"Young Master!" A row of men stood up the moment they saw him enter, all of various ages but battle-hardened veterans, commanders and mainly nobles under his father, Louis.
Valtherion's hair had long since dried, and he raised his hand for everyone to sit down. He was looking at the map that lay spread in the centre of the room.
"I need a full report for those five castles and forts, immediately!" Valtherion gave his command, and soon, a man stood up, sizing him down before beginning to speak.
"Young Mograine, the situation is grim. We should take a defensive stance in Blackstone Fortress and hold the line until reinforcements arrive. Greenwatch Keep, Serpentwall Castle, Dawnfort, Ironreach Hold and Emberwall are unable to withstand the siege. The walls are too short; we do not have time to man them for the sieges. They are all within 6 to 10 kilometres of each other; the enemies possess enough men to lay siege on every objective, and we are outnumbered two to one..."
Valtherion said nothing as he gazed at the map, receiving the information with a neutral expression. The men here, they doubted him; they did not know him, and it was normal. He was barely sixteen. It was not unusual for young heirs to take command when needed; however, it was under the heavy counsel of experienced commanders. He thought of that; he also thought of how to use the terrain to his advantage. It was the most direct battlefield, an even ground; there were no major shifts in terrain such as Mountains or large rivers.
"No such thing will happen, Baron Linley. We will not allow the enemy to immobilise us. Further east, my father is holding a siege. In the West, my uncle Julian is laying a siege. They could be flanked at any time; our situation is not that grim." Valtherion spoke, looking at the council's expressions that were worsening. The men were with their lives on the line; if they fell, so would their families and people under them.
"I know you doubt me. I know I am barely sixteen. I understand that most of you have lived your lives on the field, defending the Mograine Territory. I know; I do not deny the fact that you have spilt more blood than I have seen water. The letters you have received from my father, from the War Marshal, I ask you to trust their judgement, just for this one battle." Valtherion spoke as he looked at the men. He had to gain control so his tactics and strategies could flow.
"We cannot think just for ourselves right now. This 160,000-strong force is just their first line. Most likely, they are covering for an invasion towards the west, Garcia Duchy, as a second force would come and backstab Julian Garcia mid-siege. Not confirmed yet, but it is highly possible; in fact, it is something that is almost guaranteed. Look at the map!" Valtherion pointed towards various locations on the map, explaining his thinking. Bit by bit, the men were relaxing and nodding.
"Young Master...I will trust in your father's judgement. If we do not follow your commands, we would die; if we lose the battles, we die anyway. Louis has not let me down in my whole life. I understand your point of view. I see you are more than gifted in Strategy...but you haven't explained how we are to deal with the force of 160,000 coming our way, one step at a time, my boy..." Baron Linley spoke, however, with a smile this time. Valtherion had shown them things that they did not see, and he was here only for 10 minutes, no more. If the War Marshal was sending a letter, telling them to listen to Valtherion, then it was not without grounds, and he was proving that.
"Correct. Five objectives. They can siege them; the walls can not withstand. It is not a good idea to confront them in an open field; we do not know who is leading them...Those castles and forts have short walls, you say...Perfect. Now, listen carefully: this plan must be executed flawlessly, and we shall win." Valtherion pointed at the map, beginning his explanation of the tactic.
"Greenwatch Keep, Baron Linley, 10,000 men, you are to depart with them as soon as possible. I do not wish you to strengthen the keep, not at all. Your goal is to arrange a safe retreat. Serpentwall Castle - Viscount Terrance, you are to take the same number of men and arrange the same thing. Commander Jackson, Varian and Ben, you will take this, this and this objective, same thing. Arrange a proper retreat from the castle when the time comes. Red smoke will be the signal for retreat; blue smoke will mark the regroup. The moment you identify who leads that horde, let me know immediately. Take rations for a whole month, just to secure your men's morale and calmness.
I see we have 10,000 strong cavalry, along with 3,000 mounted crossbowmen. They are to stay here with me, along with the remaining 17,000 archers and Infantry. The first of you to retreat will be in the most western holds. Regroup at Emberkeep; hit the enemy in the back. In the meantime, I will lead the East; we will hit them in the back with our cavalry and break the sieges. I will send you cavalry to have an easier time when you lay your own siege. Following this, we split the armies in two and lay a siege on the remaining two fortresses. The walls are short, as you said; they do not provide a good cover. We shall rain hell on them. The goal is to make the enemy retreat; we shall ambush them immediately as they exit. Does anyone object?" Valtherion was finally done speaking, looking at the men who stood up, put a hand on their chest and bowed.
"No, Young Master, it is a good plan." Varian and Ben bowed, but did not move forward, not until they were allowed to by the young man who would lead them. Once they had decided to throw their lot in, there was no coming back.
"Brief me, how many experts and mages do we have?" Valtherion asked the most important question. Experts were not as common as one would think; this was not the Imperial Capital.
"Young Lord, we have 50, alongside your personal guard; that would make 70. The two Imperial Guards round this number to 72. The mages we have are as follows - 2 Wizards, 3 novices." Brandon spoke as he briefed him on their numbers. Everything else was of the Novice rank. It was good; it was not a bad thing, after all; this was not an Imperial Army; it was a regional army, one of a Count. In fact, it was even better than needed.
Valtherion took a dagger out and pinned it on a certain point of the map, with a loud sound.
"Listen carefully. There will be no time to celebrate. I know we have been told to defend. I want you to keep your men, your youths especially, under strict discipline. Behead anyone who is out of line, on the spot. After this, we march towards Gadgeztan. It is a hub for the hordes of the Dark Elves, and if any armies are to pass to break into the west, they will have to stop there. I have the confidence to conquer this city in a day; it should not be heavily guarded; no more than 60,000 of those pests will be there. Bradford, call the engineers and request more manpower for construction. We will not stay idle this week; we have Forests to scout, rivers as well." Valtherion looked at them, and with a shout, they saluted him and left. Soon, fifty thousand men departed.