Chapter 50: Edric III
"My lord, the delegation is quite clear in their demands, they want there to be misunderstanding, and they want you to come to Winterfell to ensure that there is proper representation of all sides." Walter Long, a man who Edric had known his entire life said.
"And do you believe them?" Edric asked, he did not know whether his nephew was a Targaryen loyalist or not, but he did not trust the Targaryens.
"My lord, I think that this is an avenue worth exploring, we cannot keep fighting indefinitely." Walter replied. The man was right, for nearly two years they'd been fighting and fighting, the Company was nearly depleted of men, and their financial resources were drying up.
"Lord Bolton?" Edric asked, the man had been silent for most of their meetings as of late, and it was beginning to make Edric quite nervous. "What do you think should be done?"
Bolton was missing an eye, having lost it during one of the many skirmishes that had taken place since the White Knife. "I believe, my lord, that this would be a good thing to pursue, there are times when one must venture to the battlefield, and times where one must venture to the solar to discuss issues, this is one of those times."
"I would be more concerned about what Maekar Targaryen is doing here." Osric Umber, Lord of Last Hearth and his daughter's husband said. "That man is usually not someone who revels in diplomacy."
Edric nodded as his advisors hummed out their agreement. That there had been a Targaryen Prince serving in Beron's army had been something of a surprise, but that there had been another Prince coming to suggest talks for peace was another thing. Edric had never met Maekar Targaryen, he had met the man's father and found him lacking. "Very well, and what do you suggest be the terms of our conditions?" Edric did not want peace, he wanted Winterfell, but he also knew that if they kept fighting, things would not end well.
Ser Ryam Long, a man who had fought for Edric for thirty years spoke then. "I think that the only demand that must be made, is that you get Winterfell, my lord. You are the rightful lord, and that is the only thing that matters."
"I think there are valid concerns about what happens to Beron Stark and his children that need to be discussed." Lord Karstark said. The man had grown stout in his old age, and his hair was greying quickly. "The man has some eight children, most of them boys, they are going to use some form of the declaration that Daeron Targaryen issued as well as the Blackfyre connection. You can be sure that man's wife will use all avenues before her before she surrenders."
"You also have two sons, my lord. They will need wives, and the Targaryens might suggest their own daughters as brides, to bring better relations." Lord Bolton said, the way he said it made it seem as though he were not pleased with such a thought.
"A Targaryen marriage would not be a bad thing, my lords." Lord Corwyn Locke said, the man was small, with one eye missing and the other almost permanently shut, yet he was a fierce fighter and a good commander. "A marriage with the Targaryens would show that the issues of the past are behind us, and that you, my lord are willing to ensure that there is some form of stability and righteousness within the world. The north is needed by the rest of Westeros, not the other way around."
There were murmurs of agreement at that. "I agree with Lord Locke." Lord Hornwood said, this Hornwood was a young man, tall, muscular, a beast on the field of battle. "The Targaryens know they need our support more than we need them, Beron has shown a willingness to discuss and talk, his sons are young, and his wife is not popular. We have it all to gain."
"Very well, it has been decided then, No quarter shall be given in the negotiations." Edric concluded, clapping his hands and rising, signalling the end of the meeting. He knew that the issue of his nephew and his family remained, but that was not a question he wanted to answer in front of his lords, not when he had to discuss it with himself. As the lords got up and left, only Cregard, his eldest son and heir was left.
"Are you going to allow them to live in Winterfell?" Cregard asked, his son was tall, brown of hair, brown of beard and grey of eye. A handsome man.
Edric sighed, he felt bone tired. "I do not know yet. They would be useful in keeping there, but also difficult to control." He had spies in Winterfell. Beron Stark was ailing, his wounds taken at the White Knife were getting worse, but he showed no signs of dying yet. His wife continued to be a thorn in the side of Edric's take over. "Has Cerwyn spoken yet?" They'd captured Lord Cerwyn, the commander of Beron Stark's forces at the Battle of the Leaky Edge, and the man had been questioned intensely.
Cregard said nothing for a few moments, the boy merely fidgeted with some things here, and other things there. "I think there has been some movement from him yes. He's no longer strangely denying the fact that Lorra Royce is looking or was looking to bring more men from the mountain clans to fight in the war. Nor is he denying that Glover and Beron had an argument that might have cost them a betrothal."
"Very well, you may rest now." Edric said. His son nodded and left the room, Edric remained where he was for a few moments before he rang a bell, a servant entered. "Tell the messenger that we shall meet for talks. Not in Winterfell but in neutral ground."
The messenger bowed and left, Edric put a hand to his forehead and felt the wound there. It was growing bigger.
