Bastia.
Within the majestic castle built against the mountains, the Earl felt a headache looking at the things presented to him.
What lay before him were the various excuses of the nobility.
There were excuses of old injuries flaring up, being too old and frail, sons not being grown up yet...
In any case, there were myriad excuses, some even hoping to buy their way out of military service.
The Barbarians were actually right about one thing: the knightly class of Bastia had been corroded by years of ease, and how many could get back onto a horse to fight again?
How many could charge fearlessly as they did in the past? Would they be willing to give up their estates? The women in their beds?
Why risk their lives with those Barbarians when they themselves were nobility?
Having lost courage, even the best weapon would be useless inside armor.
