Marshall gazed at the forest covering the hillside. In winter, it made the Sapphire Mountains appear a deep, somber black. A patrol of soldiers was slowly sliding down through the trees. Only a few still had intact armor, while their battle robes hung from them in tatters like rags. Some carried sharpened sticks as weapons, and every face was gaunt with hunger. He lowered his head and silently wiped his longsword. Its edge was already rolled, and the only reason it had not broken was that every White Lion Knight of Tonigell carried the finest equipment available—refined armor and blades that could only be produced on a small scale in workshops. In particular, the weapons purchased before 776 had all been ordered according to the highest standards set by the Merchant's Daughter, and were masterpieces crafted by the master artisans of Hazel.
The noble soldiers' shabby padded armor could not withstand even a single strike from it. The armor worn by the lords' knights merely lasted two more blows at most. Sometimes he did not even need an armor-piercing awl. He still remembered the astonished, terrified expression of that blond knight during his first battle. Yet fine equipment could not decide the victory of a war between forces of vastly different strength. Golan-Elson's army had formed layers of blockades to the south, numbering several thousand men. There were also the Sasar people's gargoyles and iron men. The White Lion Guard and the Valkyries protected the Crown Princess as she was driven toward the Sapphire Mountains day after day. There was simply not enough food in the mountains to sustain an army, especially in winter. Even though they numbered only a few hundred, the rebels intended to starve them to death.
Marshall chewed on a section of tough grass root. It