Chapter 95: The Night's Watch in the Host (Part II)
It wasn't just Casey, a youth of King's Landing who had only recently come of age; even Egger, a man who had served in the military, couldn't help but stand open-mouthed, stunned by the colossal military encampment before him.
Compared to this gathering point, Castle Black of the Night's Watch was practically a small outpost—though, functionally speaking, the Watch were indeed the sentinels of the Seven Kingdoms, so the contrast was fitting enough.
How many people were here? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Or fifty thousand, a hundred thousand?
There was an old saying: "A thousand men are a sea without shores; ten thousand men cover the earth and sky." For a commoner without professional scout training, once numbers exceeded a certain threshold, estimating them became an impossible task. Whether it was ten thousand, fifty thousand, or a hundred thousand, once you were close enough to see them with the naked eye, the difference became indistinguishable. This was exactly why the various nations of the ancient world felt bold enough to wildly exaggerate their troop numbers in an attempt to intimidate their enemies.
To be honest, Egger couldn't tell at all how many people were in this assembly point, but having heard Tyrion describe the population and economic status of the Crownlands, he had a rough idea of the potential troop count.
The so-called Crownlands were more like a directly governed territory. You could understand it as a region where the Lord was the occupant of the Iron Throne—Robert himself.
This plain, situated due south of the Vale, east of the Riverlands, and north of the Reach and the Stormlands, would have been a perpetual battlefield if not for its coastline. Historically, an independent regime had never existed here; instead, it was constantly contested by powers like the Riverlands and the Stormlands. This chaotic disorder only ended when Aegon the Conqueror landed here with his dragons to begin his conquest of Westeros, establishing the landing site as his primary base and, later, the royal capital's territory.
Before the Dragonkings' conquest, the total population of this area was less than a hundred thousand. After three hundred years of Targaryen rule, through the combined effects of massive immigration and natural growth, it had become a prosperous land boasting the largest city, King's Landing, with the highest population density and the most wealth per capita in all of Westeros.
Wealth aside, regarding population density—since the Crownlands were actually quite small—if you excluded the anomaly of King's Landing, its total population was roughly the same as the vast but sparsely populated North. Given that this era lacked perfect census data, based on various factors, the total population of the Crownlands was estimated to be around two million.
Robert's expedition to the Vale to suppress the rebellion was a small-scale local war, and naturally, he hadn't called for a total mobilization. In such cases, the ruling class generally tried to ensure the war didn't jeopardize the lives, property, or continuous development potential of the remaining populace. With the productivity levels of this age, the initial mobilization rate should be between 0.5% and 1%—meaning ten to twenty thousand men. This referred to actual soldiers, not counting the merchants, servants, and laborers. The specific number depended entirely on the ruler's authority and control over the vassals.
Egger couldn't judge exactly how many people were in the camp, but it was definitely more than ten thousand. One must remember that later, when Cersei frantically conscripted men to defend King's Landing, her hysterics only managed to scrape together a few thousand. This massive gap in the number of respondents was the most direct manifestation of a ruler's control in this era of personal rule.
"So many people!" the young squire Casey murmured to himself, his eyes completely fixed.
Egger actually wanted to say the same thing, but he was currently the Chief Logistics Officer of the Night's Watch, a Great Man in the boy's eyes. No matter how shocked he felt, he had to maintain an air of calm indifference.
"Quite a few indeed. Come on, let's see what quarters the King has arranged for us and how we are to move with the army."
Seeing his master so composed, the boy immediately felt his own lack of experience was to blame. He gave a quick acknowledgement and urged his horse to follow Egger down the slope toward the assembly area.
If this army marched to the Wall, they could beat the hundred thousand wildlings beyond the Wall until they didn't recognize their own parents. But now... this group was rushing to the Vale to rescue a madwoman who had murdered her husband... simply because her maiden name was Tully, and she was the mother and guardian of the current Lord of the Vale.
...
Earlier on the road, Egger had been grumbling to himself: before the fighting even started, Robert was already thinking about allowing the heads of the Royce and other houses to take the black after winning. He had even gone so far as to whimsically summon a Night's Watchman in the Host. That fat pig Robert really was an optimist.
After seeing this assembly point, he understood where the Warrior-King's mysterious confidence came from.
Though debauched and completely unqualified as a ruler in Egger's eyes, this fellow was definitely above the excellence line in terms of command and prestige. While the fat man's years of reckless spending and waste had left the Iron Throne heavily in debt, it had earned him staggering support and immense prestige among the mid-level nobility and the lower-tier knightly classes who received benefits and honor. Whether this advanced strategy of overdrawing the future through loans to stabilize the current reign was a lucky accident by Robert or true wisdom disguised as folly, Egger didn't know.
Admittedly, prestige and control won through handouts aren't solid—but if the person using this tactic also frequently wins battles, the situation changes. As long as Robert didn't die or suffer a crippling defeat, the three-minute heat of this shaky control during a short-term war was no less effective than any regular army under a superior social system.
And these were just the troops of the Crownlands. Add the other six kingdoms... if not for the natural defense of the Bloody Gate, the Lords Declarant in the Vale wouldn't even be able to last through a single campaign!
During his time ringing the bell at the King's Landing office, Egger had taken the time to learn the sigils of the various Westerosi noble houses. As he rode deeper into the camp in his black garb, many sigils he recognized appeared on the banners planted everywhere. The golden crowned stag of House Baratheon was the most frequent, which went without saying... besides that, he saw other patterns on the chests of soldiers and servants, on the silk pennants adorning lances and spears, and on tent flaps: the crossed warhammers of House Rykker, the golden chalice and sheep of House Stokeworth, the light green waves of House Hayford, and so on...
Egger didn't continue counting. With Robert personally issuing the mobilization order, it was easy to guess: not a single house from the Crownlands would be absent. Even if a family had only one person left, they would insist on dragging their banner here, trying to win military glory in the war to restore their house.
With so many nobles gathered together, it would have been a prime time for a financial scam or brainwashing to collect wealth, but first, the Chief Logistics Officer needed to find the King... or at least someone relevant to seek quarters.
After asking several soldiers, Egger received no valuable response. No one seemed to know that King Robert had brought a Night's Watchman in the Host along. This was already starting to irritate Egger slightly; such were the frustrations of a massive gap in power and status. He had long suspected that the so-called Night's Watchman in the Host was likely just a sudden, drunken whim of Robert's—evident from the fact that the servant who came for him didn't even have a letter of proof or a commission.
But there was no way around it; he had to come. The logic was simple: it was a small matter if he came and the King forgot about it, but if he didn't come and the King happened to remember, he'd be in serious trouble. Regardless, his precious tech-tree building time as a transmigrator was being wasted on a boring military expedition!
Egger cursed that fat stag a thousand times in his head, but since he was here, there was no turning back. If he did... grand principles aside, his status in the eyes of his young squire would drop significantly.
He couldn't keep asking aimlessly and hitting walls; he had to resolve this quickly, otherwise, it would be too embarrassing!
...
He continued riding toward the heart of the camp. To be honest, the military discipline, quality, and organization of this era were quite poor. He had traveled along the Kingsroad and managed to ride right into the center of the assembly without even dismounting. While there were no enemies for hundreds of miles, what if he were an assassin?
Egger suspected that if he knew the way, he could ride all the way to Robert's tent before being stopped by the Kingsguard. He didn't know if the King was in the camp yet, but regardless... if someone had explosive weapons like dynamite, assassinating the King would be child's play.
Finally, he saw someone he knew who could also see the King—a certain King's Landing noble who had previously purchased bonds. Since the man had redeemed them just two days ago, they were acquaintances who had met twice and spoken dozens of words!
Thankfully, he hadn't asked for a penalty fee for the early redemption; at least now he didn't have to worry about the man pretending not to know him.
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