfasts."

"Aiming to disperse and divert our attention, no doubt," Alric growled, stroking his armored chestplate. "A feint to sow chaos while their true invasion force masses elsewhere."

"They shall find our resolved defiant," Edric stated, gazing over the soldiers marching to war with renewed determination. "But what more can you tell me of our naval responses?"

Harrow consulted his parchment once more. "Admirable progress, Your Majesty. Though clashes continue to be fierce and costly, our fleets have already accounted for over one hundred hostile vessels sunk or captured."

A few cheers rose from clusters of soldiers who'd overheard this report, spurring Harrow to raise his voice.

"Aye, and while we've suffered losses of our own, less than ten royal ships have been sunk or fallen to their crews turning traitor!" The lord's gravelly bellow rallied the troops further.

"Our stalwart sailors have Samuel's pirates keenly engaged and unable to reinforce their beach landings for now." A rare smile creased Harrow's scarred features. "They've even seized a number of enemy ships to bolster our own numbers."

Edric nodded, satisfaction glinting in his eyes. The opening gambits were going well - the pirate king may have landed some forces, but it would avail him little if Maridian's industries and reinforcements remained uncontested.

Still, a lingering unease weighed on the king's mind. Samuel's horde was but one of the dark forces arrayed against his beleaguered kingdom. There would be no true respite until the greater threats lurking in the shadows were unmasked and vanquished.

"See that we fortify our interior positions as our armies advance," Edric commanded his generals. "I'll not allow our homes and families to be as vulnerable as our coasts currently stand."

"It will be done, Your Majesty," the three lords intoned as one.

The three generals came to attention, saluting crisply as Edric turned to make his way back inside the castle's command center. His steps were measured yet purposeful - for the opening moves were made in this clash that would decide Maridian's very survival.

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