The White Army's strength had always been its infantry , the iron core of Yarzat's might.Every man who bore the black and white had earned it through pain. They were tempered by endless drills, taught to kill as one, and rewarded as heroes , not just with coin, but with reverence.
To be part of the White Army was a mark of pride. You had to bring down a gate, but it certainly opened up many doors.
It wasn't arrogance to call them the finest army east of the Great Strait; it was fact.
Of course, that prestige came at a cost.The archers, competent though they were , were never given the same attention. Their bows were fine, their hands steady, but they were auxiliaries in a world that worshipped the blade. Resources went to the line troops, not the bowstrings. They were an afterthought, support for the true killers.
Still that did not mean they were fodder
So when the first report arrived, Alpheo almost didn't believe it.
