Sir Hannekin arrived the following morning and was well received by Edward in the keep. He was accompanied by a fresh twenty men-at-arms and a collection of peasants in mail shirts and carrying spears. The Archer, Gerald, grinned as Edward embraced him on the stairs. The grin turned to shock as Sir Edward made him kneel and knighted him on the stairs.

“Your bravery was exceptional, I want you to fight at my side Sir Gerald, I’ll name you my Captain of Archers.” Sir Gerald’s grin broadened and he bowed to his lord.

“Just point me at the enemy sir.” Edward turned to Sir Hannekin next.

“Thank you for coming with such haste Messire, I had hoped we’d meet under less trying circumstances, and I apologise for apparently summoning the levy for no reason.” Sir Hannekin bowed deeply.

“I apologise for not scouting the land more thoroughly my lord.” He answered. Sir Edward nodded.

“As punishment, how about I give you command of the keep here, I want you to recruit another dozen men-at-arms from those camped outside, the rest I’ll take with me to Arturia. I need to know Schwarzberg is looked after while I’m gone.”

“It would be an honour my lord.” The hedge knight spoke almost reverently, and earned a slap on the shoulder from Edward.

From there Edward went into the Reichenbach camp, Cuthbert set up a table just as Edward had for Clement in the mercenary camp in Sieggestand some years prior and they recruited another forty men-at-arms, and a half dozen archers. He was disappointed in the lack of archers to complete the lances but decided he would recruit in Arturia as well. Once the recruiting faire had been completed, Edward returned to Kaspar von Reichenbach and informed him of his new condition.

“You’ll be my Squire, junior to young Cuthbert, listen to him, he may not be an Imperial Noble but he knows how to squire properly, and he may even teach you some swordwork if you’re lucky. You’ll be in charge of setting up my tent and camp each night we’re on the road, do this well and I’ll see you fed and clothed properly, I expect you to be a full fledged squire by the time we reach Bordeaux.” He didn’t wait for a response and turned away. Cuthbert came and untied Kaspar.

“Don’t worry, he talks rough, but Sir Edward is a good master, he’ll see you knighted,” Cuthbert gulped, “You should have seen what he did to that knight Sir Hans.” Kaspar merely grunted, as he began to rub the feeling back into his wrists and hands.

“He killed my father, I will have his life in return.” The boy muttered. Cuthbert shook his head, choosing not to comment on the threat before turning towards the stables.

“Come, it’s time you learned to curry the horses.” The senior squire pushed on, opening the stall for one of the Archer’s rounceys. “Grab the comb and whisk away, if you have any questions I will be a few stalls down working on my lord’s horse.” With more muttered curses, Kaspar fell to his duty and took up a curry comb and within moments was whisking away at the roan’s coat, Cuthbert nodded and his estimation of the other boy rose slightly, he clearly had worked before.

The next meeting for Sir Edward was with the newly minted, Sir Gerald. The former archer entered the office space Edward had set aside with something like worry plastered across his features, and yet he sat when Edward gestured to the chair opposite him. It was, he decided, a very comfortable chair, one of the folding camp chairs favoured on the front, made of many slats of wood that folded together like human ribs. Edward grinned at his archer, trying to put the man at ease.

“I’m sorry it’s taken so long to arrange this Sir Gerald, my father and grandfather have insisted on several long meetings for details of our activities in the woods during the siege.” Sir Edward laughed internally at how quickly they’d come to call the attack, The Siege, given how short lived it was. Certainly it had none of the desperation of the fights around Lucca.

“Honestly my lord, I didn’t expect another interview, I’ve been rewarded beyond what I expected, how can I be of service?” Gerald asked.

“You’re not familiar with your new status, are you Sir Gerald?” Edward asked, noting with pleasure the man recognised the question as rhetorical. “As a knight, I’d like you to become one of my vassals, to bind you to my service if you will.” Sir Gerald’s eyes widened slightly.

“My lord, you knighted me, my service is yours.” He hurried to assure his master.

“And I thank you for that loyalty Gerald, but as a knight it is customary to grant you a Knight’s fee, and I have a few ideas on this.” Edward continued. “Schwarzberg supports three villages, my income is mostly supplied by House de Marche’s holdings in Arturia, so I could easily grant you one of the villages as your estate for your own income and it wouldn’t affect me, however, I intend to raise my own company and return to the front a Captain in my own right, and I’d rather have you as my Master of the Hunt, my Captain of Archers. So I have an offer for you, in place of the land, let me pay to have you outfitted as befits your status, when we reach Bordeaux, I will have you furnished with horses, a palfrey for riding, a destrier for combat and two hacks for carrying your baggage.” Edward’s eyes never left Geralds, he saw the way the man’s eyes widened, the horses alone were worth more than the income of the village would be. “I’d also have a new harness made for you, and we can have clothes made. If you think this is acceptable I’ll also grant you a townhouse both here in Schwarzberg and in Rowan’s Bridge where my family rules.” Gerald almost had tears in his eyes at the prospect of the wealth he was being offered.

“My lord, it would be my honour, might I move my wife into the house at Rowan’s Bridge?” He asked, and Edward’s own eyes widened, before he burst into a loud laugh.

“I didn’t know you were married, you old cut throat, of course she can, it is your house and if you’re on campaign with me someone will need to maintain it.” Gerald looked sheepish as he ducked his head in embarrassment.

“She’s a good woman my lord, if I’m going to lead your archers, can I still expect a knight’s pay?” The man’s smile had become roguish and Edward answered with his own.

“As an officer you’ll even earn shares.” Edward agreed. Without further haggling, Sir Gerald placed his hands between Edward’s and swore his oath of vassalage before being escorted out by a nameless page.

Duke Eric entered through a side door with a nod of approval.

“That was well done Edward, he’ll be your man for life, so you intend to raise your own company?” Edward nodded to his grandfather.

“I’d like to think my motives weren’t so cynical Grandfather,” He answered with a chuckle, “But, yes I intend to return a Captain, I have some concerns about the state of the continent.” Duke Eric’s eyebrow was raised in question before he finished and Edward pushed on.

“The Emperor has dreams of the old empire and he’s already taken large chunks of the Vallarese territories and increased his strength and funds ten fold, and it is easy because the Vallarese aren’t a united front, with the throne of Arturia so precarious, how long before his avarice turns to us?” Edward shook his head. “I may be wrong but I’ve seen too much in the last few years to ignore the possibility, I want to position myself to prevent it, and the best way to do that as far as I can see, is earn more renown as a knight and Captain on the front.” Duke Eric nodded.

“Well that suits my plans fine, so will you recruit more in Bordeaux when we arrive?”

“Yes sir, I need archers and the Empire isn’t the place to recruit them.” Eric nodded at his grandson with a smile of encouragement.

“I look forward to seeing the Black Knight’s Company grown then, how about I commission you a banner when we get back?” He nodded to Edward and headed out the door without waiting for an answer. Edward leaned back into his chair.

“The Black Knight?” He asked of no one before returning to the accounts before him. His wealth was not limitless but he was sure that he would have enough to bring his company together. He currently had sixty men-at-arms and half as many archers, he intended to have a full hundred lances on their return to the Vallarese front.

They stayed several more days in Schwarzberg, with Edward taking his parents and grandfather on a tour of his lands, inspecting his villages and checking in on the new mine that had been cut into the side of the black mountain that gave the land its name. Edward found it was a joy to ride with his family and show them how far he had come, they enjoyed a ride around the fields of his personal estate. There was much cooing over the season’s yearling foals that had been sired by Toren and Bohemund, and they stopped for a picnic on a green hill overlooking the fields that the young horses froliced in.

After their few idyllic days, their column was regathered and the wagons reloaded before they began the trip north. Sir Edward viewed his men with a not insignificant level of doubt, few were well armed or possessed quality harness, and even less were well mounted. He shook his head in frustration and hoped he’d be able to do something about it in Bordeaux, perhaps the armourers there would be able to arm them at something close to an effective level.

There was one change that had taken place in Schwarzberg that had taken Edward by surprise. It seemed word had gotten out about his new nickname of, the Black Knight, and Edward was certain he knew who had let it slip. The men were all dressed in plain black surcoats of good wool, something none of them could have afforded, but Duke Eric had looked particularly smug when they had formed up in uniform black outside the keep.

Edward’s mind was brought back to the present as they crested a hill and were greeted with the panoramic view of the citadel of Bordeaux, high spires and beautiful turrets seemed to pierce the sky, and the sea air was filled with the crash of waves and the call of seabirds. Buildings of every description seemed to cover the land for miles in every direction from the castle, except out to sea, though the water was covered in a forest of masts as war galleys and merchant cogs vied for space.

“Welcome to Bordeaux!” Duke Eric called with pride.