The entire city of Calma bustled like a stirred anthill as final preparations for the march to Northem began.
Blacksmiths hammered at dawn, their forges glowing with molten fire. Rows of armors and weapons—swords, spears, and short knives were laid out, inspected, polished to a gleam—then dulled again with ash, so as not to glint in the sun and betray their movement.
Medicines along with dried meat strips prepared by Samuel, Grandma Arlina, and the Gabirella Guild were packed in satchel bags, and each soldier was given one.
Horses were fed, groomed, and fitted with leather barding, crafted and assembled by Lina and her team of leathersmiths and seamstresses. They embossed Calman crest on them and on every fatigues they made for the soldiers. The scent of iron, sweat, and burning oil mingled in the air.
Thalia personally prepared Logan's satchel and handed it to him. She added more portions and stuffed more medicines.
