ATPnovel Chapter 8 Winter Council
Chapter 8 Winter Council
Chinon Castle in winter is less vibrant than in summer; even the great clock seems to have caught a chill, emitting a weak, muffled sound.
This was still the royal residence, but there were noticeably fewer people coming and going. Therefore, a cavalry unit of a dozen or so men stood out conspicuously, making the garrison on the city walls tense. But when they saw the flags and the leader, the garrison immediately jumped up—before the unit even arrived, the tower commander had already led almost all his soldiers to form a welcoming line, and even rang the great bell.
"Welcome back to Shinon in triumph, Marshal!" the commander shouted.
Atil nodded, handed the reins to the soldier beside him, and stepped into Chinon Castle.
The castle was somewhat desolate. Atil looked at the turrets that had been repaired on his orders a few months ago, gazed at the old bronze cannons, and recalled the year-long battle of attack and defense. He couldn't help but fall into deep thought.
"Artier! When did you get back!" A clear, loud voice interrupted him.
The sound came from the second-floor window. Agnes leaned out halfway, waved at him, and then withdrew.
When Atil entered the castle, she was already waiting in the foyer, her hands clasped in front of her, a smile playing on her lips.
"When did you arrive? Didn't they say the British were going to launch a few more probing attacks this winter? I thought you weren't coming back."
Atil was more nervous facing this enthusiastic girl than when facing an attack by the British.
"Why are you wandering around here? How could I not come back—the British can't fight in winter, no matter what. What about the King?"
Agnes glanced at him. "The King is unwell and rarely sees anyone. You won't be seeing him today!"
Atil gave a wry smile: "You mean I have to stay with you today?"
"You haven't had a break in six months." Her voice lowered. "What's wrong with taking a day off with me?"
Atil gave Roland a few instructions, telling him to take the servants who were already grinning at him to Renault.
Agnes led the way, but Atil realized that the destination wasn't his room on the second floor, but the third floor where the royal family lived. He tried to call out to her, but the girl walked faster and faster, so he had no choice but to follow her—only to find himself being led into a walk-in closet of moderate size. The shelves on one side were densely packed with clothes, including several embroidered with irises.
Before Atil could react, Agnes was already rummaging through the room. A red, tight-fitting vest was thrown at him, which he caught; then a pair of tight trousers landed in his arms, followed by a jeweled belt. Seeing Atil standing there dumbfounded, she urged, "What, you want to walk around the city in a burqa? Don't you know how long it's been since you washed your armor! Go take a shower, then go back and change your clothes."
Just as Atil was about to say something, there was a knock on the door. The person entered without waiting for them to answer.
It was Renault who entered. He glanced around, then bowed to Attil: "Marshal Attil, welcome back. I just received a message from the servants; I hope you won't reprimand them for their poor hospitality." He glanced around again, bowed, and casually took the belt from Agnes's hands, wiped it with his black gloves, and hung it back on the rack. "Madam Agnes, while I think His Majesty would be happy to share his belt with Marshal Attil, isn't this one a bit too conspicuous?"
He changed into a leather belt and even snatched the tights from Agnes's hand, handing them to Attir.
Atil then had a chance to speak: "René, I'm sorry, I asked Agnes to bring me here to find clothes. I didn't know this was the King's dressing room."
René extended his right hand and waved the ring on his little finger at Arthur. "Marshal Arthur," he said, "when I was Grand Chamberlain, you should probably call me Renault. I'm sure His Majesty would be happy to share his dressing room with you, but you should dress more like a general than a clown—what do you say, Lady Agnes?"
Atil then noticed that Agnes had somehow slipped to the door and was about to escape. She turned around, forced a smile, nodded, and quickly left.
Renault said nothing, and continued to Attil: "Lady Agnes's idea is good. Marshal, you must be tired from your military journey. I have ordered hot water and food to be prepared so that you can rest well. But please give Lord Latre a reply before dinner—he heard that you have returned and would like to meet with you in the council chamber."
Atil nodded, picked up his clothes, and went out. After settling in, Atil simply asked for some food and then asked his servant to deliver a message to discuss matters.
When he entered the council chamber, Latre was sitting in his deputy's seat as usual, but this time Albre stood behind him. Madame Joland was also there, and Agnes, mingling among the maids behind her, nodded slightly to Attil.
Latre rose, leaning on his cane, and bowed. "Welcome back. Marshal, you and Count Dinois won two great victories this year, one at the beginning and one at the end, while the British made no progress at the Loire."
Atil returned the greeting: "You flatter me. But the British haven't suffered any serious damage. Earl Albrecht, how is the battle in Montage?"
Albrecht stepped forward, chest puffed out: "Count Dinoire's command was brilliant. La Hire and I acted as bait, launching a feint attack from the south to lure the British across the river. While they were halfway across, we opened the sluice gates, drowning most of their troops. All their artillery and supplies were also destroyed. At least a thousand men should have been killed!"
Atil nodded, and Albrecht eagerly added, "Now that we have won victories on both the east and west, I propose that next year we launch a full-scale northward expedition from Orléans to retake Paris!"
Everyone frowned. Atil, growing impatient, asked, "Earl Albrecht, I killed over three hundred in the spring, and you killed a thousand in the autumn. But if Bedford signs a few papers in Rouen, even more English will cross the sea next year! Instead of marching north to Paris, why don't we attack Rouen directly?"
Albrecht blushed slightly, but quickly added, "They'll need time to replenish their supplies; we can attack now. I asked Count Dunois; it's only two days north of Etampes to Paris. If we launch a surprise attack now, we might just capture him!"
Yoland finally couldn't hold back any longer and spoke up: "Albrecht, this is a royal council meeting. Who gave you, a deputy, permission to question the royal leader? You think you're some great general just because you fought a battle? If you had any manners at all, you'd better keep your mouth shut!"
Albrey was about to retort, somewhat annoyed, but Latre tapped his cane to stop him: "Marshal, what are our losses? The amounts of pay and compensation you requested are too fragmented; we need a total."
Atil pulled out a booklet and flipped through it as he said, “There aren’t many fortresses left north of Anjou, and the north bank of the Satter River is completely under British control. I estimate there will be at least a thousand people to be compensated.” He paused, “But the biggest problem is pay. The garrison hasn’t been paid for almost three months. They need at least another month and a half’s pay to get through the winter.”
Latre and Yoland exchanged a glance. He snatched a thicker booklet from Albrey's flushed face, flipped through it, and pinched the bridge of his nose: "The autumn taxes can cover this amount. But we still need to give rewards to the families of the fallen, and His Majesty of Montage has announced a tax exemption—so it won't be enough to get through the summer."
Yoland frowned and asked, "Money is easy to handle. But the losses on the north bank are so severe? The British have been defeated twice this year, yet we've lost more territory than last year? Can they even fight next year?"
Atil fell silent for a moment.
"Montauges was our greatest victory since Verneil," he said. "But Dinois and I had too few troops to spare, while the British could launch attacks everywhere. Often, by the time we arrived, the fortress was already gone. And the British dream of a decisive battle with us again; we must not repeat that mistake."
He looked at Latre: "We still need to expand the royal cavalry. We need at least two thousand men, ready to attack at any time on both the north and south banks."
Latre closed the booklet and stared at him: "Your five hundred men were squeezed out of thin air. The standing army needs to be paid for twelve months a year, and when it's mobilized, it requires several times more laborers and caravans to transport grain. To maintain a royal cavalry force of over a thousand men—the treasury will be bankrupt by the end of spring."
Yoland continued, "The key to maintaining an army lies in finances. The British advance will only cripple the national treasury. The real question is—will the British even come next year? How many will come? From where will they come?"
Atil tapped his fingers twice on the table, stood up, and walked to the map.
"The British will definitely come. They've been coming south every year since seven years ago. This year's losses are significant, but nothing for Bedford." He gestured from Angers to Orléans. "Angers is to the west, Orléans to the east. If we don't take these two cities, they can't cross the Loire. But once either of them falls, we won't be able to hold out any longer."
He turned to Yolande: "Dinois won a great victory this year, but I didn't in Anjou. We don't have many strongholds left in the north. If I were the Englishman, next year's target would definitely be Angers."
Yoland nodded.
Latre tossed the pamphlet to Albrecht, who was struggling to suppress his anger, and turned to say, "You mean the British might besiege Angers next year, and we'll need a large army. But the treasury... won't last until spring."
The hall was quiet for a few moments. The fire in the fireplace crackled once.
Yoland stood up.
"Then let's convene a three-level meeting. It's time for us to fulfill our obligations," she said. "I will speak to His Majesty tomorrow. Latre, summon all of His Majesty's advisors to discuss the fundraising plan. It's only early winter; we can get it done before spring."
She started to walk out, and Agnes paused for a moment before quickly following her.
With a "rip," it turned out that Albre had torn a slit in the page about military pay while flipping through it too hard. Latre and Atil exchanged glances, but neither of them spoke.