Chapter 22; Against the Blades of War;

Chatacters of the chapter

Edmond Brahms, Knight of Nevarra, Military advisor to the court of King Jon

Oren Redforge, Lord of the Upstart house Redforge

Jon Snow, also known as Aegon Targaryen and Jon Stark, King of the North Kingdom of the Twin Kingdoms

A clang echoed in the air as Longclaw struck a sword belonging to a man Jon was fighting. Both of the two men were on horseback and all around them similar scenes were taking place. This was the day of battle against house Warblade, to secure the vicinity of Winterfell before the northern army would move south to engage the Imperial main force. Jon and his opponent exchanged half dozen more blows before Jon chopped off the corner of his opponent's shield. Jon blocked one more blow from his enemy, then plunged his sword through his chest. His enemy fell from the saddle as his horse ran away, going into a frenzy of biting and kicking of anything that came near as warhorses were trained to do when their rider was thrown. Jon noticed that both friend and foe were moving away from him, so he directed his own horse back to his own lines.

The two sides were parting, the remaining skirmishes resolving themselves one by one, the survivors heading back to rally to their banners: for the northern loyalists the Direwolf on a white background, for House Warblade an orange banner with the swords crossed at the center with tips toward the ground, the center sword bright red, the other two dark grey. All that was left in the widening gap between their lines were the dead men and horses from their clash.

Now that the two armies were separated once again they began to reform their units, preparing for another charge. As soon as the cavalry groups were far enough apart to avoid friendly fire, archers from both sides sent arrows at the opposing army. Next to Jon a rider armored in boiled leather and chainmail went down, a pair of arrows puncturing his chest. Jon turned his eyes to the opposing army and cursed under his breath. "This is taking too long." Jon thought.

At first Jon had intended to confront House Warblade at the Dreadfort where they had taken up residence, only for his scouts to come to him, telling they had found it deserted. His scouts had spotted the enemy host moving southward not long thereafter. Believing that House Warblade was seeking to flee and join up with the Orlesian forces, Jon had quickly given his army the order to give chase, maneuvering his troops in such a way as to block the enemy's intended path, finally pinning them down in the region known as Sheepshead Hills. As evening set in after a day of pursuit the enemy had finally concluded there was no getting away and had turned to fight them. The days fighting had begun when the cavalry units had encountered one another in a terrain of low moors and grassland. The enemy host was perhaps a third of the size of his, but had a decently sized contingent of medium and heavy cavalry ready to descend into the valley between several hilltops through which Jon's army was approaching. Behind them House Warblade infantry were holding one of the hilltops, promising a brutal uphill battle to those who would try to take it from them.

Jon had sought to break the opposing cavalry, leaving the enemy main force without support and had ordered a charge. House Warblade had chosen the obvious response and done a countercharge. Unfortunately his opponents had proven somewhat more resilient than he had hoped for. Neither side had managed to break the other, and after a while both sides had disengaged to regroup and try again. This was now the fifth time in this cycle of attack and withdraw and all either side had managed to do was chip away at the other, failing to achieve a decisive result. And now Jon was running short of time. He would have time for one more charge, perhaps two. After that he would have to move his cavalry to the flanks to unfavorable terrain on the hillsides, or risk them getting pinned between the groups of infantry. Should that happen there would be a massacre that would destroy his cavalry. Of course the enemy would be losing their cavalry as well in the bargain, but he needed his riders more than they needed theirs. He still had the Orlesian main host to face, and he could not lose the best portion of his army before that.

Once his cavalry moved to the flanks he would have to try to turn the flank on the enemy and win the battle that way. The enemy would follow and try to stop him, undoubtedly leading to hard fighting on the flanks. Meanwhile the infantry would be fighting a pitched battle in the center. But once things went that far, who knows how much longer this fight would drag on for? That was the real problem facing Jon today. He already knew he would win today. His army's numerical advantage over his current foe all but guaranteed it. The question that now remained was how costly his victory would be. Every minute lost was one more the Orlesians had to conduct their own plans, every soldier lost was one more that would not be taking part in defending the north against the real invader. House Warblade had apparently realized this as well and based on their current tactics had made it their objective in today's battle to delay Jon's victory for as long as possible while inflicting as much damage as they could, such had been the tenacity of their resistance. Maybe they thought he would retreat if his army sustained too much damage, giving them an opportunity to escape after all? Or maybe they were simply spiteful, thinking to take as many northmen with them as they could before they perished. Ultimately their motivations in choosing their strategy did not matter, only the consequences born of it. Jon would have to change this around. He needed a cleaner victory today. The greater conflict demanded it.

"Perhaps I should not be surprised that House Warblade can offer such effective resistance." Jon thought bitterly. House Warblade had begun as a small band of mercenaries from Essos, attracted to Westeros during the War of the Five Kings. That was until they had chosen to settle in the North, declaring themselves to be lords of territories left abandoned in the wars before the formation of the Twin Kingdoms. They had adapted well to the ways of Westerosi warfare, becoming one of the toughest and meanest fighting groups in the Twin Kingdoms, their army raised and maintained by the people they now ruled over. Claiming land for themselves had not exactly stopped their mercenary ways. Instead they had sold their services in small conflicts in Thedas and Essos, integrating new lessons learned in foreign lands to their military doctrine after each time. They had even sneaked a few soldiers into some rivalries between Westerosi houses, most notably in the battle of Spring Fields, where their participation had been bought by house Kronos. In their battles they had never made an ideological stand, always fighting for the highest bidder. It seemed that today the highest bidder was the Orlesian Empire, seeing as they were now in full scale rebellion against their rightful King and Queen.

Jon had considered marching against House Warblade when they had first declared themselves. But the Upstart Houses had smartly banded together, promising to support each other, with the exception of the then recently formed House Stallion that had declared to only fight alongside those who the Queen commanded them to. To assault one would mean facing them all. No doubt the Twin Kingdoms could have won the rebellion that would have resulted, but it would have been a prolonged affair, hunting down the Upstart Houses one by one. And every day spent campaigning would push that much further away the sorely needed rebuilding effort, the war effort soaking up the needed resources. And even with Drogon aiding their cause many lives would have likely been lost in the affair. With their armies and countries wounded by years of near constant warfare, he and Daenerys had eventually decided to pursue a path of avoiding active confrontation with the Upstart Houses, choosing instead the path of tolerance, albeit with great unease on their part. It had seemed a doable thing at that time, since not a single one of the Upstart houses had denied that the two of them were the rightful rulers of the Twin Kingdoms. Even in the worst case scenario they had thought they could handle the Upstart Houses later on, when their armies had had time to recover, should there be need. Of cource that plan had not accounted for foreign nations appearing out of nowhere and creating an unexpected external threat. And so these Upstart Houses had remained, although neither he nor Daenerys had agreed to name them into the nobility. To do so would have caused an instant and violent uproar among existing nobility. Instead the Upstart houses had remained in a strange in-between-state, powerful and in control of territories but not recognized as legitimate powers in Westeros.

Jon could not deny their presence had had their good sides. Since none of the Upstart Houses had ancient and glorious bloodlines to call upon a lot of them had made their name in trade. The upstart houses had until now paid their taxes without complaint, helping to refill the emptied coffers in Westeros. Though he was loathe to admit it, he knew that the contributions of the Upstart Houses had got them past some very tough times in the past eight years. That had been reason enough to tolerate them even if they occasionally overstepped their bounds. Now Jon was wondering if allowing them to exist had been a terrible mistake all along. It had placed an unexpected enemy right in their midst and allowed foreign powers to use their own people as sword fodder. Six thousand men, nearly two thousand of them on horseback. If not for the betrayal of the Upstart Houses those six thousand could have marched with him against the Orlesian invader. Instead he would have to kill them, and lose who knows how many of his own men in the bargain. This betrayal was not one Jon would forgive easily.

Even as Jon was frantically searching his mind for a quick solution to today's battle his cavalry had almost finished reforming. Seeing no easy way out he almost resignedly signaled another charge to begin, until a sudden horn sounding in the distance somewhere to the left caught his attention. Turning his head in the direction of the sound Jon saw columns of riders charging in over the hills, smashing into the flank of the enemy cavalry. The enemy infantry was also engaged, apparently by foot soldiers and additional cavalry engaging them from behind, routing House Warblade Archers before carrying on to the melee infantry units.

Jon noticed the banner carried by these new troops: It was black in color, with a blood red anvil at the center, a red hammer striking that anvil above it. And among one of the attacking groups he noticed a knight with a purple shield with a crowned skull with a star on its forehead, remembering that it belonged to Brahms, being the symbol of Nevarra.

"House Redforge… he did it!" Jon said, smiling.

"Cavalry is to attack the left flank. We will add our strength to our allies. Infantry to advance and engage the enemy center and right flank." He told the rider beside him, who raised a horn to his lips and blew out a series of notes, relaying Jon's commands to the rest of the army. Jon spurred his horse to a gallop towards the enemy, his army following close behind.

On another portion of the battlefield the unit Edmond was riding with also made contact with the enemy. Unprepared to be attacked on their flanks, House Warblade cavalry fell into chaos, many of them killed instantly, others routed and sent fleeing, while the remainder turned to fight their attackers.

With his shield Edmond swatted aside a spear trying to strike at him, dodging another one moments later. He rode on, striking a shield of an enemy soldier hard enough to knock the rider off the saddle. Edmond then raised his sword, striking at another enemy cavalryman that came near him. His opponent had no time to block the Nevarran knight's attack. The blade struck his neck, the galloping horse yielding the blow tremendous momentum, resulting in the soldier being damn near decapitated, a geyser of blood erupting from the wound. A significant portion of the red fluid was sprayed on Edmond, some of it striking Edmond's face through the opening in his helmet.

The effect on Edmond was almost instantaneous. Giving a gasp of horror he threw himself back in the saddle, almost losing his balance and falling off the saddle. All color drained from his face, his breath quick and shuddering, he brought his horse to a halt, ignoring the cavalry of House Redforge still charging forward all around him. Feeling that he could not breathe he discarded his sword and pulled off his helmet, letting it slip from his grasp. He remained there, seated atop his horse, eyes glassy, a hum in his ears, breathing in and out, trying to collect himself. He was truly fortunate that no foe found him in that moment, for he would have been cut down with ease, simply because he was so distracted.

"Oi! This is no time for standing about! Get a move on, there's a battle to win here!" A Redforge rider shouted, stopping near him.

Edmond raised his eyes to meet the other man's, staring at him blank faced, and said nothing, just quivering slightly.

"Hey! You listening to me? What in the hells are you doing?" The rider demanded insistently. When Edmond still did not respond he rode off, leaving him behind.

Eventually Edmond managed to get ahold of himself, noticing that the battle had moved almost to its conclusion in his absence. Embarrassed he spat out a curse aimed at himself, briefly dismounted to retrieve his sword and helmet, then climbed back on his horse and rode back to the battle, deciding to still go and do his part as best he was able before it was all over.

He hoped that this time he was able to maintain control of himself and that his personal issues would not cause him any more complications today.

Meanwhile Jon was finishing off his last opponent of the day. Afterwards he took a look at the battlefield.

The attack of House Redforge had left House Warblade confused and in disarray, and Jon's army had exploited this to full effect, ending the battle in one swift move. The enemy was now in full retreat, scattering in all directions, and the way they were going about it told Jon that they would not be returning to fight in this war. This was helped along by the fact that his own soldiers were still all over the place, hunting down the stragglers. A lot of the enemy would end up killed, though some would be taken prisoner. In that case Jon would have to decide what to do with them. For now he was unsure what that should be. His anger was toward House Warblade itself and its leadership, not necessarily the men who served that house. On one hand they had committed treason by raising themselves against their King and the North, but on the other hand Jon was not naïve enough to think that all of them had had a say in the matter.

"So what should I do? What is the honorable course of action?" Jon thought. "Ultimately it will come down to what they believe." He then decided. Those that were here only because this upstart Lord had told them that they must, they might be forgiven, allowed to seek redemption. Those who served the enemy cause, who believed in it might prove irredeemable.

"Your Grace! We meet again." A voice interrupted Jon's musings. He turned in the saddle and saw a thick set man in heavy armor riding to him, carrying a one handed warhammer in one hand and a large black metal shield with a red hammer and anvil on its surface. All equipment he had made himself Jon knew, for he recognized the man.

"Lord Redforge. It's good to see you're here. At least the circumstances are better than the last time we met." Jon said in greeting.

"Your timing today was quite impeccable. I could not have easily flanked House Warblade without being spotted and countered. They weren't expecting you, so you managed it. You saved me a lot of time, and a lot of people. Thank you for that." Jon said.

"Happy to help. To be fair some thanks belongs to your Nevarran also. He made some great deductive work to put our scouts on the right path. Fortunately he knew where your army had been earlier. And it was his idea to attack from the flank and rear at the same time. I would have just gone straight at them and taken my chances. He even volunteered to lead the flanking cavalry so we could carry out the attack." Lord Redforge said, lifting the visor of his helmet.

"I must confess that I'm somewhat surprised that you're here at all. Given that mess between you and the Inquisition I had assumed there would be hard feelings between us." Jon said.

Oren Redforge chuckled. "Well, its true that while I may not be attacking the Inquisition again, my disagreements with them are far from over. And I still consider you to have been in error in your rulings on the matter. But these are different circumstances. I may not agree with everything you do but at least with you I know where we stand. You are a known quantity, whereas the Orlesian Emperor is a complete stranger to me, and judging by his actions no friend to the people of Westeros. Of course I did hear rumors that the Emperor offered to recognize the traitors as lords in exchange for their support, but I trust not such an offer made by someone I am not familiar with. Now, if you made such an offer I would be interested. You are a man of honor, so I know you would keep your word. Your offer would be genuine."

Jon nodded, understanding. "I would certainly consider giving such a thing to a loyal commander of forces who happened not to be a lord as of yet. I would think on it very carefully. Loyalty should be rewarded. Of course such a reward would have to wait until the end of the war. And of course I would warrant that the said person would remain loyal throughout."

"Of course. That is the very least you should ask for." Lord Redforge said, giving a slight bow of his head.

"Do you happen to know what happened to Lord Warblade?" Jon asked then.

"He is dead. His head happened to have a very unfortunate collision with my hammer." Oren said, lifting the weapon in his hands.

"Then that's it for his house. He had no family did he?" Jon said.

"No, he never got around to establishing one. With his death and the death or capture of his inner circle of officers House Warblade has come to its end. And given the amount of damage we did today I think the enemy army will disband. A small number might make it to the Orlesians, but not so many that it will make any difference one way or the other. A somewhat bigger issue might be stragglers and deserters who might resort to pillaging the countryside to survive. With your permission I'll leave some patrols in this region to weed out these marauders as they emerge." Lord Redforge said.

"You have my permission. But only hunt those who engage in such activities. Those who aren't harming anyone and simply wish to return home to their families are no longer any concern of ours." Jon replied.

"Understood." Orens said with a nod. Then he looked past the King and smiled. "Well, well. Look who it is."

Jon turned and saw Edmond on his horse, slowly trotting to them, his helmet on the crook of his arm. "Ser Brahms, I hear you performed well today in getting Lord Redforge's army here. My thanks for that." Jon said in greeting.

"Are you all right? You look a little unwell." He asked then, noting how pale the Nevarran knight looked.

"Yes, yeah, fine." Edmond mumbled.

"Say, one of my guys said that you just froze in the middle of the charge. What was that about? Fighting not exactly your thing?" Lord Redforge asked, bringing his horse closer.

"I…I…" Edmond stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the subject.

"Ach, I wouldn't worry about it lad." Oren said, giving Edmond a reassuring pat on the soldier. "Everyone reacts to such things differently. I've known dozens who have difficulties with this, some of them my friends. Good people, but they always need to do a little adjusting before they are ready for combat.

"You didn't run away, you obviously didn't wet yourself and you did your share of fighting at some point by the look of you. That's good enough for me." He said, pointing at the blood on his armor. Edmond glanced at where he was pointing, then quickly averted his eyes.

"Yeah… so I did." He said quietly.

"Ser Brahms, see to the state of our prisoners. Get my men to sort them out and find a place to put them in. They are to be brought together this evening, and I'll deal with them then. Meanwhile Lord Redforge and I will be dealing with the battles aftermath here. After you are finished on the orders join me at the command tent so we may plan our next move.

"Yes your Grace." Edmond said and rode off. Jon waited until he had ridden some distance, then turned his head to look at his retreating form, frowning.

"Assassins!? They sent assassins after my family!?" Jon shouted in the command tent later on, slamming a letter he had been reading a moment ago to the table. "Don't these Orlesians have a shred of honor in them? Is there anything they won't do to win?" He snarled.

"Soldiers and commoners might be a different case, but as far as their highborn are concerned I think their perception of honor is rather different from what it means here. In Orlais nobles do this kind of thing to each other all the time. Of course their preferred method is to trick their peers into social ruin, but from time to time they need more permanent solutions. And the Emperor cares more about getting results than how he got them." Edmond said.

"I sense the hand of Marquis Briala behind this move though, her way of helping the invasion along. Word is she was a spy before she began working for the Emperor and commands a sizeable network and resources to requisition more if necessary. It would be a simple matter for her to arrange an attack like this." He added.

"If that's true then may they both burn in the deepest of the seven hells for this. I'll have none do harm to my family without consequence." Jon said, cold anger in his voice. "First an unprovoked invasion, then treason among the Upstart Houses I have no doubt they orchestrated, and now this. It seems there is no limit to the atrocities they would commit against us. I just wonder what they have thought of next, and I dread finding out."

Then Jon sighed. "At least Sansa tells me that everyone in my family is alive and well, and that Winterfell was not taken."

"I do worry about Daenerys though. If the the Orlesians were bold enough to do this, they might have gone after her too. I'll have to send a raven to enquire." Jon added.

"We should also increase security measures here. They might not have attacked you yet, but they might try that later." Edmond said.

"Agreed, for myself and for the Lords here." Jon said with a nod. "I'll also have two hundred men sent to reinforce Winterfell, just in case. That's all I can spare. The rest of us have to press forward. There's still a war that needs to be won. Call the lords together, so we can plan for the next phase."

With that Edmond briefly left to fetch the northern lords. He returned soon, Jon's Lord's beginning to drift into the command tent after him. Some were old houses that had been in the service of House Stark for centuries. Others were newer, elevated by Jon to take place of Houses that had fallen in the terrible wars before the formation of the Twin Kingdoms. Being so new, the more recently formed houses had a hard time proving that they were deserving of the same respect and authority as more established houses. Still, they were better off in this regard than the Upstart Houses that were not even appointed by him and as such weren't truly lords at all. Perhaps that was why the Upstart Houses preferred to call themselves the New Houses and muddy the waters about their status. Not that that worked very well. Most preferred to call them the Upstart Houses to avoid that very confusion.

"So, what do you intend to do?" Lord Redforge asked after the lords had finally assembled.

"With the destruction of house Warblade the North is secure for the time being, leaving us free to move against the Orlesian army itself. The army will move to Moat Cailin. We will need to move quickly to make sure we can secure Moat Cailin before any Orlesian troops can get to it. Once we arrive we will send out scouting forces to determine the position of the Orlesian forces. Our next move depends on the actions of our enemy. If they begin moving north we will mount our defense at Moat Cailin, where the numerical advantage of the Imperials will count for less. If on the other hand they move against the South Kingdom we will pursue them and engage their forces from behind to support our allies that way." Jon detailed.

"Lord Glover." Jon called out, and the said lord stepped out of the crowd.

"I will give you command of five hundred men. You will ride ahead of us as fast as possible to Moat Cailin and prepare the castle for our arrival. Ensure it is ready to be defended if necessary. If the Orlesians appear you are to hold your ground until the rest of us get there . I know in such a case you would likely be badly outnumbered, but you must hold your ground, no matter what. Under no circumstances are the Orlesians to be permitted to enter the North. The suitable terrain should help you maintain control." Jon said to him.

"And Lord Glover? You will not fail me. Am I understood?" He added coolly as Lord Glover was about to turn away. Lord Glover nodded, suppressing a shiver, and returned to the crowd.

Jon's words made some of the other lords smirk, while others gave the King concerned looks. The tone he had used with Lord Glover was not one he typically addressed his lords with, and so it caught some of them by surprise. Lord Glover, however, was something of a special case. Twice he had failed to honor his House's oaths to House Stark. First before the so called Battle of the Bastards, where he had failed to provide his support against House Bolton. The second, arguably worse instance had come just before the Battle of Nightfall, when the fate of the North and potentially the world had hung in the balance. After the second time Jon had seriously considered having him sentenced for oathbreaking. But after the wars had come to their end he had ultimately decided to focus his attention on rebuilding, deciding that the North had sustained enough wounds without him adding more to it. Had Jon had another senior Lord on hand that he didn't need with him he might have sent someone else. But perhaps this was not all bad. If he performed well he would have an opportunity to redeem himself. Still, the next time he would fail him… would be the last time he would fail him.

"In the meantime Lord Manderly continues to hold White Harbor in response to the continuing presence of the Orlesian fleet." Jon moved on. "Because the Manderly fleet has been driven away and the Orlesian army continues to block the land routes our information on the goings on in the South Kingdom is very limited. Last messages received put the Queen's army somewhere near the Ruby Ford, but that is all we know. Once we have more information, we will let you know. I'm also aware that the Orlesian fleet presence has been choking trade, and that has been cutting into the income of a lot of you here, further compounded by the sealing of the Corridor to Westerosi ships. Rest assured I'm seeking the means to correct that situation. Even so, with the Manderly fleet gone we may have to rely on our allies to destroy the enemy naval forces." Jon said.

"And the Corridor, your Grace? Will we be attacking it to reopen it for our use?" One of his Lords asked.

"I'm afraid that objective will be beyond us even if we had an available fleet to transports troops with. We don't have the resources to fight an offensive war and defend ourselves against the Imperial Army, and the Corridor is designed to be all but impervious to any attack that we could conceive. The best way to get the Corridor open to us again is to win this war here." Jon replied.

"Well then, do any of you have anything to report?" He asked then.

When no one spoke up Jon nodded. "Then that is all for the time being. Lord Glover's group is to depart as soon as they are ready to travel. The rest of us will move out tomorrow morning. You may return to your duties."

With that the Lords began to leave.

"There still has not been any word from Lady Mormont. At this point it can no longer be explained by being late. I don't think she's going to show. Wonder what on earth happened? It's a real shame too. She's young but she had the makings of a decent battlefield commander, never afraid to speak her mind in council's like this and she was always reliable no matter what. I could have given her command of a flank. And frankly I would have been much more comfortable having her lead a vanguard force to Moat Cailin than Lord Glover." Jon contemplated to Edmond and Lord Oren as he watched the tent slowly empty.

"But there is no use in wallowing over could have beens. The situation is what it is and we have to make do with what we have." He said then. "Have the prisoners been gathered together as I instructed?" Jon asked of Edmond.

"Yes Your Grace. They are waiting for you." Edmond replied.

"Good. Then let's get this done." Jon said.

He followed Edmond to where the prisoners were being kept. The place was little more than an opens space surrounded by his soldiers. Further on there were a series of quickly constructed pens where the prisoners would be staying. The prisoners themselves numbered only a few hundred. Apparently the rest of the enemy soldiers were dead or scattered to the winds. Jon wondered just how many might have been trying to surrender, only to be cut down by his soldiers.

As he approached them the prisoners stood up, eyeing him warily. Jon observed them for a moment before he began speaking to them:

"Soldiers of House Warblade. You have fought well. But now that fight is finished. Lord Warblade is dead. He has no heirs, none to take up his mantle. With his death House Warblade has come to its end, and so you are now free of whatever obligation that bound you to him."

Jon took a pause before continuing. "Each of you had your own reasons for doing what you did. Some of you did this because the man whose land you happened to live on told you that you must. Some of you did this because you thought that you would be rewarded for so doing. And some of you had the misguided notion that doing this was the right thing. Ultimately… none of those reasons matter… because none of them change what you have done. You took up arms against your people and your kingdom. You committed treason. The punishment for treason is death."

"However…" Jon said, holding up his hand and raising his voice a fraction to quiet the sounds of fear that began to emanate from the prisoners. "…there is another option for you, a way for you to atone. You can fight for me. Renew your oaths to the North and aid me in defeating the real enemy facing Westeros. Fight for me loyally and never raise yourself against the Twin Kingdoms again, and at the end of this war I will consider your crimes amended for."

"Who will follow me?" Jon asked of the prisoners. After a moment of silence one of the prisoners took a knee. One by one others followed his example, until most of them were kneeling. A few of them, perhaps a dozen, defiant, remained standing.

"You will not follow? I will only offer this to you once." Jon warned.

"We stood for House Warblade. We won't stand for you. You are no King of ours." One of them said to him.

Jon nodded. "So be it."

He pointed at the prisoner's still standing: "Take them away. I will deal with them when time permits."

"The rest of you… you did the right thing. Welcome to my army. I'll let you know where you have been assigned shortly. Until then I would ask that you remain here." Jon said, then left, Edmond following him out.

"What are you going to do with those that refused?" Edmond asked as they were walking back to the command tent.

"I'll give them a few days to contemplate their choices. Then I'll meet with each of them privately. If any of them express regret then I'll have them sent to the Wall. Those that remain defiant will have exhausted their options. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and so I shall." Jon replied.

Edmond nodded. "Hard choices, but I think that course of action is your best option. You give them as many options as you dare, and do as you have to do."

"I can't say I envy the situation of those that agreed to join your side either though. Poor lads." He added.

"How so? They get a chance at life." Jon asked.

"Aye, they will, but I can already guess your next course of action. You are not going to keep these former prisoners as a single unit. You know that would be too dangerous should they decide to turn on you later. Instead you will divide them up to patch the gaps in your existing units, ensuring that those you are not sure you can trust are surrounded on all sides by people loyal to you. They will end up as replacements for people they may well have been involved killing in the first place. They are going to be abused, you know that right?" Edmond said.

Jon nodded gravely. "My means are limited, and my mercy extends only so far. I never told them that the path to redemption would be an easy one. I merely told them of their options and pointed them in the right direction. The rest is up to them. Whatever hardships they face now are the price they pay for the mistakes they made."

"Of course, Your Grace." Edmond said.