Imperial Year 2515, Evening of the Day the Knight King's Army Disbanded
Location: Couronne, Capital of Bretonnia, the "Round Table House," Headquarters of the Grail Knights' Club.
As the name suggests, this was the Couronne branch of the Grail Knights' association. It served as both a residence and a recreational club, offering food, drink, and various entertainment facilities for Grail Knights to relax. Entry, however, was highly restricted—one either needed to be a Grail Knight or possess an invitation letter or personal introduction from a Grail Knight. For those fortunate enough to gain access, the food, beverages, and activities inside were all free of charge, funded by the tithe income from the Church of the Lady.
Bertrand and François chose a window-side table to sit at. A servant soon brought them drinks and meals. François signaled the servant to leave, and the two dukes sat across from each other, beginning their meal.
Both men faced different challenges when it came to managing their armies. Yet, for now, they both chose to leave those matters aside and enjoy a quiet dinner together.
Bertrand, the Red Dragon Duke, excelled at recognizing and rewarding merit after a campaign. However, the logistics of calculating exact amounts for rewards, determining how to fairly distribute spoils between knights and serfs, and deciding who should be promoted to leadership positions often gave him a headache. Bertrand was notoriously bad at administration. While he excelled in battle, internal affairs and diplomacy were not his forte.
Fortunately, Talleyrand had come to him with Ryan's suggestions. The Knight King had politely inquired whether Bertrand was struggling with such matters and offered assistance.
Bertrand, overjoyed, had readily accepted. After reviewing the reward and promotion list drafted by Talleyrand, the duke found it agreeable, if somewhat skewed toward favoring commoners and serfs. Bertrand, attributing this to the high elf's humble origins, raised no objections. The matter of distributing rewards was thus swiftly settled, leaving Bertrand free to relax.
The Red Dragon Duke often delegated administrative tasks, though his poor judgment in selecting officials frequently led to problems. Within a year or two, the appointed officials would succumb to corruption, exploiting the serfs while deceiving the knights. Bertrand would eventually discover the misconduct, often too late, and would be forced to dismiss or even execute the culprits. If not for Talleyrand's loyalty to Ryan, Bertrand might have tried to recruit the high elf as his chief administrative officer.
"Don't even think about it, Bertrand. You wouldn't be able to control someone like Talleyrand," François said, exuding his characteristic elegance and wisdom. "That high elf is the very embodiment of cunning and deceit. Few can truly master him, apart from my son-in-law. Most wouldn't even notice his subtle manipulations and deceptions until it's too late. He's practically a living incarnation of Ranald."
Ranald, one of the Eight Old World Gods, was the deity of trickery and theft. Once a mortal, Ranald had ascended to godhood by deceiving the goddess Shallya into giving him her tears, which he drank to gain divine power.
"Really? I find him rather friendly," Bertrand said, taking a bite of his ham and egg sandwich. "Sure, he might favor commoners and serfs a bit more in his proposals, but given his background, that's understandable."
"Oh, Lady have mercy! You've been completely fooled by that cripple!" François sighed. "He doesn't have any real 'fondness for the common folk.' That's just a front to please Ryan and earn your trust. Think about it—if his rewards heavily favored knights and nobles, what would your first reaction be? You'd suspect he was colluding with your knights to undermine you. Would you still trust him then? Would you approve the list he gave you?"
"Is that so?" Bertrand paused, genuinely taken aback.
"Exactly," François continued, exasperated. "Talleyrand is a master of subtlety and manipulation. If you can't decipher his hints or read between the lines, he'll outwit and exploit you at every turn. Only someone like Ryan, who knows everything and is skilled enough to manage him, can fully utilize Talleyrand's talents."
"Well, that's easy for you to say, François. You're good at administration; you handle everything yourself." Bertrand grumbled before refocusing on his sandwich, wolfing it down with gusto.
François, in contrast, had a completely different approach. The Knight King's father-in-law had drafted all the reward lists, promotion decisions, and related documents during the journey home. With those tasks delegated to Jérôme, François was free to relax.
The duke picked up his grilled chicken sandwich and pineapple tart, savoring a few bites before pausing to bring up the topic that was on everyone's mind. "Bertrand, do you have any new information about the Ten Marshals?"
The announcement of the Ten Marshals had sparked widespread excitement among Bretonnian nobility. The title, representing the kingdom's highest military rank and the King's utmost trust, symbolized immense power and independence.
The title of Marshal originally came from the Empire. During the reign of Emperor Sigismund the Conqueror, marshals were introduced to manage war efforts on multiple fronts, serving as independent commanders when the Emperor's attention was divided. The position later became a permanent military rank, signifying supreme authority. Both the Empire and Kislev had their own marshals, such as the Reiksmarshal, Nuln Grand Marshal, Middenheim Marshal, and numerous Kislevite marshals.
While Bretonnia historically had no fixed marshal positions, exceptions existed. For instance, Admiral Henry LaMotte was granted the title of Naval Marshal after his famous victory at the Battle of the Savage Point, where he defeated a fleet sent by Settra the Imperishable, the eternal ruler of Nehekhara. However, Settra's subsequent retaliations lasted two centuries, only ending when LaMotte's grave was desecrated and his ashes scattered by Settra himself.
Currently, Bretonnia had only one marshal: Roland Marshall, commander of the border guards stationed along the contested frontier with the Empire. Under Ryan's leadership, diplomatic breakthroughs had resolved many disputes, leading to a peace agreement and redefined borders. As a result, Roland's once-formidable border army had been downsized to a token force of knights and peasant infantry tasked with guarding against orc, beastman, or bandit incursions.
Amid the speculation surrounding the Ten Marshals, a few perceptive nobles recognized the potential for this to reshape Bretonnia's political and military landscape.
François, always attuned to political undercurrents, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, awaiting Bertrand's response.
"My information aligns with yours," Bertrand said, lowering his voice. "But I did hear something new from Catherine, Karad's wife. She often attends Queen Sulia's tea parties and learned from Sulia's maid Sylvia that His Majesty plans to name a Kislevite as one of the Ten Marshals—the only foreigner to receive the title."
"It must be Rokossovsky," François mused, leaning back in his chair, deep in thought.
The following individuals were almost certain to be named marshals: Bertrand, François himself, Bodrick, Bertrand the Bowmaster, Lawn, Karad, and Rokossovsky.
These seven were widely recognized as deserving candidates. Rokossovsky, in particular, was admired for his heroic defense of Erengrad and his leadership during the Bagratian Offensive, where he annihilated the Norscan Mountain Legions and killed Norscan High King Aesling outside Grovod Forest.
Having now settled in Bretonnia, Rokossovsky was engaged to Eva Green, a noblewoman of the illustrious Cornwall family. This alliance mirrored Ryan's marriage to Sulia, symbolizing his acceptance among Bretonnian nobility. Rokossovsky would likely become the first person in Old World history to hold the rank of marshal in two nations simultaneously.
This left three slots unclaimed. The remaining contenders included:
Roland Marshall, the current border guard marshal, whose competence was average but whose seniority was unmatched. Duke Hagen of Gisoreux, a veteran commander with a strong lineage but limited involvement in Ryan's campaigns. Nicolas Davout, vice-commander of the Old Guard, renowned for his bravery and steadfastness but considered too inexperienced for such a prestigious role. Duke Hubald of Carcassonne, a disciplined and capable general who, however, often operated outside Bretonnia's political core. Baron Juan Carlos of the Sun Knights, Count Hex of Devon, Marquis Lucien of the Marches, and Standard-Bearer Armand of Marlowen—each with their merits but lacking decisive credentials.
François broke the silence, his tone measured. "Bertrand, it's certain we'll both be named marshals. We've earned it. Don't you agree?"
Bertrand nodded, unconcerned. "Of course! They can't leave us out. Let's eat!"
François sighed at Bertrand's political naivety. "But we can't think only of ourselves. What about our subordinates?"
Bertrand finally looked thoughtful. "So… Davout? He's from Bastonne."
"We must push for it," François urged. "This isn't just about recognition—it's about influence. The marshals will form the core of Ryan's centralized military. If we want a say in future decisions, we need strong allies in that circle. I'll visit
Sulia tomorrow to test the waters for Davout. It's our duty to recommend capable men for the kingdom."
Bertrand nodded, his expression serious. "Then I'll rally the old families and the Grail Knights to support Lucien. Let's divide and conquer."
The two dukes raised their crystal goblets, toasting to their shared plan. The clinking of glasses signaled the start of their political maneuvering.
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