The "joining" of the Carnford Army and Duke Schmidt's forces did not immediately turn into a rolling iron tide surging swiftly north.
On the contrary, under a whole string of grand-sounding yet perfectly reasonable excuses—"discussing the route of advance, coordinating the deployment of both armies, integrating scout intelligence, replenishing baggage and supplies, and resting soldiers worn down by the long march"—the two forces "dawdled" near Duke Schmidt's main camp for a full two more days.
Over those two days, more than three officers' councils were held inside the duke's main camp. Battle maps were spread out and put away, put away and spread out again. Military briefs came in like flying snowflakes. It looked like drums were beating and gongs were clanging in frantic preparation, but in truth there was more thunder than rain.
In the Carnford Army's camp, meanwhile, there hung an unspoken ease. Equipment was readied, weapons maintained, horses fed and brushed, and they even organized a few small-scale, good-natured "friendly" wrestling bouts.
The soldiers all knew that the fighting over at Eagle Nest would not reach them anytime soon. If they could rest one more day, then one more day it was.
Yet leisurely days were always brief.
At dawn on the third day, a dust-covered messenger rode hard into the duke's main camp with the latest edict from the Royal Capital, its wording so severe it was almost an ultimatum.
The Empress Dowager's patience had clearly reached the verge of exhaustion. The letter no longer contained the previous "earnest expectations" or "understanding of hardships." Instead, it was a blunt interrogation, an unquestionable urging, and even carried an implied threat: if they delayed any longer and failed to advance, thus delaying military affairs, they would surely be punished without mercy!
The "Royal Decree" was like an invisible