The Meeting of the King's Guard

Robert and Cris were already waiting by the entrance to Scot's tent. Robert looked regal in his ornate riding army, his beautiful white pegasus Bolt behind him, patiently waited on by two squire boys. Cris was dusty and sweaty. He had clearly recently left the practice fields and did not have time to wash up.

Stephen smiled at that thought. He wanted his brother to look brutish and ignoble so that the King's Guard would in an instant recognize the true heir to the counthood. Stephan had his helmet held to this side, exposing a week old beard with a hint of red in it. He now had strapped to his back a two handed battle axe, a weapon of a questing knight. His tunic was also absent of the house colors, now a plain cloth to show his vow of poverty. Even his bannerman, Anders, held a plain banner of the quest to display that Stephen was a knight of the quest at this time and served no one but the lady.

A trumpeter played a short tune to introduce Scot, who exited his tent followed by his banner man Lord Kaufman. Scot was donned in his full battle garb, an ornate steel plate with gold and silver trim, designed to take a blow but to also look inspiring while doing so. It was crafted by the great smith of Agiluft. He had with him his unsheathed bastard sword to present before the King's Guard, a great weapon that has slayed many enemies of the Schneider house over the decades.

A group of trumpeters sounded the arrival of the King's Guard. Through the camp entrance entered a column of horsemen, five abreast and five long. The twenty-five men were marshaled by the hero Sir Stephen "The Raven" Corbett, an esteemed knight from the stories instantly recognizable by his bright yellow tunic with a black raven emblem. He led the column of knights towards Lord Scot and with a spinning of his flail and a barked order all the knights at once halted with ten paces to spare to Scot.

The first rank of knights dismounted, the first Sir Corbett himself. He wore sturdy steel armor with bright yellow tunic. He returned his flail to its home on his hip and led the other four heroic knights forward. Directly behind him was Sir Carey "The Bold" Smith, a huge knight in black and white livery, three anvils his livery. The third in line was Sir Donald "The Fool" Stouffer, a tall and tanned knight with a distinctive southerner hair. He wore his house livery of hand reaching for a golden chalice on a blue field. The fourth great knight was Sir Mark "The Poet" Turner, an older knight known more for his prose and command of the pen than for his fighting prowess. He wore his family coat of white and red shields flanking a yellow stripe, with three green clovers. The last knight was Sir Jon "The Mathematician" Beal, a wide knight wore a black and yellow livery with three griffons.

The dismounted knights formed a arch in front of Lord Scot and all knight. In unison they unsheathed their bastard swords and recited, "Our Lord, my he live forever, King Louen Leoncoeur, has granted your campaign the title of crusade and offers his royal presence in your ranks through his guard. We swear to follow you, Lord Scot Schneider, as we would our liege lord, unto death or honor. Please accept lances for this most holy of quests."

Scot was clearly moved by the sight of five of his most esteemed brethren bowing before him. He took a moment to compose himself and signaled for Sir Corbett to stand. Corbett stood before Scot and the two men embraced like old brothers. "Oh Corbett, what a sight for a marshal. A host of grail knights and companions. Give you please grace my family and advisers in my tent." Scot moved beyond the other bowing knights and addressed the remaining knights. "Please break camp and find amenities immediately. I am honored by your presence and ask for your swift ordering into units. I hope to march tonight so that we can reach Barak Varr by the second week of September." He bowed before the host and motioned for those who remained to follow him into his tent. 

Lord Scot led the way and went straight to his seat, followed closely behind by Eddard who took his place to Scot's right. Stephan, Cris, Robert and Anders all entered the tent and took their places to the left of Scot. The five grail knights entered the tent and took seats at the great table set up across the center. Sir Beal spoke first, "A great war host this part of Bretonnian has not seen in ages," he roared as a complement to Scot.

Scot smiled and nodded. "By last count, nearly five thousand knights and their squires, and close to twenty-thousand peasant levies to keep an eye on."

"Too many mouths to feed and peckers to keep in check," laughed Eddard. "I've had to execute a rapist a day since we originally broke camp, fucking rabble can't keep the townsfolk alone."

Smith snarled, "This is why we should invest in a professional men at arms like the Sigmarites. It would save us the trouble of the everyday wretch following our knights into battle and bastardizing the land behind us."

"I did not want to discuss the woes of keeping the peace," sigh Scot," tell me Corbett, what have you brought me."

Sir Corbett scratched at his hairline and snicked, "I am no quartermaster. Sir Beal."

Sir Beal recited from memory, "We have brought with us two hundred members of the King's Guard. With that includes twenty-five knights from Parravon to add some mobility to our crusade. The King knew you had little help in terms of levies from that Dukedom. Of course, with us comes our retainers, close to five hundred squires and yeomen to be used as needed. And finally, the pilgrims flocked as we marched south from the capital. I do not have a count..."

Robert stood and asked, "May I ask which battle-brothers from Parravon have come with you? I haven't been in the mountains for ages, I do not know if I would know any of their faces."

Turner replied with his gracious words, "I do not believe that any of our pegasus riders have lived long enough to have stories written about them Sir Leslie!" He turned to his side a looked up quizzically, "I believe there may be a Sir Fallow, a dusty knight such as yourself. Do you know the name?"

Robert guffawed, "Of yes, the prick married my sister!"

The room burst into laughter as the men thought of the woes of women and homes.