Mar 4, 2018
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#1
Book One - Blood In The River
7th Moon 10BCE
Riverrun
Axel found me down in the cellar where House Tully kept all its wines.
Axel being the little brother that I never had but Edmyn Tully, heir to House Tully always had. His big blue eyes were looking at me with nothing more than sheer worry as I poured myself another goblet of wine.
We both looked alike really. So much alike if it wasn't for the fact that he was taller, spotted a pug nose and some freckles sprinkled across his face and his frame being stockier than mine, we could have been mistaken for twins. We both spotted the famous red hair of our lineage along with the accompanying blue eyes and unsurprisingly, fair skin as well to go with that combo.
Axel had already watched me down two such drinks and it seemed he was about ready to speak up to it. "Brother, are you alright? You are drinking too much." He said, the tone of his voice showed that he couldn't choose to either be chiding or worried with my behaviour.
"Oh, I am fantastic!" It was amazing that Edmyn held the sort of resistance to alcohol that I wished that I held. This was like my fifth cup and I was still able to have my wits about me. I poured myself another cup. "Just bleeding fantastic little brother. Why would you even ask such a thing?"
"Because I can't tell whether you are crying from happiness or despair." I did not know that I was crying. He paused for a moment. "You are really starting to scare me."
Yeah, well, boo hoo.
Drinking myself under was the only solution that I had come up when it had dawned upon me like some blasted hellvision straight from the goddamned Warp that I was in the lands of sunshine and butterflies that was Westeros.
Just to make things even better, I was not in canon Westeros where the books were set where if I had found myself there, I would be more confidant in my ability to survive.
No, instead, I was in, by the looks of things, pre-Conquest Westeros. A somewhat tamer Warring States Period that just so happened to be a nearly unknown quantity for me.
How was I going to survive in a land were Black Harren was still a thing?
I don't even know if Edmyn Tully actually did anything or whether this was just a random OC the powers that be created and thrust me into its body. It's not like Martin had been detailed about the lineages and events of the world and families he had created.
I started pouring myself another cup before I stopped, the taste of wine now having entrenched itself onto my tongue. I sighed as I pushed the cup away and set the bottle. "Aye, I'm beginning to scare myself too."
Drinking wasn't exactly going to help me as of now. Or anytime really, unless I want a destroyed liver as my answer to this situation. Memories of Cersei fucking shit up with a cup of wine in hand were more than enough to bring me back to my wits.
I was probably going to pay for that wine later on.
Axel didn't look like he believed me at all, but he slowly nodded his head. "Kevan was looking for you. He wishes to go over the accounts once more," my new brother stopped for a moment as he bit his lips, eyebrows etching closer together in something half a frown and half thoughtful look. "something about savings needed to be made to make sure we have enough for the next payment of Harren's taxes. I could have Kevan see to Jaime or me if you do not wish to see to it."
I tried not to blink owlishly.
How old was Edmyn? A quick look through his mind told me that he was seven-and-ten or seventeen for plebeians like me and this younger brother of mine only five-and-ten.
Looking over these memories, it became quite apparent to me that these Brothers Tully were far more mature than I had ever been. They were already dealing with feudal business like no tomorrow.
Would it look out of character for me if I didn't want to deal with that sort of thing? Another quick through the memory told me that it would be a little out of character. Only illness and injury had kept Edmyn out of the affairs of House Tully when he came of age, our parents having long predeceased us.
"No, I'll come." I rose to my feet, a sudden head rush from the speed of it all hitting me. I hated those things. "My problems should not affect the affairs of our house."
Axel didn't say anything, but he nodded nonetheless. "You might want to wipe away the tears, brother."
"Oh right, yes." I said as I wiped them away with the back of my tunic-shirt thing that I was wearing.
It seemed that my life as Edmyn Tully was off to a great start. Hopefully, it won't suck.
Who am I kidding? It's going to suck.
This was Westeros, where everything sucked and other worldly powers lurked beyond the veil of reality just about ready to make it suck even more.
The only good thing that came to mind about this whole thing was the fact that I didn't have to deal with Westeros and the Others at the same time. If that was the case, I might as well just give up because I can't win with any of that nonsense.
Me and my new brother made our way towards the lord's solar. Something of an awkward silence seemed to hang around us as we made our way through the halls of Riverrun.
I didn't do awkward silences very well. I did comfortable silences, not awkward ones.
"So," I began, trying to think of something that would lighten the mood. "between you and me, that little thing there never happened."
"I won't say anything if that's what you are worried about. I'd wager you might need to bribe some of the castle servants though. They are the ones who directed me to where you were."
"It's nice to know that you are covering my back here, little brother. Your ability to care astounds me."
"Well, I suppose there is always the headsman."
I blinked owlishly at him. "...Was that a jape?" Nothing at all about the mess of memories of Axel even remotely directed to him being anything remotely bloody thirsty. Just the dutiful second son of House Tully. "Cos if it isn't, we are trying very hard at the moment not to become Black Harren here."
He snorted at my words before he spoke, his voice laced with venom at the mention of our honourable and just ruler. "It would take far more than the rolling of a few heads to bring us to the notoriety of Harren."
"I suppose you have a point there. We'll probably need to have all the servants beheaded and that's after they have built a monument to our over blown sense of ego."
Axel snorted and the silence was now a bit more to my bearing of not being completely suffocating.
If someone told me that Kevan Paege was a distant cousin to the Tullys, I would have believed them. He had red hair, but his of a much bright and shocking colour of red and his eyes a more mundane blue than the bright stars of mine and Axel's. Funnily enough, he probably was a distant cousin.
The Paeges were landed knights that were sworn directly to Riverrun. If I looked back hard enough in their lineages, I was sure I could find a Tully daughter or three marrying into the house.
"Ah, Edmyn, Axel!" He greeted us in quite the informal manner that it nearly took me for a loop. I would have figured something like that would not be done in Westerosi culture until the moment I recalled this guy had been serving as the steward of Riverrun long before me and Axel were born. He was about as constant in Edmyn's memories as that of our parents and the maester, Jaime. "Glad you are here quickly. We might have a problem." He finished, gesturing towards said maester who stood at the side, a placid expression of neutrality on his face.
Axel looked between the two older men. "A problem?"
"The Brackens and Blackwoods have decided to end their raiding's of each other's lands."
"I don't see how that's a problem. Most would assume that's a good thing." Axel said, but I could see the problem.
"They just went from raiding each other to full blown war, didn't they?" I asked in dead pan, just about ready to face palm.
Actually, hold on, at some point in the riverlands history, during the reign of Harren, those two idiots got themselves into a bit of a tiff that forced Harren to come and disband the warring between the two of them personally.
There was an opportunity here, I could feel it lazily forming in the events as they unfolded.
Now this all depended if this Bracken-Blackwood war was the one I was thinking about. Then again, it has been a long-ass time since I read The World of Ice and Fire and I could be jumping the shark here. Seemed like I'll just have to wait and see.
The steward of Riverrun with a grimace, nodded his head. "Unfortunately, yes. This might very well affect the sort of retribution Harren would bring on us in taxes."
"Idiots," Axel muttered underneath his breath angrily. "They should be conserving their strength for the time when the Hoares are removed from the riverlands, but they spent it fighting amongst themselves."
I would ask why they were even fighting, but I felt it would be a stupid question and thus didn't bother. Instead, I stroked at my chin in anticipation. "How many men can we, on the sly, call up?"
Kevan reared his head back in surprise at my line of questioning. "What? Why would we do that?"
"No particular reason, just want to know."
I don't think he believed my answer, but at the same time, I found myself not really caring. I just wanted to know. It wasn't as if I was asking him to call the banners or anything like that.
"Some several thousand men perhaps? Ser Patrek would know more to the actual numbers." To my surprise, it was Axel who answered me. Red eyebrows furrowed together and a hand cupping his chin as his eyes stared into the floor deep in thought. "Harren's last... tithe had taken most of the able smallfolk in our lands. I should know, I was there leading them into the ironborn's barges." He spoke those last words bitterly and having something of an occasional acquittance with the emotion, shame as well.
"What about knights? Men on horseback?"
We would need to move fast and horses moved fast better than peasant levies that had not even been trained even once or used to long distance marches.
"Not that many I'm afraid. Perhaps some couple hundreds though we might find some occasional farm boy with a horse with dreams of glory or fame." Axel looked at me curiously. "What are you thinking brother?"
"Yes, my lord," the maester was studying me that was for sure. It was the only way that could explain the way he was looking at me so intently. "What are you thinking?"
"An idea."
Something that poor old Kevan didn't seem to like at all by the way that he reacted. "An idea that might bring House Tully to ruin no doubt!" the steward bit out harshly. "I don't know what's gotten into you Edmyn, but for the love of the old gods and the new, for the love and memory of your parents, think about what you are trying to do! Whatever idea that might floating through your mind might just very well be the ruin of House Tully!"
I faltered then and there. Kevan had a point. The man had a point and I had to give it to him that consideration. If this thing went bollocks up and things don't go about how I think this particular feud between my two neighbours was going to end up, then I'm shit out of luck.
Then again, being in Westeros meant I was shit outta luck to begin with.
"We have already brought ruin and dishonour to House Tully either way." Axel levelled a look on the steward. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Axel clenching and unclenching a fist. "I can understand what you are saying, Kevan, but you were not there. You. Were. Not. There. I was though. I was there when we had to separate men, women and children from their families. Some were brave, but most begged. They begged for us to help them. To protect them. To be the ones they call their lords yet me and my men led them all away to be taken into Harren's cruel embrace, knowing that none of them will ever come back or see their loved ones ever again."
His eyes were now fiercely trying to give quite the look in Kevan's general direction. "The smallfolk might just be numbers to you on your parchments of paper, but to me, they are people. I'd rather die knowing I did something that not doing anything at all." He then turned to me, a certain determination plain to see on his face. "Whatever you decide to do brother, my sword hand is yours to do as you wish."
That was... nice, I suppose.
"I haven't decided on anything yet brother." I made a motion with my hand. "It all depends on how far the Brackens and Blackwoods take their little war and how Harren responds. Until then, let's just keep our ears to the ground and see what happens."
All the while, making preparations as quietly as possible. No need to give our hand away and all that.
Speaking of which, maybe I should reach out some to my family in the west. The Mallisters might prove to be handy. Edmyn did spend some of his youth in that part of the world as a squire and made some useful connections.
It was time to use them.
After giving out my orders to the maester and we began to file out of the solar, Kevan couldn't help but shake his head. "For all our sakes Edmyn, I hope you know what you are doing."
I doubted telling him that I didn't know what I was doing would give him much faith in my plan.
So, in the end, I didn't answer.
At some point in time, I supposed I would have to personally thank the Brackens and Blackwoods for being complete and utter morons who don't know when to let things lie.
I have always been somewhat amazed by the story between the two and about how long their incessant fighting had been going on for. I'd wager that at some point, someone with a cooler head would have turned up in both houses and tried to bring an end to their constant fighting that had pretty much effectively invited not one, but two foreign invaders into the riverlands.
The Blackwoods had brought Storm King Arlan, Third of His Name, to help them fight against the Teagues. Granted, in a spectacular bit of misogyny, the riverlords had effectively gave Arlan no choice in doing nothing more than adding the entirety of the region into his own kingdom, but still, that was something.
Even if I could understand their motivations for seeking help from Arlan against Humfrey I Teague.
The Brackens though... they had no excuse in the slightest.
Stabbing someone in the back whilst they were fighting against raping invaders who wouldn't be half as nice as Storm's End? There was bad form, then there was being a complete and utter asshole. Considering the fact that the Blackwoods were just about ready to send Harwyn Hoare and his raiders back into the seas that they so much loved.
Beside me, Axel brought his blood-red destrier to stand beside my own destrier of midnight black. "Brother," he began, his voice low. "what are we doing?"
"Waiting." I replied.
"For what?" He jerked towards the front of us, through the foliage and low hanging, leaf covered branches of ancient trees into the field before us. A field that was currently field with warring men. "Good rivermen are dying out there!"
Shadowfax, my horse, pawed at the ground underneath, digging up dirt as he became restless and most likely smelled the blood that was in the air. "We are outnumbered."
"We are at their rear." Brother bit back. "The ironborn won't know what hit them until it's too late! If we wait any longer, the chance will disappear right in front of us!"
On my other side, our Mallister cousin, Lyam, looked from the battle to me, a pleading in his eyes. "We should help. Though the Brackens and Blackwoods might have brought this folly upon themselves, this is nothing more than slaughter of good riverfolk."
His presence had been something of a surprise.
Lord Mallister had been ambivalent in his messages between the two of us that I was just about ready to give up in trying to wrangle out some sort of assistance from him. Therefore, it was something of a complete surprise to me that Lyam turned up at Riverrun with some travelling 'merchants'.
I say 'merchants' because they were not really merchants. More like men-at-arms, knights and some others Lyam had been able to round up, dressed in common clothing to avoid the unwanted eyes of others.
I don't think Lord Mallister knew Lyam had come, but he more than likely knew now considering we boasted quite the armoured knights from Seagard. Knights that wore plain plate that gave no indication of which houses they served.
Much like Lyam now. He wore no tabard or livery upon his person to identify him as a Mallister or someone who served the Mallisters.
That was smart. That alone I could admit.
Hey, if you could plausibly deny yourself in a situation, then why not? If it worked, it worked. If not, well, what evidence pointed you exactly to the action that you are being accused off?
In that regard, I understood Lord Mallister very well, despite the fact that his hand may have been forced by his heir doing his own thing out of a not-so misplaced sense of honour.
In the field ahead of us, three armies clashed.
Two of the armies had been set on the field to fight against each other. Not long after they had joined battle, Harren had arrived, sailing up from the Red Fork. His men had quickly brought their longboats up from the waters of the river, formed ranks, then quickly, Harren led them into the fight, taking the two armies of the Brackens and Blackwoods unawares.
Not long afterwards I suspect, the Blackwoods and Brackens had stopped from fighting amongst themselves to trying to stave away the fury of their Hoare overlords.
Frankly, if it was me, I would have waited a little more for the two armies to bleed each other before jumping into the fray and finishing them all off. You know, to kill two birds with one stone... or maybe I'm using the idiom wrong.
Well, it didn't matter.
What matter now was that I was just about ready to give a good thrashing.
From our vantage point, it was easy enough to tell that the riverlords were struggling to hold back the ironborn horde and stragglers from their armies were beginning to peel off and try to make a run for it.
It was time for us to enter the fray.
"Brothe-."
I cut Axel off by snapping my reins and urging my horse forward. Shadowfax took to the command easily and began to ride towards the battlefield at a gentle canter. I didn't need to look behind me to see that Axel, Lyam and the rest of my mounted force was already following behind.
My brother and cousin were quick enough to catch up, both of them just a little way behind me as I figured I was now the point of a wedge formation. They all knew the plan for it was simple. We were going to smash into the ironborn lines and hack and kill anything that remotely resembled an ironborn.
That would be easy enough to tell. The vast majority of them wore black in a sign of allegiance to their overlord, Harren.
This was no battle, this was a slaughter!
Halleck Hoare let out a roar of a laugh as he planted his black iron axe into the soft neck of some greenlander fool, the look of pure shock and horror burning into his mind. By now, he had already lost count of how many of these greenlanders he had killed.
"Do any of you know how to fight!?" He roared as loud as his voice could allow.
The greenlanders seemed to move back away from him and he shook his head at the sight of it all. None dared to even attack him as he rested his axe onto the nape of his neck and shoulder. Swinging it around as much as he had been doing had been enough to tire him.
None of these even gave him anything close to resembling a challenge.
Out of all his father's sons, he was the mightiest warrior of them all. Sure, he might not come to rule the vast lands of their house, but he would be more than satisfied to continue living his life as it is, taking what he needed or paying the iron price for the things that he wanted.
From the corner of his eye, he saw someone cut down Callum the Boy Lover. He turned his head and saw his killer, one of those fancy women in armour that greenlanders called knights. Halleck had killed many knights.
He didn't think much of them.
At the end of the day, they all ended up squealing and begging for their lives, offering riches or some other nonsense. He just killed them and took what they had for himself. Paying the iron price.
Now that he thought about it, which ones of his salt wife shall have the honour of pleasuring him after this battle? He would be mighty lusty after a good days killing.
He moved away from the swipe of a sword that had been aimed at his neck.
It was the knight that had killed Callum the Boy Lover. The knight pointed his sword at him in challenge. "You wish for a worthy challenger ironman? You have found yourself one."
"Then I hope you don't disappoint then, greenlander!"
He launched himself at the knight and already, he had the man on the backfoot, his sword doing nothing more than saving his life at the last moment, trying to parry and block the bite of his axe. All the while, Halleck couldn't help but laugh.
"What's wrong!?" He asked as a might swing of his axe sent the ironwood shield the knight wore in his offhand flying. "I thought you were a worthy challenge! Bah! I hope your wife and daughters put up more a challenge than this when I take them!"
"You shall not have them!" The knight bellowed with renewed vigour as he began to put up something resembling a fight, but it was too late.
Halleck had grown bored and thus, with a great yell, he knocked the knight of his feet and then planted his axe into the space between his helmet and plate. Blood sprayed as his axe had nicked into an artery. He had forgotten all about the knight, drowning in his own blood when he had already killed several more greenlanders.
Then the horn blew.
It was a great and terrible thing that seemed to bring a stop to the fighting in the field as men looked around trying to find the source of the horn.
The horn blew again as the ground began to tremble.
Halleck immediately realised what was going on. A charge of cavalry.
He tried to look around, but all he could see where bodies of men just as confused as he was.
"We are under-attack!" Someone yelled.
No shit you fucking whoreson. He couldn't help but think. Who could be so stupid to even try to attack them? Perhaps amongst them, they could perhaps be a worthy warrior to face him after all!
With a wide grin on his face, he ran towards the sound of the horns, in search for a worthy opponent.
Halleck knew he was going in the right direction, even as he dived deeper into his own ranks for they began to turn around in chaos as the sounds of battle started coming from their rear. Many of his fellow ironborn seemed to have the same idea as him as they all began to face the new enemy.
It was until then that he realised something as he neared the back of their lines. If they were all rushing to fight their new enemies in the rear, who was facing the enemies they had been fighting in the front?
"Crap!" He tried to turn, but the surge of bodies carrying him towards the rear was too strong to break away from. "You stupid fuckers! The Brackens! The fucking Brackens!"
As he clambered over the bodies of his fellows, he then noticed what they were facing, a tide of steel that was tearing through their ranks against the flow of bodies. "Oh fuck!"
Before the tip of the lance ripped his head straight off his neck, Halleck had heard the knights cry out their war cry.
"For the Trident!"
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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TryingToBeKuw
I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 6, 2018
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#45
Book One - Blood In The River
"Well, I suppose we now all know why Harrenhal is so large."
I nearly groaned at Axel's quip as I couldn't even bring myself to even chuckle at it. The joke was so bad that I felt that my little brother should feel ashamed. I was half tempted to send him to sit in the corner. Any corner.
Benjicot Bracken seemed to share my own feelings on the matter. "Please my lord, that was horrible, even if it held a small truth to it."
By the love of everything that was good and holy, I was in the presence of children.
…
Okay, but I'd admit, I nearly cracked a smile at what Benjicot (singlehandedly one of the stupidest names I have ever heard the pleasure of hearing) had just said. Instead, I shook my head as we all stared down at the naked and bound Harren, no doubt thinking nothing but painful deaths at us.
He would be speaking of them as well, but unfortunately for him and fortunately for us, I had stuffed one of the socks I had been wearing into his mouth.
Edmyn had never met Harren before, why would he? Meeting Harren would not mean anything good on his behalf. The only time he ever got to Harren was speaking through his ironborn intermediaries who would occasionally sail up the Red Fork and guest themselves in Riverrun without his invitation.
Nobody would do anything for harming the ironborn brought down the wrath of Harren and one might as well say goodbye to their house for doing such a thing. So, the Tullys had stomached it whenever the ironborn guested themselves, taking... certain liberties with many of the female servants.
A point of shame that I could feel from whatever remained of Edmyn. I suppose a point of shame for Axel as well.
Seeing Harren in person, naked as he was, destroyed whatever boogie-man image that Edmyn had built up of the Hoare king. He was old, his skin showing the lines and tear of age whilst the crown of his head glistened as his hair had long retreated to the back of his head. Whatever teeth he had left were a rotting mess of yellow and black.
Seeing those teeth, right then and there, I decided I would never allow such awful dental hygiene to hit me. I had some modicum of personal standards.
"Are we done making our great king feel small?" I asked, turning to look at the assembled highborn. "I think he sees enough of that every time he takes a piss." Okay, I had to throw my own crack in there, though I thought that it wasn't as good as the others.
Though it was definitely better than what Axel had offered.
I waved for the Tully guardsmen to take Harren away and be put under guard. I was not done with him yet. After they dragged Harren kicking and screaming away, I turned towards the Bracken lord. "How are you feeling, my lord?"
Benjicot Bracken stood tall for a moment before taking in a long breath of air through the nose. "Like a man who's lucky to be alive. If you had not fallen on the ironborn when you did... I'm afraid that I would have joined my lord father in the embrace of the Stranger."
"Once again, I'm sorry to hear about your lord father, my lord." I offered my condolences.
Axel did the same as well, though his words held some white lies to them. "Me as well. Our own late father spoke well of Lord Ethan."
Our father had spoken of Lord Ethan but what he mostly said was that he didn't think much of him nor could he understand why him and Lord Blackwood continued to do the things they did instead of burying the hatchet. It was genuinely amazing in truth.
I would have thought he had read up on his riverlands history and saw that the feud between the two houses was just about one of the most ridiculous things that have ever existed.
"Thank you."
The new Lord of Stone Hedge was a very strange creature to be seen. He was tall, over six foot that was for sure and he was built like an aurochs as well. He kept chestnut brown hair cut short but allowed a respectable beard to grow around his square jaw. Apart from that, his features were remarkably plain as a wall.
"What's your next plan of action then, Lord Tully?" Lord Bracken asked as we began to make our way through the field that here and there was scattered with bodies, most of them ironborn.
The battle had been quick and bloody the moment that my forces had attacked the ironborn rear, catching them all by surprise with the shock of the cavalry charge sending them into confusion. It wasn't long before they started breaking and my riders started cutting down any that tried to get away.
It was an easy thing to do really. The ironborn were on foot whilst they had been on horseback.
"We march on Harrenhal." I held myself up in a confident manner as I gave him my answer. "News will eventually spread of this battle and our capture of our glorious king. We'll use that momentum to march on Harrenhal and take the castle."
The Lord of Stone Hedge nodded, but he was cautious and wary. "A good plan to be true, my lord, but House Bracken lost a lot of men today. Even if I was to join whatever forces we have left with yours, it would not be enough to take Harrenhal. I have not seen this castle Harren has spent so much blood building, but it is said to be something gargantuan in scope and scale."
We had long left the field that was only decorated with a spattering of bodies into a field that was painted in them. Many of the men had been grinded into the ground into a fine paste of blood and flesh by the hoofs of horse and the feet of men trying to escape.
The stench was something awful that made my stomach lurch.
I tried not to think about it, but it was difficult with the sounds of the dead and dying.
"Look around you, my lord." Axel said as he brought the lord's attention to their surroundings. "We came here as fast as we can and horses are faster than men."
Understanding came over the lord. "You did not call your foot."
"No, we did not."
"It would still take time though to rouse your bannermen. Time that we might not have as ironborn might call for aid from the Iron Islands."
At that, I snorted. "I doubt the Hoares are loved in their ancestral home. All but the Hardhand were born in the riverlands. I'm sure for many of the ironborn, Harren and his father might as well be greenlanders. They won't come to their aid."
"Are you sure about?" Lord Bracken asked.
"Yes." I lied with all the confidence that I can muster. I couldn't be sure, but I remember something about a Vickon Greyjoy withholding aid from the Iron Islands when Harren called for it during the conquest. I hope this Vickon guy does the same now. "And anyway, we sort of have to. Like I said, word of this will spread. The ironborn will not like the fact that we captured their king and killed many of their own. They will retaliate if we do not kick them out of our lands completely."
And anyway, considering that the ironborn had other land holdings elsewhere that was not the riverlands, I was rather positive that they didn't the manpower to spare. The Hoares boasted quite a considerable empire that just did involve the riverlands.
The new Lord Bracken was quiet for a moment before releasing a long-winded sigh. "Very well, I shall march with you, my lord. It's as you say, we do not have much of a choice."
With him coming along, that only left Lord Blackwood and I suspected that he was going to be a bit more difficult to deal with. He had spurned my initial offer to meet though not out of any dislike for me, but as I learned later on, to care for his son and heir that had been injured in the fighting.
I had only captured a glimpse of him and the hard look that had been worn on his face did not give me the sort of impression of someone that loved his child as much as he showed. It was somewhat surprising.
After finding a Blackwood serjeant and enquiring to the location of his lord, we were directed towards where the Blackwood rear lines would have been originally set up before their battle with the Brackens. Their baggage train had been laid at the side to make room for carts that had the wounded on their back, many pleading for some kind of help or begging for the barbers and surgeons available, many of them I'm sure not properly trained, not to cut off anything.
"Stop!" I saw one knight plead as he was being held down by his fellows. "My leg's fine! You don't have to take it!"
His leg was not fine.
His leg was not fine.
The barber had yet to even take his saw to it and even I could see that the leg was lost it being a bloody thing that was only being kept in place by nothing more than muscle and tendons.
"Hold him down!" The barber ordered the others. "Firmly! If I do this wrong, he might just die!"
"Then let me die! As a man, not a cripple!" He wailed, trying to thrash and free himself to no success.
I looked away with all the dignity that I could summon before the cutting started. My stomach was already lurching and I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of so many bodies.
Axel on the other hand seemed to be taking in this sight better than I was, his expression blank. But then again, unlike me, he was just staring straight forward and not looking around out of some queer interest.
"Is this your first time seeing the aftermath of a battle?"
The question caught me by surprise as I glanced at the Lord of Stone Hedge. I could lie, but that would serve me no purpose. "Aye. How did you know?"
"Your face says it all, even if you try to hide it." He sniffed his nose some. "It's a distasteful thing and despite seeing the aftermath more times than I'd like, I have yet to get used to the sounds, the screams and the begging..."
"Does it get easier?" Axel asked quietly, showing his youth.
I had completely forgot that he was only five-and-ten. Not even a man grown yet.
Gods be good, he wasn't even a knight yet. Even if I was still wrestling with the notion of accepting him as my brother, I was proving myself to already be a bad one. I had just dragged my baby brother into a battle that he could have very well have lost.
A rueful look was on the Bracken lord's face. "I'll tell you when it happens, my lord."
We walked in silence after that, once more enquiring to the location of Lord Blackwood from some nearby Blackwood men. Eventually we were led to the right cart where he stood over some men tending to his son that was laid upon the back of a baggage cart.
Moving next to the lord, I noticed his son had more colour to him, even as he lay unconscious and somewhat feverous. Apart from sharing the same dark hair, they did not look alike. I figured that the son had inherited more from his mother than father.
"What do you want?" Lord Blackwood bit out, his eyes never leaving his son as the healer tended to his leg. "Here to ask for my aid?"
Wow, went straight to the point.
"How is your son, Lord Blackwood?" Axel asked diplomatically. Apparently, he was more of the mind that asking for favours at this point in time wasn't the best course of action.
That was probably a good idea, especially at how tense the lord held himself.
The Lord of Raventree Hall was quiet for a moment before he decided to answer, his eyes drifting towards the healer who gave a single lone nod when he felt the eyes of his lord on him. "He'll live." He finally answered. His eyes drifted to the bloody wrappings around his leg, eyes narrowing slightly. "Though I doubt he will be in any battle ever again."
"I'm glad to hear that." I said before catching myself quickly and correcting myself just as fast. "To hear that he shall be fine. The battle was a bloody mess and many have lost loved ones today."
Lord Blackwood slowly craned his neck to face me with a sideways look. "Many would not have lost loved ones today if you had joined the battle earlier."
Axel held an admirable poker face. "We rode here as fast as possible. My lord, you are lucky that we were able to arrive in the time that we did." The balls on this kid, considering he had been the one to pester me about joining the attack as quickly as possible.
Lord Blackwood bristled at my little brother's words. "You expect me to believe that tripe? I'm not so gullible as that prancy, little pony that walks with you." He finished, stabbing a thin, pale finger in the direction of Lord Bracken.
For his part at the insult, the lord only reacted with the slight tightening of his face and the clenching of a fist.
He turned back to his son that slept in the cart. "My boy would not be knocking on the stranger's door..."
"I lost my lord father in this battle as well, Lord Blackwood." Said Benjicot Bracken with a certain heat to the tone of his words. "You are lucky you have not lost your son. If it was not for the brothers Tully, I suspect none of us would even be here as of now."
Yes, yes.
Tell him how it is.
The fact that he was still alive was very much because of us, even if I had held back my forces to bleed those of the Brackens and Blackwoods. The less rivals that we had, the better that we would not get dragged into something stupid.
Especially when Aegon turns up and does his Aegon the Conqueror business upon his flying murder beasts.
Lord Blackwood scoffed. "You should read up on the history of House Tully boy. The lot of them are nothing more than opportunistic little shits. The moment the last of the Mudds fell, they were the first to bend their knee to Armistead Vance for some piece of land."
Well... I couldn't deny that.
That sounded just about right about the history of the Tullys.
Lord Bracken scoffed at Lord Blackwoods words and I began to wonder whether he was just defending me because Lord Blackwood was attacking me. Would he do the same if it was from a lord from another house that the Brackens did not have such an animosity with? I would rather not think about it really.
"Do you realise how foolish that sounds? You make it sound as if Lord Tully had future knowledge of what Harren would do." Oh mate, you have no idea. "The last I checked, Lord Tully is no prophet."
The Lord of Raventree Hall narrowed his eyes at the new lord of his house's most ancient enemy before waving him away with a curt dismissal wave of the hand. "Bah, away with you, Bracken. I have no time for this. My son needs tending too. Tully, what do you want?"
"Your men."
"I figured as much. I suppose you mean to march on Harrenhal then?" I nodded and Lord Blackwood continued speaking though I have no idea how he saw me considering he never once looked away from his son. "I'll give you command over whatever men I have left. I suppose it's the least I could do for your... assistance in this battle."
I gave him a respectful incline of the head. "Thank you, my lord. Your aid in this matter will not be forgotten."
I might come back to regret those exact words at some point in time, but it just felt sort of natural to say those very words at the same time. And he was doing me a massive favour as well, lending me his men to fight my little war.
Lord Blackwood called for one his knights, a Ser Ethan Blackwood who was from a cadet branch of the main Blackwood line. "He'll act in my stead." Lord Blackwood said as he gave the knight his orders. "He's good and true."
I accepted his aid and told him to gather the man. The knight was quick to follow my orders with not a complaint from him. I think I liked him already.
So, me, Axel and Benjicot then went off to do our own tasks. Benjicot went to see to his wounded, before rallying the man that he had left before joining his strength with mine. Me and Axel went to search for Lyam and we found him just as we thought we would find him.
"Have the message been sent?" I asked as we neared our cousin.
The heir to Seagard grinned some as he motioned towards an empty cage were a raven had been roosting moments ago. "Yes. She's your fastest bird yes? Then we'll probably meet Ser Patrek and your levies at Harrenhal."
"What about the riders?" I pressed.
Lyam laughed. "Don't worry coz, the news is spreading of our victory. I have sent riders to every nearby village, holdfast, keep, castle with the same message. It will spread. The riverlords will react accordingly."
"I hope so," I allowed the first of my uncertainty to colour my words. "the last thing that I want to deal with is turning up at Harrenhal with only some couple thousand men. That would be quite embarrassing."
"I don't think we would have to worry too much about it." Axel said, trying to reassure me with a soft smile. "Even if the riverlords don't rise, the thousands of thralls that the ironborn have taken will most certainly do. It would not be the first time that such a thing has happened to a foreign invader."
I grimaced at the thought of a mob of pitchforks and torches. "Hopefully, they don't turn their hands on us. We did fail many of these people as their lords by not protecting them."
At that, both my cousin and brother winced in shame.
"No point in thinking about these things. Que sera sera."
The others looked at me in confusion at my sudden use of French. "I can't put a name on that tongue. What is it?" Axel asked.
I waved him off with a laugh. "Nothing, just some words I made up out of the blue. Come on, let's see to the men. We'll need to be on the march soon."
I allowed the men and the horses to rest for the rest of the day. Though Axel pressed for us to move quickly, there was no point in us wearing out the men and the horses. So, we rested and when first light broke up from the east, I immediately gave the order to move out.
I had tried to sleep that night, but sleep didn't come easily to me. Dreams of red assaulted me that made it difficult to enjoy the rest that sleep brought. I woke up even more tired than the last time I tried to sleep, so I didn't.
I stayed awake for the rest of that night.
Seeing the large column of marching men and horse, I would wager we numbered some near three thousand men. Most of the men being levies, men-at-arms and knights that had belonged to the Brackens and Blackwoods now joined with the couple hundred of knights that I had brought with me.
The Brackens and Blackwoods were broken.
With that little piece of information, House Tully was now the strongest of the riverlords left. We had more vassals, more land and more people in our lands than anybody else now.
It was a strangely sobering thought.
I was doing the riverlords a favour really. Rallying underneath the Tully banner would be good for them because I get the feeling that some of them, when Aegon came and did his conquering business, would most likely go the route of everybody else and get burned to a crisp, the riverlands with them.
I'd rather avoid pointless sacrifice if it could be avoided and none more pointless sacrifice was than some prideful idiots letting their wits leave them.
Speaking of Aegon, I know that he landed in what would be King's Landing the day Harrenhal was finished, but I just put a stop to that. So, what happens now?
How far away was Harrenhal to being finished? I would need to look into that so I can at the very least have a time frame to work with.
Hopefully, it wouldn't be that long because I doubt I would be able to deal with all this feudal nonsense without going insane and then some.
A couple days letter during our journey south towards Harrenhal, we came across Lord Symon Harroway and his host of a hundred horse and nine hundred foot. One thousand men in total, boosting our numbers up to just some five thousand, considering that on our way, we had picked up smallfolk with the closest thing they could get to a weapon.
Some of them had even showed him the heads of people they claimed to be ironborn they had killed.
Man, news spread faster than horses apparently. Things had escalated faster than I had thought they would.
The Lord of Harroway's Town was not the only lord we came across on our journey south. We had come across the Lords Blanetree, Bigglestone, Chambers and Lychster among others. All of them bringing men and a burning resolution to put as many of the ironborn to the sword as possible.
They did not just bring men as well, they also brought news. They told me all across the riverlands, lords and smallfolk alike were rising up against the ironborn, killing any ironborn they could get their hands on.
I was also told that houses closer to Harrenhal had already besieged the great castle, trapping Harren's main force inside the castle.
A castle that I could now see dominating the landscape in the distance. Bloody hell, that thing was massive. I was genuinely curious and astounded as to how these people could build something that was essentially a skyscraper with the technology that they had.
"By the seven," Axel wheezed out as his eyes bugged out as we rode down a well-trodden dirt track that counted as a road by some people's standards. "Is that what we have been paying taxes to build?"
Lord Bracken gulped rather audibly. "How are we supposed to take that? The walls alone must be truly massive..."
"Do we even have the man to surround such a castle?" Ser Ethan asked, not knowing whether to be astounded or shocked. I couldn't blame him, I was working between the two emotions myself.
"Perhaps just the gates?" Lyam offered as a suggestion with a frown, his eyes unable to move away from the great castle. "Keep them henned inside?"
Lord Harroway shook his head as we continued to make our way towards the monstrosity. "It's said that the castle has a ladder large enough to last for years. We can't siege that thing for as long as that, especially when news travels fast..."
The other lords in attendants were in agreement with him with the mutterings of lions, greenhands, falcons and stags. To my surprise, there was no mention of wolves among the mutterings. Did the north keep to a policy of isolation and keep themselves out of the affairs of the south?
It sounded just about right from my recollection of the books.
I tried to sound confident as I urged Shadowfax forward. "We'll think of something my lords. One way or another, that castle will fall."
Harrenhal was most certainly under a siege. The strangest siege I had ever seen in my life considering I have never seen many sieges at all in my life so that was saying a lot. It's just what this siege was, was not the sort of thing that I was expecting.
Most of the lords had camped their forces in what had been deemed as the main gate, whilst they had left strong enough forces to cover the other gates around the castle. If the ironborn tried to make a break for it, I realised they would probably try to go for the God's Eye Lake and sail away.
It was nice to know that I was not the only to think of such an idea as the boats that were at moor on the lake had been dismantled for parts. Parts for siege equipment that was not really going to do anything to those walls.
I now regretted making that boast some days before.
When we were arrived, we were directed towards where the lords were gathering. Making our way towards the command tent, I noticed that many of the people in the siege lines were children and women who looked half-staffed.
"The workers." Lyam realised, his eyes travelling amongst gaunt faces and bony bodies. "The smallfolk that Harren enslaved to build this monument to himself."
That means there had to be thousands of them.
The fact that they weren't trying to rip us apart into tiny little pieces was more than good enough for me. I subscribed that to the fact that most of them looked like they would be knocked over with the lightest of winds.
"There they are!" A large, stout man shouted as he rose from his sit, a large smile on his face. "The men of the hour!" A quick look around told me what I already knew. I had no idea who these people were. "Come on you lot! What's wrong with you? Stand up and give a clap to the daring lads that struck at Harren and brought him low!" He urged the others to their feet, bringing two meaty hands together in large, solid claps that reverberated throughout the tent.
Apparently, whatever it was that he was doing was infectious as the others slowly started clapping and rising to their feet, heads acknowledging us.
Lyam and Axel couldn't help but beam in the adulations and spotlight that had been shown on them.
"Thank you, my lord, though I fear I do not know of your name." I gave him an apologetic smile. "Harren's reign made it quite difficult for... social gatherings." Harren was of the mind that if the lords were getting together for any particular reason, then they must truly be about ready to band together and overthrow him.
I assumed that was his logic. It sort of sounded about right.
"No worries lad!" The lord bellowed with an easy wave of the hand. "Lord Jason Goodbrook of Castleford at your service!"
There was no table to be sat around, so we all sat in a circle formed around all of us. I was half tempted to say that all of the highborn of the riverlands had come here, but I thought better of it. We would have needed more seats than the ones available to suit every lord and lady in the realm in this little impromptu meeting of the riverlands greatest.
Darry, Mooton, Goodbrook, Mallister, Harroway, Brackens, Blackwoods.
Nearly all the important lords were here and their word carried weight more so than others.
"Before we take the castle, I have to ask," I looked around the circle of assembled nobility. "So, what happens after?"
"Pardon?" A lordling asked, confused.
I crossed my arms. "What happens after? After we beat the ironborn out of the riverlands. What do we do after? Do we return to the days of the petty kingdoms of the riverlands, wait for the next kingdom to turn us into another colonial possession," I noticed that various expressions grimaced and soured at the thought of becoming lands to another kingdom once more. So becoming another colonial possession was definitely not in the mind of many. So what about this option? "or do we do something else?"
"Do you propose we declare the Kingdom of the Rivers and Hills once more?" Lord Jon Mooton asked, an older grizzled man of more than double my age.
That would be good. Less likely for us (House Tully) to get buggered when Aegon comes rolling up. "Sure, any one of you wants to become the new royal house?"
My question took the lords by surprise, even more so my brother and Lyam. I suspect they had figured I would make a play for the throne myself. I wasn't particularly interested in a crown or a throne, but I had sort of overplayed my card with the Brackens and Blackwoods.
For such a kingdom to be born, House Tully would need to be the royal house.
We were the strongest in the land now, any ruler would seat uneasy on his throne with a vassal that was more powerful than himself. That could only lead to bad blood down the road and trying to wipe us out.
I wasn't going to have that.
Benjicot Bracken spoke slowly, almost in disbelief. "You don't want a crown for yourself?"
"When I set off to face Harren, I did not do it in search of a crown. I set of in pursuit to put down a tyrant who had caused more than his fair share of evil and horrors to the lands of our people and ancestors. If the revival of an independent kingdom is what my lords and ladies want, then let it be so, though the title is a poisoned chalice."
The loud Lord Goodbrook breathed heavily. "Aye, no royal house of our lands has ever lasted long."
"If only Qhored had not done what he had done, the Justmans would still be ruling us with honour and justice," Lord Bennar Darry shook his head. "What a shame..."
Lord Harroway stamped his foot loudly to draw attention to him. "But we cannot remain undivided with no leader unless we wish to find our lands once more split by foreign kings. And when they come, war comes with them in which good rivermen die."
Benjicot Bracken stood up to attract the attention of the others to him. He cleared his throat to clear his nerves by the look of it. "My lords, even I can see that if we remove Harren and go our separate ways afterwards, the lions, falcons, greenhands, stags and perhaps even the wolves would flood our lands, trying to split it amongst themselves, perhaps even splitting family from family. This does not have to be so if we have a leader to rally around. Someone that we could call our king. A riverlander just like me, just like you."
It was interesting where this was going. So, I just listened.
"I suspect the point of this entire speech you are trying to say," Jon Mooton cut in firmly, eyes locking onto me. "Is that we should declare young Edmyn here, king? Your proposal does have some merit."
"Come now, Jon," Jason Goodbrook said loudly. He was a very loud man. "If it wasn't for him, none of this would even be possible! Just like how Benedict I Justman united the realm behind him, so has young Edmyn united the realm and cast out a tyrant at the same time."
I decided to cut in there. "The tyrant is tied up. I might have cast him down, but his men are still very much a threat."
Lord Mooton waved away my concerns. "I would not worry about it too much. The ironborn are outnumbered."
"But they are inside a castle." Axel pointed out. "A large one that no siege weapon, tower or ladder will be able to breach."
There was a certain glint to the lord of Mooton's eye as he levelled a look on the little brother. "They also happen to have locked them inside that castle with thousands that happen to hate them. Thousands more than them."
Lyam jerked forward in interest. "A rebellion?"
"Perhaps." The lord answered with a shrug. "Or enough of a sword in the back to force Harwyn to try a desperate gamble to escape the siege. But that is for another time, instead, we still have matters of our own to solve. About who shall lead us." He said all that whilst looking at me directly.
Jon Mooton already had me pegged down as the most reasonable candidate for kingship in the riverlands, and judging by how some of the highborn were already appraising me and whispering amongst themselves, they had more than likely come to a decision.
The flow was heading in a direction that I had predicted, though I was still quite wishy-washy about my position on it. On one hand, House Tully becomes the overlords of the riverlands, we get to take the region in the direction that I want.
When Aegon turns up, he would have an army waiting for him and nobody gets burned to death and everybody goes home happy with some added prestige, possible new titles and lands.
Problem is though, the position of king of this land was cursed more so than Harrenhal ever was.
Did I want House Tully to become house number five to fall to that particular curse?
But then again, I did not think about this entirely.
Removing Harren was a great idea and something I was completely unrepentant about that. I could rest easy knowing that I had nothing to fear from a tyrant that could decide to make an example out of me for no good reason.
On the other hand, I was now too powerful to be just an ordinary vassal to a king unless I want to see Tully lands partitioned to weaken us, something that I doubt Axel would take lying down. Perhaps even me, the Edmyn part of me anyway.
"There would be changes." I said when I came to a decision eventually.
"Every king brings his own kind of changes." Lord Darry said as he nodded. "Some good, some bad. Time will only tell what yours are."
"A standing army like those of the Free Cities."
The tent exploded in raised voices, something I had much expected in truth really. The highborn shouted and argued amongst themselves, pointing and gesticulating at me that I was not even aware of what they were trying to say or what even their arguments against this was.
I just sat back and waited for them to calm down.
Eventually, they did.
Lord Mooton was the one that asked the all-important question. "As you can see Lord Tully, the notion of a standing army is not well received. Would you care to explain your reasoning to us? Perhaps we may be swayed."
I began to explain my point. I pointed out to them that we were the most central region in all of Westeros and how that our lands have seen more war than any other region. That it was imperative for us to have a force of men ready and willing to meet whatever threat is thrown at us in the field and turn them back.
Lord Goodbrook stroked at his chin. "And how shall we pay for this army?" He asked.
"Or make sure that you do not turn it on your potential bannermen?" Ser Ethan asked to my surprise as he had been quiet for most of the entire assembly.
I suspect that he was going to report all of this back to Lord Blackwood the first chance that he got.
"For starters, I would ask for a payment of scutage rather than that of a promise of men when it comes to military service. And for your worries of me turning into a tyrant, my lords you will still be able to raise and call upon your levies as you wish if it ever comes to the point that I or any future descendants have over stepped themselves." I leaned back and crossed my arms. "That is my offer, my lords."
"We shall have to think about this..." Said the lord of Maidenpool. "Such a thing has never been seen before in the seven kingdoms and what you ask steps on many rights and privileges of the highborn."
I really doubted that but I put on an air of understanding as I went along with it. "I know," I admitted. "but that is the only way I can see our kingdom lasting longer than a couple of years before some foreign invader or invaders take our lands." I say that knowing full well that Aegon was going to be a thing. "If that's not too your liking, I suppose we can always discuss amongst ourselves about which of the other kingdoms we should swear fealty to, though I fear this may not to be the liking of other kings as their rivals swell in power." I said, directing the flow of thoughts into a future were the other kingdoms would try to peg down the rival that had found itself increasing in size drastically with the addition of the riverlands.
Some expressions were neutral at my words, but most had pursed in thought with furrowed eyebrows and various other expressions of distaste. I might be wishy-washy about the subject, but this was going in the direction I had hoped it would be going in.
With that done, I decided to leave. "Well, I hope we come to a decision my lords before others make the decision for us." I said, rising up, Axel and then proceeded to leave the assembled highborns to discuss amongst themselves.
We walked away from the tent, walking into the siege camp, passing a line of men as they waited to pleasure themselves upon a whore. We passed quite a load of lines much like that one.
"Do you think they will accept?" Axel asked after a moment of silence we walked in the shadow of Harrenhal.
I shrugged my shoulders, shoving my hands into the pockets I had sewn into my breeches. "Who knows? It's the only way I can see that the security of a future Kingdom of the Trident is secured."
"And the Hills."
I blinked. "What are you talking about brother?"
"Kingdom of the Trident and Hills, brother." the red-head teen began to explain. "that would be the name of the kingdom. If you only take the title King of the Trident, then only the lands water by the Trident are yours. If you wish to take the entirety of Harren's realm, it shall have to be the Kingdom of the Trident and Hills or Rivers and Hills like that of old."
Oh god.
I just realised that the lands that would become the northern crownlands, north of the Blackwater Rush would be in the domain of any kingdom that I become king of.
I had completely forgot about that.
"Goddammit."
Last edited: Mar 7, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 7, 2018
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#85
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Harrenhal
Ser Patrek arrived late with the Riverrun levy forces.
Later than I had figured it would take, having it been by nearly two weeks. This was strange considering the man was mostly punctual about damn near everything. Axel had enough tales about the grizzled old man punishing him for being late to arms practice.
So thankfully, when he did arrive, he had quite the plausible excuse to go along with it.
"Apologies for doing so without your command," the knight said as he wiped some sweat away from his brow as the levies were marched into the siege camps around Harrenhal. "but I took our forces to strike at Fairmarket. I couldn't rest easy knowing that there was an ironborn so close resting easy."
I had completely forgot about Fairmarket.
It was amazing how I could have forgot about the town where two of the Hoare kings had been ruling their vast empire from. Despite Harren having moved his centre from Fairmarket to Harrenhal when it became liveable in, there was still some sound ironborn force in that old town.
"I hope you didn't take too many losses." I said, eyes wandering to the levies that were marching past, many of them spotting signs of battle, but having the air of men that had just seen victory by the confident swagger in their steps.
"Not too much," the knight grunted. "when our forces arrived, the smallfolk rose up and the ironborn either retreated to Halleck's Tower or to their longboats. I don't think we'll be seeing any of them soon."
I nodded as I absorbed the knowledge. The smallfolk rising up was just about in line with what I had learned about the rivermen whenever it came to peoples they did not like. That was something to be taken advantage of if I played it right.
On the military front, by the way the ser had spoken, the ironborn still held the tower, but he was confident that it would soon fall and since he wasn't there, that meant that someone was there who would be able to oversee the siege and make sure that it falls.
The ironborn that had retreated to their longboats though were a worry. They could strike at anywhere the Trident flowed.
Despite hating the bastards, I couldn't help but give them credit, they certainly knew how to use the geography of the land to their advantage. Something I was definitely going to learn from them.
"Think they will try to make a break for it to open seas then back to the Iron Islands?"
The knight was in thought for a moment. "Perhaps." He admitted with a nod. "they would be foolish to stay here. Ironborn are being butchered everywhere in the lands as the news spreads. The whores they frequented are now lying with knives to stab them whilst they partook in their pleasure. Butchers now cleave ironborn meat instead of that of cows. It would be madness to stay."
Perhaps there was some exaggeration in there, but I took his word for it.
"How goes the siege?" He asked, turning his attention to the camp and from there, to the might castle that covered us in its shadow.
"Nothing really." A sigh of boredom escaped from my lips. "All we have been doing is nothing more than waiting in truth."
Ser Patrek of Fairmarket nodded. "Sounds about right."
"Good ser!" A young, lively voice called out and the ser's expression darkened for a moment. "I was wondering where you had disappeared of to! We never finished our discussion!" The young man finished with a laugh.
Turning my neck, I followed the voice to its owner, a young man of some years older than me with dark auburn hair and blue eyes. I recognised the three sprogs of mistletoe that was splattered onto the tabard he wore above his plate as that of the Charltons.
"A friend of yours?" I asked quietly enough to the ser. I didn't know the ser to be so sociable.
The ser's reply was something between a shake of the head and that of a sudden jerk that could be only caused by a spasm of some kind. "No. An annoyance more like." He replied in the same volume as I had. He smiled courteously at the lordling as he neared. "Lord Carlton, I see you caught up."
Carlton Charlton? That was more than a strange enough name to demand an eyebrow be raised.
The lordling laughed airily. He patted the long neck of his white horse lovingly. "It wasn't mighty difficult. Arabella here is quite the dutiful steed." He turned away from the ser to face me, a smile on his face that did not quite reach his eyes. "Judging by your looks, you must be the famous Lord Tully?"
"You have heard of me then?"
The lordling laughed. "The name is spoken loudly by both the high and small alike as tales of your daring attack and rebellion spreads."
I wouldn't call it daring, more likely opportunistic than anything else, but who was I to deny the people like that?
Smiling at him, making sure that my smile actually reached my eyes. Something that was easy considering smiles came easy to me from a previous life. "Well, I hope. Still though, your presence here is much appreciated Lord Carlton. It truly shows the unity of the realm if you were willing to travel so far."
Charlton lands were far.
Edmyn's memories couldn't exactly place them, but they definitely knew that the lands were located to the north of the realm, somewhere between the Blue and Green fork. That was some determination to come marching down here.
In other words, I suspected there was more to this than a show of solidarity and faith in our mutual dislike of varying degrees of the ironborn.
"You couldn't get me to move fast enough!" The lordling laughed atop his horse.
"Then we would gladly have you here, my lord!" I motioned towards the siege lines. "Your brightness will definitely make this siege less dreadfully dull."
"I hear that's what most sieges are." He quipped in return before he urged his horse forward. "We shall have to speak some more, my lord. I have found you to be the most agreeable of sort with me."
"And I, with you!" I said in parting as he rode past, joining with men in the colours of his house.
It was more than likely that Lord Carlton was going to join the other lords in discussing and arguing the fors and against of me being made king. No point in having another friendly face in there that thought I would be their friend.
Though to be safe, apart from House Mallister, there was very little other notable northern riverlords in assembly, but I'd give them the benefit of the doubt of the fact that travel would be extensive and they would rather do something else.
Still, best have a raven sent to Lord Mallister and ask to see what the feeling is like up north.
"Has a plan of attack been formed yet?" Ser Patrek asked as we walked around the camp, making sure that everything was up to snuff. "I don't think we have anything that can take those walls or batter them down."
"To be honest, the plan of attack seems to be just wait for them to run out of food."
The knight made a sound of disapproval. "If half the things are true about what Harren built into this monstrosity, then we shall be here for years."
"Well, we've also been asking the freed workers for any places of weaknesses or secret tunnels or something that we can use to put an end to this quickly."
"Any luck, my lord?"
I sighed in defeat. "None at all. Harren was sure of the safety of his castle that he never even bothered to build secret tunnels or anything like that. I don't blame him really, Riverrun itself has nothing of the sort..." Something that I really should rectify as soon as possible.
You never know when you want to get out of the castle without being seen that does not involve getting wet. I know what Bryden did to escape and the siege and I'm nowhere near as confident as my swimming ability to that of the old bastard.
With the exploits of some of the people that existed in Planetos, I was of the mind some people just had super genes or powers that allowed them to do things that were most definitely not doable in reality. Then again, a decent enough athlete could pull of Brynden's feat.
I did not like the waiting game that sieges entailed, especially in the precarious position that the riverlands were in.
News by now had more than undoubtedly spread faster than I had anticipated to the four corners of the riverlands, and it wouldn't be stupid of me to think that the news had already or was beginning to spread further than the borders that were drawn on the maps.
The longer we sat around doing nothing and singing Kum-Ba-Ya around the fires, the more it was likely the other kingdoms that sat around us would give us a little looksie and make for a land grab of their own.
And considering the complete and utter mess that was geopolitics in Westeros pre-conquest, hell, arguably post-conquest as well, the riverlands would soon find themselves embroiled in war that would effectively put the safety of me at risk.
I couldn't be having that.
Especially as I had learned that the castle was, wait for it, a decade away from completion according to the workers.
That's right.
I was stuck here for a decade before Aegon decides to come here and do his wannabe Norman the Conqueror shtick. Hm... maybe I could somehow make him invade earlier? Actually, was he even the Lord of Dragonstone right now? For all I know, his father could still be alive or Aegon himself might not have developed any ambition for the conquest of Westeros yet.
Any action on my part could very well result in him going down a different direction that I would not want.
I guess I should let him develop as he did and let the ambition for Westeros come naturally.
It was then that my attention was attracted to one of the stupidly large castle gates of Harrenhal. They seemed to be opening.
"To arms!" One of the serjeants look-outs yelled as they had seen what I was seeing. "To arms! The ironborn are sallying out!"
The part of the lines that we had been walking around and inspecting suddenly became alive with a chaos of activity as men scrambled to put on what armour they had with them. Knights were cursing and calling for their squires to come armour them up. The peasant levies were grabbing anything that looked remotely like a weapon from hoes, sharpened sticks, clubs and anything else that could kill a person.
I even saw one young man hold a fairly large stone in his hand.
"My lord, we should get you into armour." Ser Patrek said, having shifted himself to stand between me and the opening castle gates. "Right now, we are vulnerable."
I could see that much. "That's a good idea, I think." I was only in my casual wear with nothing more than a sword at my side. By now the gates had been flung open and it was then that I noticed something funny. "They don't look like ironborn." I had to squint just to make sure. "They definitely don't look like ironborn."
For starters, why would women and children be making a mad dash out of the castle? Thousands of them in fact.
It was then my mind wandered back to the words that Lord Mooton had said earlier some days before. About the thousands of workers that were still in the castle that could very well rise up in rebellion against their enslavers.
It seemed that he had the right of it from the mass exodus of human bodies that I was seeing.
"Nonetheless," Ser Patrek was now ushering me back. "I would feel better if you were in something protective, my lord."
To be honest, seeing them come closer and closer, I was more of the mind that I wouldn't really want to be in the way of this particular flood. It seemed to just have the right amount of chaos and desperation to trample and unsuspecting victim underneath its barely fed feet.
"On that, I think we can agree."
So, with Ser Patrek's urging, I removed myself from the flow of bodies.
It was chaos as first as thousands crashed into the still mustering line of men. Some of the soldiers thought they were coming under attack and had lashed out, killing the fleeing workers. This had only resulted in more panicking spreading across the workers.
The stampede then truly became one for the songs to speak as thousands were crushed and trampled underneath feet both large and small. Eventually, some form of control and order was forced upon the workers when some lords and knights charged into them, killing hundreds perhaps even thousands.
The sheer callous disregard for human life galled me. Even more so when some of the knights celebrated their little achievement as if it was some sort of great battle.
I had to actively stop myself from doing something incredibly stupid then and there. I had to remind myself that this was part and parcel for Westeros. That this was nothing new.
So, I stymied my anger, but I remembered the names.
Lord Carlton Charlton being amongst the names that I learned.
I wasn't going to do an Arya, but I was going to be a petty little bastard if situations ever arised for that sort of pettiness.
"So where are the ironborn?" I asked.
I was with a group of men, now officially armoured and kitted as we entered the grounds of the castle. It spoke volumes to the size of Harrenhal that to make any form of fast enough progress, we had to do so on horseback.
Once again, it had to be reiterated, Harrenhal was huge.
One of the escaped slaves or thralls as the ironborn liked to call theirs, one of the leaders by the sounds of it, by the name of Humfrey led us around the castle towards the main tower of the great castle, aptly named Harrenhold.
Harren did like the sound of his own name, didn't he?
"Don't know m'lord." Humfrey answered from atop the horse we had found for him. Though weak and malnourished, he had volunteered himself to be our guide. I aimed to make sure that he was well fed when he got the chance. "After yous lords came with your hosts and they barred the gates, many of us broke our chains with the tools we were givens. The fuckers, pardon me tongue m'lords, killed some, but we outnumbered th'm and forced th'm back and back to th'castle over ther'. Don't know if there was anybody there, so we tried hacking the door down but it was too thick you see."
"So, they are in that tower over there?"
"Who knows m'lord. We didn't check. All we cared for was escapin'."
"You did well good man." Said Axel. "We thank you for your words and the duty you are doing as of now."
"Thanks, m'lord, but as long as you gut those fuckers, pardon me tongue, I care for no reward."
Lord Carlton barked out a laugh. "Now that's a charity I'm more than willing to give willingly!" He said to laughter.
And here I was under the impression charity was done willingly and not forcefully. Maybe Westeros did things more differently than I had thought before.
We traversed through desolate yards that seemed to stretch for leagues on end more than one. Hell, I was now of the mind you could have a clash of armies in the tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands in here and still have room to spare.
This castle was ridiculous.
I had assumed that since i had been forced to live in this world, the world would at least try to make sense. The scales of some buildings would be toned down to make it more agreeable with various laws of physics available to the people on hand.
I was wrong. I was so very wrong.
The Harrenhold neared and something was off to put it lightly. "The gate is open." I said, pointing out the obvious.
Humfrey blinked in surprise. "Ah yes m'lord. I don't understand why though. Twas locked when we left."
"I have a queer feeling about this." Axel muttered as he readied himself for battle.
I was of the same mind as well as Humfrey was ushered back. No need for him to fall to a surprise attack here and now after everything he had gone through.
With our valiant guide safe, we moved forward, weapons drawn and eyes peeled for any sort of danger as we entered the gate house, wide enough for more than a dozen of us to ride abreast of each other.
"Gods," Lord Carlton let out, his head craning the roof of the gatehouse from one side to the other. "I knew it was large, but this is truly something."
"Something indeed." Axel said, his tone contrite. "Built by the blood of thousands and the deaths of many more."
If the riverlands do end up being united after this instead of falling into petty bickering between the lot of them, then a census will have to be made, just to see what the demographics are like, though I suspect many lands in the surrounding area are going to be quite low on people.
The gatehouse eventually led us into the main courtyard of the Harrenhold tower. It was there that I definitely knew something was up.
There was armour laid about, abandoned.
I got of my horse and went to investigate along with others. Ser Patrek led some men into the depths of the tower to see if there was anybody inside. I thought he was probably going to need more men than the ones he had taken with him.
That tower seemed just about ready to stretch out and touch the sky. It seemed like it was touching the sky. That's how big it was.
Axel kicked an empty helmet away, a frown on his face. "Why would they abandon their armour like this? What would be the point?" He asked, walking around and looking around. For some reason, he stopped when he looked at Humfrey.
"What is it?" I asked when I noticed the sudden look of dawning realisation on my brother's face. "What's wrong?"
"They abandoned their armour."
"We can see that, Lord Axel." The Charlton bastard noted as he stood around doing nothing of note or even helping. "Perhaps they wanted to save us the trouble and make it easier for us to cut them down." He finished with a pointless laugh.
"Or to perhaps mix themselves amongst the escaping workers." Axel said, dropping the bombshell.
We stopped at his words and we thought about what he was implying.
Whatever cheer Carlton was in disappeared as he shook his head. "We would have noticed. Have you seen them? Nothing more than skin and bones, well fed ironborn would have been easy to make out."
"Amongst the panic and thousands of bodies?" I asked rhetorically, shaking my head. "Unlikely." And by now, a couple of days later, they had more than likely sneaked away from the camps and disappeared into the land. I kicked away another helmet in fury, sending it flying. "Dammit!"
I sometimes forgot that occasionally, someone who actually uses their brain would turn up in the ranks of the ironborn.
Well, there went my hopes of capturing the rest of Hoare line that had taken shelter within the confines of the castle. Even despite my anger at the situation, I still was a good enough sport to applaud the plan that had been put into play here.
Now with Humfrey's tale, I couldn't help but wonder if the ironborn had been the one to free the workers from their chains for this very chance to escape their siege.
"There's nothing that we can do now then if they have escaped." The Charlton lordling said with a sombre tone, his cheer gone. "We could send out riders but it's been days and I don't think we would be even able to find them." He said, having followed the same line of reasoning as me to our chances of capturing the escaped highborn.
If they were even remotely smart, they wouldn't move around in large groups. That would attract attention.
I had expected something of an epic last stand by the ironborn instead of this nonsense. Then I realised this was now my reality and not everything was going to end up with the expectations that I would think off.
Reality had a habit of disappointing you like that, even if it was a reality that sucked as much balls as that of Planetos.
Word spread quickly about the ironborn ploy and in a rush of anger and indecision and probably some lost pride at the fact that we just got played by the ironborn, lords and knights alike rode out in search for the ironborn despite the very, very low chances of actually finding any. Thankfully the Charlton lordling had been amongst them, having been more than eager to chase after ghosts.
As of late, he had been trying really hard to be friendly with me, if only he knew that could have actually happened if it wasn't for the stunt he pulled with the smallfolk that had been running into what they thought freedom instead of death.
I didn't like the fact that the Hoares had been able to escape. These ironborn had this very bad habit of going about and coming back for more whenever you think they are finally down and out for the count only to come back and surprise you with their particular brand of utter bullshit.
What is dead may never die, only rise harder and stronger.
This was not going to be the last time we were going to see the ironborn. They would come back, and hopefully, when they do, we can turn them back into the sea and let them feast in the halls of their watery god.
The ironborn fleeing right underneath our nose might have given some lords some damaged pride at the fact, but some took this chance to start partying like there was no tomorrow. The sounds of merriment and drinking could be heard outside the tent, even though we were a rather fair distance away from the largest grouping of men.
Many a bastard was going to be conceived tonight if the stores of moon tea brought by the whores ran out. And I wasn't even thinking about some of the women workers that would do anything for something descent to bite, even though we were handing out food from Harrenhal's larders (with the order amongst my men that my name should be spread as the reason as to why they shouldn't worry about the ironborn anymore).
"Harren is your prisoner Lord Tully," said Lord Darry as he brought me back to reality, away from the depths of my mind. "What will you do with him? Execution, I hope."
Harroway's Town lord had a stern look across his face as he spoke next. "It's the only right thing to do. Harren has to face the justice for all the suffering and deaths that he has caused."
"I never meant for him to live anyway. His use has literally come to an end with the routing of the ironborn." The former king of the riverlands just so happened to be chilling rather nicely on a rampart, still naked as the day he was born apart from a piece of cloth to keep the cold away.
His treatment should have all but assailed my modern sensibilities, but just like when he faced his death in canon, it didn't bother me at all. The only thing I felt sorry for where the castle servants that had found themselves burning to death along with Harren when Aegon burned the castle down.
"Like a dog, I say!" Lord Goodbrook said to many cheers from the assembled highborn.
"I would agree with that, but despite how much of an animal Harren is, he's still a king and a suitable death should be given to him."
"You have been parading him around for everybody to see in all his nakedness." Ser Ethan pointed out, in dead pan.
I waved the point away. "That's just me not liking him." And sometimes, I need to let my inner bastard come out and play lest I pay for it later on and Harren had volunteered for that duty nicely. The fire we all sat around cackled as flames leapt into the air, warming the tent and keeping the cold of night away. Whilst the flames danced, I couldn't help but grin. "Honestly, I think we should bask in this moment. Revel in it. The riverlands are free of one of the most despicable line of kings since the Teagues and hopefully, we shall never suffer their ilk again..." I paused, letting my sentence hang in the air as my eyes travelled from each highborn that sat in the large tent. "Hopefully, whatever decision that we have all come to will see the riverlands prosper underneath whatever kingdom we swear fealty to."
Jon Mooton nodded his head. "We have come to a decision long and hard amongst us lords."
"Neat," I leaned back into my chair, watching everybody else. I noticed Lyam was positively beaming about something and with the way he was looking at me, I could make a guess at what. "So, I take it we won't have to travel far for the bending of the knee then?"
"A few steps in truth." Benjicot Bracken quipped.
I shook my head and played at the reluctant ruler trope. "I'm honoured my lords, but what of the position I gave?"
Bennar Darry spoke next then, a thin smile on his lips. "We will accept the creating of this standing army on the stipulation that men of noble birth shall make up its officers and generals."
That wasn't entirely a deal breaker for me. I had actually, expected such a thing. That was how ranks were decided back in ye olde days, thought if buying a rank or commission was ever going to be a thing, it would have to be regulated to make sure that only the competent can do so.
I didn't need no Lord Cardigan right now or in the future.
I would prefer some Wellesleys, Garnet Wolseley and Wolfes.
"I can agree with that as long as there is a stipulation that commoners of talent or recommended by a highborn to be an officer are allowed to do so." A little meritocracy wasn't a bad thing. It made people loyal.
And though it was rare, very rare, meritocracy did happen in Westeros.
Ser Duncan the Tall and Bronn being the most prime examples that jumped right at me at the moment.
The highborn looked among themselves, having silent conversations with their eyes, though I did notice a worrying trend that most of them seemed to look in the direction of Lord Mooton for something, confirmation perhaps. This guy worked fast, I'll give him that.
Seems like I'll have to be wary around him.
"That's more than agreeable!" Lord Goodbrook all but yelled with a laugh. "And the Kingdom of the Rivers and Hills rises again, like a phoenix from the ashes!"
Speaking of the 'Hills' part of that title, I have yet to notice any banners coming from that party of the country. Another headache that will need to be sorted out, but with this gathering of notables giving me legitimacy, it shouldn't be particularly hard to convince the rest of the lords that were not here to follow the leader.
Well, this should be fun and I wasn't being sarcastic at all.
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 18, 2018
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#137
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Harrenhal
Someone famous once said that 'time waits for no man'. I didn't particularly know if there was more to that quote or maybe I was taking it out of context, but I was more of the mind that the guy was probably on to something.
Time certainly wasn't giving me a chance to get acclimatized to my new station in life, even if I looked back on it, something that I had forced myself into due to my lack of planning on my part.
Axel had alluded to it a bit beforehand about the new title that would be given to me if I ascended to the throne, particularly, 'the Hills' part of the full title. Apparently, my new kingdom did not just include the traditional riverlands, no, they also included the northern part of the lands that would go on to become the crownlands.
That was right.
My new kingdom that the Hoares had so graciously given up to self-determination and rule found itself extending all the way down from the Neck to the mouth of the Blackwater. In other words, the Houses of the Antlers, Duskendale, Rosby, Stokeworth among others would now have to call me king.
Well, that is if they decided to throw in their lot with me instead of going south to a proven king like that of Argillac Durrandon down south in Storm's End. If they did, I wouldn't actually blame them for the act.
If I had the choice between an upstart opportunist or someone of already proven mettle and experience like Argillac, I'd go for Argillac no questions asked. Them doing so would actually, more than likely save me from several potential headaches that might arise from trying to see how I could come up with reasonable defences for a region notorious for having no natural defences what-so-ever.
Then the economic argument would slowly filter its way inside my head to tell me of the fact that Duskendale was the largest port city in that region that could bring in a healthy amount of monies in taxes. Antlers as well, considering it was a prospering town situated near well-travelled dirt-tracks-that-passed-for-roads, so once again, a healthy amount of taxes that could do a lot in helping a guy out when he's trying to bring back a kingdom from the throes of bankruptcy.
And that wasn't even getting into the political shit storm I would be setting for myself if I just let prosperous lands like that of the south just go without anything resembling a fight. That would be a good way for my vassals to just start rebelling or ignoring any of the edicts that I set out due to the fact that I would have proverbially de-toothed myself right in front of them for the entirety of the realm to see.
And I still wasn't taking into account that I was still waiting for replies from the northern riverlords to come bend the knee to me.
In other words,... there was quite a lot on my plate.
The entrance flap of the tent was pulled open as my first guest entered what was my offices for the moment, allowing the thirty-or-forty something Jon Mooton to enter and get my brain to move away from the woes I had put myself into actually doing stuff.
I stood up from my makeshift desk with a smile on my face. "Lord Mooton, I'm so glad that you could come so fast."
If he had been caught off guard by my friendliness, the Lord of Maidenpool didn't show it as he bowed respectfully at my greeting. "Your Grace," he greeted with respect equalled to the one he had just thrown into his bow. "How can I be of service?"
I wonder if the ability to suddenly respect new kings and the likes was ingrained into the riverland psyche because I was most certainly not expecting such easy shifting into my new form of address just hours after their decision to crown me king.
"Much in truth," I admitted sheepishly as I offered him a seat and retook my own. I had played with the idea of putting papers of some kind on the desk between us to make it seem like I was hard at work, but then, nothing had actually come to me and the effort of going through that entire mummer's farce made me wave it all away. "Lord Mooton, you happen to be one of the most seasoned men in the riverlands which in respect mean I might very well have need of you in the future for your advice and counsel in the running of the realm."
Flatter him. Compliment him. Tell him how good he looks in that half cloak and doublet of his. Try to somehow get him on side.
"Thank you, your grace." Well, that knocked the wind out of my sails as that was probably the driest response I would not have expected. "I am willing to serve the realm in whatever capacity you have need of me."
He could be a little bit more excited with the way he talked about it, but I decided to let it go. Maybe he just didn't do much when it came to expressing himself emotionally.
Though the calm yet somehow dead fish look he was giving me could be said to be somewhat unnerving. Thankfully, I had more than my fair share experience of maintaining awkward eye contact for long periods of time.
Those mock interviews by career services did come in handy at some point after all.
Returning his look with what was hopefully a friendly one, I continued speaking on the topic that I wanted to follow on. "Plainly speaking my lord, I have plans. Large plans that could very well help the building of our kingdom and see to it that it prospers."
The Lord of Maidenpool nodded. "As you say, your grace."
Seriously, I really wish this guy would give me more than these terse answers or replies to at least give me something to work with. I worked better with people who gave me something to work with, something that made the flow of conversation easier. I was not one of those people who loved to hear themselves talk.
Undeterred, I ploughed on through, not even dropping my friendly countenance with a smile still on my lips. Once again, years of experience as the awkward kid who didn't know when not to smile came in handy at points like this.
"But I have run into a problem. A problem of Harren's making and one that needs to be solved as soon as possible." I paused for a moment for a dramatic pause and to take a breath. "Frankly, I need coin. The Riverlands need coin. Without it, there is not much that we can do."
"And Harren has near beggared all of the houses of the realm." Jon Mooton said with an understanding look on his face.
It was the usual terse, short reply but it was useful.
I nodded with a smile. "Exactly! I suspect that many of the major houses still have coin in their vaults but I doubt the years of misrule by the Harren's would see us bring in a suitable amount of taxes that will see me carry out the plans I wish to implant in a quick and timely manner."
"Why not raise taxes?"
One of my eyebrows slowly rose up. "I did not see you one for japing, my lord."
"It was no jape."
I laughed at that but I still didn't believe him. Even he had to know that me raising taxes after reducing them from the high levels that Harren had forced upon the riverlords was more than likely to dry up whatever support that I had garnered up.
From my cursory understanding of feudal politics from the history books, taxes and lords did not go together. I swear more than a fair share of rebellions in England happened because some lords didn't want to pay additional taxes for one reason or another.
I'm sure Parliament started that way as well.
"Raising taxes would destroy whatever support I have, even if I put up a convincing argument for their necessity. And then there is also the fact that the highborn who support me have already agreed to the scutage payments for an armed force of the realm. I dare not step on their toes so early."
Like several hours early.
The red salmon was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Then what of Harrenhal? From my understanding, much finery has been found in the castle that could be sold for a hefty sum that could be used."
"True," I said, nodding in agreement. Much had been found that could be sold on for a good price that could bring in funds, some of it could even be melted down to be made into monies. "but I doubt it would be enough really. As much valuables as we have found in the castle with I suspect many more to go, it won't be enough for the governance of an entire realm."
At that, the lord of a town named after a folk tale nodded his head once more in understanding. "Without coin, not much can be done. I can understand deeply of your concerns then. I suspect a solution of some kind has been formed in your head?"
Nodding my head somewhat more enthusiastically than I would have liked, I answered his question. "The solution is simple; the Iron Bank."
"Dealing with Iron Bank is anything but simple."
"On that we can agree, but unfortunately, we happen to be in need of their gold. Without it, I doubt seeing our new kingdom lasting long."
A light came to his grey eyes then, shining brighter than they had been during our entire conversation. "I see. So, you want me to cross the narrow sea and be the envoy to them?"
"Yes!" I replied with vigour. "You see, Maidenpool is one of the largest cities in the riverlands-" yes, that was a deliberate slip of the tongue by me and judging by how his eyes became just a little wider, it must have caught with him. I meant to live up to that declaration. "-therefore, I assumed you must have a lot of experience dealing with merchants, money changers and their likes. More than me in truth."
It was a wholly truthful admission that I admitted with ease.
It wasn't shameful to admit to such a lacking of skills simply because neither me nor Edmyn had anything resembling experience to negotiating. I didn't even know where to start apart from making a list of outrageous demands before working down to a level accepted by all.
"I have some experiences in such matters." the lord admitted, inclining his head. "though I fear how good it will be against money changers of the likes of the braavosi."
That was some interesting introspective admission. I could take that several ways, but goddamn, this particular fish was making me rethink previous notions I had of Westerosi highborn as nothing more than complete utter lads apart from the occasional few.
Mooton seemed to be quietly pushing himself into the definitely not a lad pile of the bundle that I was building.
"I trust in your skills, Lord Mooton. You are the only lord that came to mind for such a mission."
"If it is that is what you wish your grace, then I will carry it out to the best of my abilities."
Neat.
We tried to hammer out further details as to the amount of actual gold we would need from the Iron Bank to make this work. It was rather difficult to do simply because neither of us would say that we had any sort of knowledge when it came to the national revenues.
It wasn't as if the Hoares actually kept any sort of records on hand about how much they were bringing in from taxation and where they spending it (though it was easy to guess for one them). Two of the Hoares kings had spent most of their reigns fighting in one war or another.
It could best be argued that Harren was the only one of the Hoare line of kings to have anything resembling a stable hold on the Riverlands, though Halleck could also be given that accomplishment as well if it wasn't for the constant wars he waged on seemingly everybody and everyone.
Eventually, we realised we would be going in dark here and the urgency of the matter made it rather difficult or downright impossible for me to put it off for a significant amount of time lest I found myself working with empty coffers.
So with nothing more than an agreement to get as much gold from the Iron Bank as possible (no better example of leaping into the dark I could think off came to mind) we agreed on that particular line of thought before I sent the lord off.
Of course, the Iron Bank wasn't going to be the only target as far as opening communications went. I had also given instructions to Lord Mooton to try and get friendly with the Sealord of Braavos, to open diplomatic links between our two states. Whilst with the added mission of doing some market research on engineers.
Engineers because I planned on building that great necessity in all of Westeros that every reader would be hammering on and on about; the canal.
A much more feasible one than the usual one that crossed through the entirety of the neck.
With that done, Lord Mooton made his leave to make preparations for his forthcoming journey to the east, but before he left, I asked him a few questions about a matter of state business that I meant to see to that he could have very well be knowledgeable about, which he proved to be.
That was one thing on my to do list done and moving onto my next one.
I sent for squires in search of my next guests. I was surprised I didn't have to wait long for them to arrive as three lords and a knight soon entered my tent. Once more, I rose up from my seat and greeted them all with a smile. "My lords, thank you for coming to see me so soon and quickly as well." I said as the lords Bracken, Darry and Goodbrook along with Ser Ethan Blackwood entered.
Lord Goodbrook still happened to be very loud as he greeted me back. Did he not have an indoor voice? "Your grace! Still without a crown I see?"
"Crowns can be crafted easily enough," I replied in good humour as I thought of the Targaryens and their many crowns. "What's important now is matters that ascertain to our fledgling realm and its continued survival."
With a motion of the hand, I offered them the simple seats opposite my equally simple desk that they took with simple courtesy. As I was lowering back down to take my seat, I made sure to take a quick glance of everybody's faces to see what sort of reaction they had to my last statement.
Lord Jason Goodbrook still looked loud and jovial but there was a bit more sombriety to his expression and Lord Benjicot (still a stupid name in my opinion) Bracken had his lips pressed a little too tight together that showed something. Lord Benarr Darry held a look of benign interest whilst Ser Ethan had about as much an expression on his face as a block of granite.
"What can we do for you, your grace?" Lord Darry asked, a hand idly toying with the curly hairs of his beard.
"Well, Lord Darry, I was wondering, what can you tell me of the Buckwells, Darklyns, Rosbys and their likes."
He raised an eyebrow at my question before he smoothly shrugged his shoulders at the line of questioning. "Not much your grace. I can tell you that they are good houses of noble and ancient history, but nothing about their lords personally. Our lands are far apart from each other and occasions to meet never happened to come up. I can only tell you from what I've heard, but I wouldn't trust such hearsay."
"Some hearsay can contain some truth though." The lord of Stone Hedge said, butting into the conversation.
The ploughman waved him off though somewhat diplomatically. "Exaggerations and fables more like. Truths can be hard to discern from such things."
Once again, Hoares be damned for making socialising between the lords of their realm a bad thing. Very few people knew anybody not from their neck of the woods. It didn't surprise me much that not much of the riverlords proper knew anything definite about the crownlander lords.
Thankfully, Lord Mooton had been more knowledgeable about them due to the fact that he happened to be the southernmost situated lord on hand.
"I heard someone else say the same thing really." I said, resting my head on a knuckle. "they spoke of the history of the houses but not about the current people in them. Only cursory knowledge that would be of not much help."
Lord Goodbrook furrowed his eyebrows. "Help for what?"
"Whether they would bend the knee to me now that the Hoares have been toppled or would see royal protection from elsewhere, the Storm King being the most plausible suspect."
That brought eyebrows rising up, yet Ser Ethan remained expressive much like a brick wall. It was almost downright unnerving. "I'm sure just like us, they had no love for Harren or the Hoares, with your victory over him, they are sure to love you."
"Those lands are rich, they would be glad to rid of the taxes and burdens that Harren forced on them." Lord Goodbrook said. "They would be all kinds of whoresons if they just decided to bend the knee to Argillac before they ever said a word to you."
Lord Darry stroked his beard in thought. "And that, my lords, would be the point. Though valiant is our Tully king, he is young and unproven. They might feel better in the safety of Argillac's kingdom than that of this very one that is being built."
Exactly!
And that wasn't even going into the potential shit-storm I would have to suffer from just having to deal with the aftermath of such a thing. I might as well call it quits if that happens.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, my lords," gods be good, the statue speaks! And his voice was just as dull as his expression. "but haven't the lands past the Blackwater been consistently raided by the stormlords? I doubt many of the Blackwater lords would have any love for the stormlanders. I doubt they would bend so easily."
"Though they would still bend, if forced to do so. Whether they like the stormlanders or not, if it means to save them from unnecessary sacrifice and death from a superior force, they would bend the knee." The lord of Castle Darry stopped playing with his beard for a moment to glance at me. "I suspect you wish us to travel south and convince the Blackwater lords to bend the knee to you instead, your grace?"
The same, easy smile that had been plastered on my face now find itself directed towards the ploughman for getting to where I was going with this meeting. It was still early days, early, early days since the riders had been sent south the moment I realised the true extent of my new holdings. Nowhere near enough time for the recipients to respond, I doubt they even got the messages, but time was of the essence.
The move of making the Blackwater lords bend to me through nothing more than sheer force might see them very well not like me now, but I meant to improve relations when I didn't have a noose hanging onto my neck.
"That's exactly the point, my lord." I replied as I moved my eyes to make sure they met each of the four assembled men that had been chosen for this particular task for one reason or another. Lord Goodbrook because he seemed to be in mostly my corner judging by how friendly and how vocal he had been during our first meeting, Lord Bracken and Ser Ethan because those two willingly supported me and hopefully, forcing the two to work together could start mending fences and Lord Darry because, well, he was still a lord of note. "I was hoping to dispatch a force to the south to... convince certain lords that House Tully would be able to protect them and their lands. I meant to entrust the overall command of such a mission to Lord Darry, with Lords Bracken and Goodbrook with Ser Ethan as added steel."
It wasn't exactly gunboat diplomacy but it was close enough.
"Can we take additional men with us?" Ser Ethan asked quietly, his voice with no inflection of tone. "In case some of the lords are in need of a more... definite conversation about his grace's merits."
I nodded. "That you can. Some of my own levies and horse shall be in your party as well, and I shall see to acquiring more men for you if the amount between you three is not enough."
Jason Goodbrook chuckled, shaking his head. "No need, I think we shall be more than enough! Woe to the idiots that don't bend the knee to their rightful king!"
Okay, I was liking that enthusiasm because this definitely needed to work on the grounds that I did not like the notion of failure and how if it does fail, my beautiful little head would find itself being removed from my soft, pale neck.
And I wasn't counting on being inserted into another fictional reality twice in a row.
Once was more than lucky enough.
The smooth, disc-like stone skipped a dozen times or so in the blue waters of the God's Eye, each dart across the waters sending out a ripple that faded into the calm waters after its journey. The stone must have disturbed some fish underneath the water because one leapt out from the path it had travelled before losing its energy and sinking into the dark waters before.
"And here I thought it was going to go all the way to the Isle of Faces." I cursed playfully with a snap of the fingers.
Said island stood in the distance and from what I could recall of the maps, might as well have been damn straight bang on in the middle of the lake. Was that a natural phenomenon or something conjured up by the children? I doubted rare features like that just popped out of the blue.
God didn't build in straight lines.
Then again, some geography from back home might as well be seen canny or odd... if only I had paid more attention.
Tall leafy trees rose up on the island, giving it a green and brown lush and according to the locals, not even in winter did the trees lose their leaves. I suppose that meant that the trees were evergreens, but I'd wager the greenmen had something to do with that.
It really wouldn't surprise me since they are what could basically be the druids of Planetos. Hell, Westeros was somehow Britain and Europe at the same time. Martin liked to make sure that his geography was weird and strange and perhaps not make all that much sense according to many on the internet.
Note to self, I should probably visit the greenmen and see what canny little magic tricks they could do for us.
Axel stood beside me, idly tossing another smooth stone from the lake shore around us. "That would have been a feat to see." He replied before tossing his own stone across the waters with a quick, smooth action that sent the stone travelling.
"I didn't want to make you jealous." I replied with something of an impish delight. "I'm amazing enough as it is without making you look bad." Axel looked away from the lake to spare me a look before shaking his head as he looked away. The entire thing was strange. "What?"
"Oh nothing, just somethings on my mind, that's all." He replied but before I could question him on the subject further, he moved the conversation on. "I don't think you have much to worry about with Lord Mooton."
"I don't?" I asked, straightening myself up as I prepared to throw my own stone into the waters once more. I was in the lead in this little game of ours but just barely. "There were a lot of highborns seemingly giving Lord Mooton quite the looks in that tent. I noticed it, you noticed it, Lyam noticed it."
"Most of them his vassals." The younger Tully replied as a breeze passed through the area, sending the leaves of trees ruffling and messing up my throw from my hair going into my eyes. Axel looked amused at my limp effort as he moved to do the same himself. "So, no surprises there really. Some of them were lords but most who could easily be swayed with the right incentives."
Sending Lord Mooton to Braavos to treat with Braavos and the Iron Bank wasn't something I just did because the man had the potential skills for it, but it also allowed me to send Axel and Lyam as my feelers around the highborns in camp to see where they would look at for influence and which lords they would gather.
Lord Mooton seemed to be one of those lords that would be highly influential in the short-lived kingdom that was I was building considering the fact that he would be one the richest lords in realm due to his holdings. Though that wasn't much compared to my own holdings, I would prefer it if I had the most reigning influence rather than have to deal with several influential people at once.
"I don't think I have any incentives at all, at the moment."
"Really? Not even a position at court?" He stopped for a moment, blue eyes the same as my new ones looking at me in mild amusement. "You do plan on having some sort of court, yes?" I gave him a look at how dumb the question was and all he did was shrug with an impish smile of amusement on his face. He turned back to the game and threw another stone, this one skipping further than mine did. "Then you have incentives. Though if you fear Lord Mooton so, there is another simple way of bringing him on side."
We were down to our last two pebbles and by then, I had already lost interest in the game or my chances of victory. "Like what?"
"He has a daughter." Said Axel. "A couple from what I can understand."
Oh, was he implying marriage? That wasn't a bad idea really.
"I thought to try and seek a marriage from outside our borders truthfully."
Axel stopped abruptly to look at me, less the eyes of a brother and more the eyes of an elder about to tell me off about something. Which was strange.
"That would be a horrible idea, brother. A. Horrible. Idea."
My lips moved to form a frown on their own before I knew they did it. "Why? I could secure one of our defenceless borders in such a manner." I would really love to hear why he would think that would be such a bad idea.
With our game seemingly forgotten, Axel started pacing between the waters of the God's Eye and me, hands tucked behind his back. "Our foreign goodfamily might very well try to impose themselves on us and our kingdom. The riverlords might very well take it kindly if it's one of them, thought I doubt it would be met with such a manner if it was the Lannisters, Arryns, Gardeners, Starks or Durrandons. They would think that we might very well become puppets to them and our newly freed, independent lands have become territories of a foreign power once more, this time, without even a fight and brought in willingly by their new king. The one they chose at that."
…
I could see where he was coming from and I definitely had not thought about that when I was thinking about it. And in truth, the little brother did have something of a point here. If my new royal goodfamily started imposing on the riverlands, the riverlords might not take it kindly.
And considering the accommodation that will have to be made, there wouldn't be much room to wiggle around.
"I was just thinking about it." I eventually said with a sigh. "Nothing definite had come to mind. It was nothing more than a little thought."
The little brother stared at me for a moment, searching for something before he nodded his head. "So, the Mooton daughter?"
"The Mooton daughter." I agreed with this new subject. "learn anything about her?"
"According to one of household knights I found myself speaking to, she has," he coughed for a moment. "'vast tracks of land' which was promptly followed by a leery laugh and a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows. You can take from that what you will."
I was somewhat offended that my little brother thought that big jiggly things to quote self-insert I once read would be more than enough to attract my attention. I was not that shallow. "Neat."
Once again, Axel gave me a look over which I replied to with a raised eyebrow. He tossed a pebble into the air, a confident smirk coming onto his lips. "Well then, back to our game? If I'm not wrong, you were about to lose handily."
I scoffed. "You need to learn to count then brother, one is not handily at all."
His smirk was still on his face as he replied. "It is if you are the loser."
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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TryingToBeKuw
TryingToBeKuw
I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 21, 2018
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#169
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Harrenhal
It was rather painfully obvious that the prisoner had seen better days. As he walked to what was essentially his death, I noticed that he had deteriorated physically faster than I thought it was possible. Harren had never been exactly a big man to start but he had been big enough. Big enough to fill the clothes that he wore, but now to see him so stick thin and bony that made the clothing that had been given to him just hang loosely on him brought something of a sobering realisation that once upon a time, this had been a man of terrifying capabilities.
Despite all that, his hair thin, ragged and dirty, Harren was dragged towards the axeman with little objection. It seemed the weathering of the elements ever since he was captured had taken a heavy toll from him. There were no curses, no defiance, not even a single shred of will left in his manner.
If it was anybody else, it would almost be a sad end to a man that had been the most powerful in all of Westeros but judging by the sheer expectancy I could feel literally hanging in the air, the people wanted this. There was an excitement to it.
Hell, if I had charged for this event, I would have walked away a very rich man.
A shame that nobody had any gold on hand.
Perhaps that was the reason as to why nobody had tried to slip a gold dragon to one of the cooks to slip some poison into Harren's meal to let him suffer some sort of really painful death, the sort of death that had once been applied to a certain golden prick that will hopefully (not) be born for a couple of centuries.
Maybe even the tears of Lys, I hear that poison made you go out in some discomfort from what I remember reading about it in A Game of Thrones or whatever else passed for poison in this blasted hellscape that made for a universe.
Actually, I should be thankful this isn't any of the Warhammer universes. If it had been any of those universes, I might as well give up and consign myself to a horrible death unsuspectingly.
Wait... gold dragons were not going to be a thing for a decade... fuck.
…
Actually, considering this is Aegon I'm thinking about, they probably aren't going to be a thing until Jaehaerys comes along and does actual governing stuff...
Double fuck.
Well, that's another thing on my to-do list for the next decade then.
Harren's last moments in this world had drawn quite the crowd. There were highborn amongst the viewers, many of them had been the first to respond to the rebellion, others had soon trickled into Harrenhal as news actually spread that this had actually happened and finally come to bend the knee to me and the rest was all the smallfolk that were composed of the levies the lords had brought but the vast majority the normal men, women and children that had been enslaved by Harren to build the monument to his ego.
As with how these sorts of things went, all sorts of words and taunts were being thrown at Harren as fists were shaken very angrily in the air. The sheer volume of the thousands of angry voices all yelling at once was near deafening from how close I stood along with the fact that it made it difficult to make out many of the words that were being cried out, though some could be picked up in the air.
"I hope you burn in the seven hells, you fucking monster!"
"Tyrant!"
"Kill him slowly!"
"No mercy! No quarter!"
As he neared the gallows, the shouts just seemed to get a hike in volume as the crowd was more than definitely getting into it. It had been odd at first, them all quiet at first before the volume started increasing and increasing the closer and closer Harren made to the gallows that had been erected just for him.
The gallows that would see him answer for all the pain, misery, anger and death he had caused.
And not just him, I suspect.
This included to his entire family as well.
Harren's actions no doubt would colour that of his family that came before him and those of his children that are still alive, of that I am quite sure. Just like how in canon, everybody wanted to kill the Freys for the Red Wedding despite the fact that some of the Freys were actually quite decent folk.
If they had the tools for the job, they would have likely thrown Harren all kinds of crap at him, crap included, but they didn't. I could have also let them rip Harren limb from limb like they did to the Fat Septon in the series, but I didn't.
I was a king.
He was still sort of a king, a defeated one, but still a king.
A certain respect had to be shown to the station and I also wanted to build a certain kind of image.
The sort of image that I wanted to build was still hazy and forming in my mind, but I figured the sort of image that a good king would have. One that respects and cares for people, even though I was mostly an apathetic person in truth in things that concerned me.
General apathy to near everything was a key philosophy in life for me. I found a certain joy when people found out to their surprise I cared nothing for most of the passions of the world, apart from the little things that brought me amusement.
I don't think this entire scenario that had been forced upon me was going to be one of those things I was going to enjoy much.
Harren rose up the stairs with a ponderous step, weak as he was that the guards had to half-carry him for the rest before they brought him to where the axe man was. A hand from each guard was placed on his shoulders before they pushed down, forcing the man onto his knees in front of the executioner's block, the headsman standing ominously at the side.
The crowd was still making noise, but I rose my hands and made to quieten them down. There was no way I was going to shout above all this noise.
It took several moments and a couple more repeated such motions from me, but they started quieting down, though murmurs could still be heard.
I turned to look at Harren, gazing down at him on his knees. "Any last words?" I asked. Harren turned his head sideways and up to face me and with all the strength that he had, he harked a glob of spit in my face. I tried not to think of all the bacteria that hanged around in his mouth as I wiped it all away carefully, making sure that no open orifices were touched by the biohazard material. "I'll take that as a resounding 'No' then."
I was surprised I had been able to control myself so much at the action. The sheer disrespect of spitting on someone. I had been sent off in football games back home because of my reaction at being spit at. It never ended well for the offender who thought you could just do that.
It was a good thing then that either way, Harren was finally about to get his comeuppance for the lack of basic respect and human decency.
That train of thought then just made me realise I was in Westeros, were basic human decency was in short supply. A place that was somehow worse than the stereotypical Dark Ages of Europe.
A nod from me was more than enough for Harren's head to be pushed onto the stump.
The headsman took a few steps to get into position and he slowly raised his axe. The crowd became deathly silent, everyone's breaths hanging in the back of their throats whilst I watched the entire scene with something akin to a morbid fascination. The sort of morbid fascination one used to watch the sort of horror films where you know people are going to die horrible deaths on screen but you watch anyway.
It all seemed surreal.
A little over a month ago, I did not think I would be watching someone's head be chopped off live. Right in front of you live.
This all seemed like a dream, yet it was now my reality.
And I was taking all of this remarkably well.
Good god, the morality guardians were right, videogames and films had desensitized us all to violence. Now if they could only do something about all those bad dreams I occasionally get... we would be golden.
The headsman held the axe in the air for a moment, before it flashed in the sunlight, before it fell.
The stump made out of a block of trees made a thump sound as the axe lodged into it. The blade didn't sing in the air or make any sort of sound effect as the films would have you believe. No shing, shang, shoon. Nothing.
Just the thump from the stump and that was it.
Oh, there was also the sound of the head hitting in the wooden floor of the gallows with something of a thud and what I think was the squirting of blood from Harren's neck as his heart pumped a few more times before calling it a day forever.
Harren's head rolled to a stop some few inches away from me, at an angle that made his beady eyes look right up at me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered seeing on Youtube an Assassin's Creed Unity trailer about Louis XV (...I think?) being executed by guillotine before the camera did a whole freaky point-of-view change thing.
The viewer started seeing the world from the eyes of the decapitated head.
Could in this very moment, Harren be seeing me right now? Was his brain still active? Still thinking? Cursing me? Hopefully, not too hard because curses might actually be an actual thing in these parts.
Hopefully, it was all nothing more than gameplay theatrics and not actual thing.
I know quite a few facts about the human body, but I don't think that was one of them.
Anyway, it didn't matter and it was then that I noticed the deafening silence was still deafening. A quick glance around showed that the people were waiting for something. For what I had no idea.
The little brother and our cousin stood with some of the best seats in the house. That didn't sort of make any sense considering how could they seat if they were stood? A riddle for the ages, I suppose. What I am trying to say is that Axel and Lyam had probably the best view in the entirety of this little saga with right at the front of the gallows.
And for some reason, they had been staring at me intently with their eyes, trying to convey to me something as if I was Jean Grey and telepathic all out of the blue. Somehow, in unison, the blonde and the ginger both kept having their eyes rise from the gallows floor to meet mine. Then again. Then again and again.
I followed what their eyes were indicating towards and I didn't like what I was seeing.
A dry stare was all they got from me.
Their eyes were more frantic.
No.
Almost pleading.
No.
Begging.
I hated them for this, but with the most plastic smile that I could muster that was hiding all kinds of screaming that was going on internally right now, I bent down low and picked up the head, trying to not get any sort of blood on me. Then raised it up high to the roars of thousands.
Oh lawdy, I could feel the blood ruining my well-made doublet.
This doublet needed to be burned, that was the only acceptable thing left to do because who knows what sort of disgusting microbiological shit that had been swimming around in Harren's blood? Actually, this entire everything needed to be burned.
I just had to be sure.
The doublet and the woollen shirt underneath it could not have been off me fast enough with the way I hurled myself into my tents and began to change my clothes. I could have been faster, but nooo, I had to stick around and be sociable with the lordlings and their congratulations and all that bullshit when I could feel Harren's blood crawling on my skin.
Pointedly ignoring the fact that this was to be my life for the next ten years was something I was doing quite well because making pointless small talk was not how I did things. When I made small talk, it was because I liked the subject on hand about the small talk.
I was beginning to question all the decisions that I had made that had brought me to this particular point in my life as I slipped myself into a new shirt with the excitement and relief of a man who was unpacking his new Lamborghini Murcielago figurine straight out of its package because that is the closest he would ever get to the car.
"That was nicely done." Lyam announced all of a sudden with an ever-present smile on his face as he entered my tent, closely followed by Axel. "Do you hear that?" He motioned towards the flap as it closed behind them were jubilant sounds could be heard. "the people are crying out your name."
My hearing was definitely better in this body than in my old one, so I definitely knew that Lyam was talking all kinds of crap. "Sounds more like drunk to me, coz."
"Then you need new ears, coz." His hands found themselves on my shoulders and he gave me a good hearty shake. "I can't believe you are now a king. Seven hells, I can't even believe any of the things that have happened over the past couple of days."
Axel moved to the side. "Best believe it then because it has happened."
"I know..." Lyam sounded wistful as he replied, having finally spared me from the shaking. "It's just, I never thought I would see the day the Hoares toppled. Waking up to this new reality is still quite unbelievable."
"If you need someone to pinch you to make sure you aren't dreaming, I'm all for it, coz." I looked between the two of them before frowning and crossing my arms. "I didn't enjoy picking up his head, just so you know."
Axel had found himself a seat which he took but had to adjust some to make sure it gave him a clear view of the rest of the insides of the tent. "It needed to be done. The people needed to see that he was dead."
"By your hand as well," the heir to Seagard chimed in whilst nodding his head in firm agreement. "all those people will go back to their homes now, spreading tales of how justice was brought to Harren by their new king. It will do you wonders, coz."
Looking between the two of them, I could already see the beginnings of what I was assuming was my advisory council that would not be the small council. One of the many complaints people made about the small council was the fact that for all intents and purposes, too much power had been put into a small number of people.
All to satisfy the Andals seemingly unhealthy fascination with the number seven.
Speaking of numbers, I found myself a seat as well. "There was a couple of faces I did not recognise amongst the highborn. New supplicants come to bend the knee to their new king?"
"Aye, the most noticeable of them being Ser Franklyn Frey, heir to the Crossing himself."
Lyam had the largest smile on his face that showed all his pearly whites. "The Freys are the northern most house in the riverlands. With the heir here, you can now claim to have dominion over the northern parts of the realm." seeing them pearly whites reminded me that dental hygiene was better than I thought in Westeros. It was downright uncanny the amount of people that had really good teeth.
"I suppose that only leaves the south then." I said, thinking of Lord Darry and the men that had gone south for some good old diplomacy made under duress. "Remind to set some time aside to speak to the lordlings in private. Get a good read on them and all that."
"Many of them are minor lordlings with little to their name apart from some land holdings and much less in claims, it wouldn't be worth the effort. It would be better to focus on the more notable and influential lords." My little brother shook his head. "You shouldn't overstretch yourself unnecessarily."
"I don't plan to, but even the minor lordlings might prove to be quite helpful in their own way. Especially if they feel valued by their new king."
The second son of Riverrun didn't look like he believed me but he nodded. "If you say so but let me talk to the minor ones then. You focus on the ones of greater influence."
Lyam seconded that idea with a nod. "It might not be the king, but the king's brother is still quite the honour to some minor lord from nowhere though care should be made to some of the more notable lords. I'd suggest you meet the heir to the Crossing first."
An auburn eyebrow that was not mine shot up. The act was surprising because the little brother from my understanding and from what I had seen of him, was one to emote much. "Truly? The Frey? There must be more notables worthy of the king's visit first than a Frey. I won't deny that the Freys have power to them, probably more so, than some, but their name and history leaves much to be desired."
Oh yeah, I just remembered, the Freys are Westeros original '"Where is my respect?" Guy' family. The sort of conditions that led them producing Walder fucking Frey, though granted, that was some two hundred and something years from now.
Actually, now that I think about it, the Freys are still relatively new since they are probably less than three hundred years old at the moment.
Lyam made to speak, but I cut in front of him. "I think I'll see him first actually."
Axel breathed in, some displeasure on my little brother's tone of voice as he spoke. "Some of the more proudful lords might not like that. Can I ask why?"
"No particular reason and at the very least, I should be the one to deliver him the bad news when I tell him that I'm coming for his family's monopoly over the Green Fork."
The fact that there was only one bridge on the goddamn Green Fork continues to be an annoyance that I will never understand. After reading all of the inconsistency, it was easier to chalk it up to Martin's usual of not actually putting in the extra mile to make his story make sense.
Lyam blinked at me whilst Axel merely raised an eyebrow. It was Lyam who broke first. "I am sure that you have a great plan of some kind that won't be seeing us thrown into internal war so soon after finishing this one coz? Your army hasn't even been built yet." He said before he paused for a moment. "And what's a monopolily?" He finished, his face and mouth twisting as he tried to say the foreign word that didn't exist in the Westron language.
How do I explain the meaning? These guys weren't stupid, at some point they were going to have questions about were all these strange words I kept sprouting from time to time came from, especially when they sounded so foreign compared to the Common Tongue.
"It's a word I read somewhere in a book from across the narrow sea." I lied quickly. It was a sort of lie that had some truths to it. Monopoly was a word that came from across a rather narrow stretch of water back home. I corked my head to the side to make a show of trying to think of its meaning. "The book bored me but I think the word meant something or another about control or something. In this case, their control of the only bridge over the Green Fork."
"Is that so?" Lyam shrugged the matter of easily with a shrug. I held back a sigh and on the sly, I glanced at Axel who seemed to have shrugged the matter away as well. Neat. I was safe. And I really should be more careful. "Well, their control of the Green Fork has brought them great wealth. Something I think they would be less kind to just see it destroyed."
"It's not going to be immediate," I said with a soft smile. "Just over time, dismantling their control brick by brick. They won't know what will hit them when it does."
Fun fact, it would be really easy for me to build a new bridge over the Green Fork. All I would have to do is go to the other houses that sat along the river or the river included in their boundaries just that I'm quite sure those houses are in the pockets of the Freys or something else otherwise they would have done it already.
The Freys were still stupidly rich, even some three centuries from canon.
"Brother," Axel brought me out of my thoughts as he indicated towards the outside world where celebrations were still happening. "you know something is still going to have to be done about the smallfolk, right? Since you were so worried about influence, distributing some of the smallfolk towards some lords might very well build some bridges."
The distribution of the smallfolk that had been released was going to be something that I wasn't exactly pleased to deal with simply because I didn't know where to start. Well, I did know where to start. Common logic would dictate that the lands around Harrenhal would be the most depopulated, but some of the lords had been making noises about the lack of smallfolk for their own lords, even if they were located a far distance away from Harrenhal.
Despite the glaring fact that the lords didn't exactly see the smallfolk as people but more as a resource that they could add to their own power, it was still amazing how woeful they treated them.
Lyam blinked. "The smallfolk are not thralls to be parcelled between lords, Axel. One of their rights is that they can go as they please. The decision is up to them."
"I would be more surprised that smallfolk are aware of that particular right of theirs." My little brother replied with a shrug of their shoulders. "I know it's bad but I would rather brother goes into his reign with solid friendships... and anyway, many of these people can't even remember or know the land they come from or who their lord is."
"Have you even tried?"
"Enough to know it's a pointless endeavour." His lips thinned for a moment. "Though I also say that the smallfolk that know where they come from should return to their homes unmolested. The ones that don't know where they come from need to be told where to go lest they make a nuisance for themselves and others."
Looking between the two of them, I couldn't help but think that Axel and Lyam were much alike but different at the same time. Both were of a honourable sort, pleasant and courteous, but Axel was more of a pragmatic and level-headed mind whilst Lyam tended to be the idealistic nice guy.
A shame really, because in Westeros, the idealistic nice guy did not seem to last long.
Lyam wanted the people to go back to their homes and families whilst Axel wanted to send the released smallfolk to the lands of nobles that would be useful friends.
My little brother was more political at fifteen than I ever was.
"Axel has the right of it," I said with a sigh and Lyam gave me the same look a puppy would give as if it had been shot. "Don't look at me like that Lyam. My brother has the right of it, many of these smallfolk don't know where they come from, the ones that do will be allowed to return to their villages and families. The others will be spread amongst the lands surrounding Harrenhal were Harren's demands made the most damage. It's fair at least."
I think it was fair.
It allowed the repopulation of the area and that would definitely build me friends on the matter from the lords around Harrenhal, Lord Harroway being one of the most noteworthy lords who is going to be really chummy with me after this.
It's not as if I had actual control on the matter but royal patronage on the matter could go a long way.
By the way Lyam was looking at me, he didn't like it but he agreed to it nonetheless with the curt nod that he gave me.
"It's a good decision." Said Axel reassuringly. "May not be what you would like, but at least it's something."
And thus, this was to be my life, making decisions that could very well be separating long-lost families for political expediency. This was to be my life and thus, I really needed a drink.
A really long one.
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 23, 2018
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#179
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Harrenhal
Ser Franklyn Frey, heir to the Crossing, was to my pleasant surprise not a weasel.
He did not look like a weasel and he most certainly did not hold himself like a weasel. I don't know why this surprised me considering the fact that the weasel features of the Freys turned up in the family when a certain Walder Frey came into existence.
The lordling heir to one of the richest houses (probably. The Freys were bloody rich in canon) was tall, dark haired and comely looking with light brown almost golden hazel like eyes. He entered the tent in his finest clothing of a dark blue doublet with a grey half cape draped over one shoulder in a fashionable sense, though his dear leather boots were ruined somewhat by the sprinkling of mud that had been picked up on his way here.
I gave him a once over and wondered if it had been truly necessary to go out of his way to dress as well as he had. Now that I think about it, if the highborn that I had met had a chance to, they would meet me in their most fashionable state.
How they even bothered to bring a spare amount of clothes on a campaign was beyond me.
Note to self, officers shall only take essentials on campaign.
At some point in time, I was going to have to plagiarise a lot of quotes from people that used to exist back from my world and put them into some form of book. It would go a long way into somehow being able to tell the people of Westeros how to not be stupid.
I doubted it, but hey, someone can at the very least, hope right?
"Your grace," the heir to the Crossing greeted me with enough courtesy to not be considered disrespectful to his new overlord as he held himself straight and strong. "I hope you would at least give me the chance to congratulate you on your coronation."
Hearing him say those words, I wanted to give him a look and cask 'Coronation? What coronation? I don't even have a crown yet!' But I decided to forgo that route since I was trying to make friends and pointing out the pointless banality of some (99% of the) lords would go a long way into me not being able to make friends.
I think it was about time I thoroughly brought him out of his safety zone by confusing the living shit out of him.
Having done this a couple of times by now, I had worked out a routine to go about greeting the lords and lordlings alike. First, I would take them for a rounder by being a bit too friendly that would make them build the sort of impression of me that can be used in the future.
So, I plastered on my face the biggest, loudest smile I could summon and by the practice I had by now, it was easy. "Ser Franklyn!" I greeted all to cheerily as I rounded my desk and made my way towards him. His reaction to my sudden and somewhat loud greeting was just a blink as his face took on the cadence of someone trying to figure out what was going on. "A pleasure to finally meet you! How have you been? Not too bad I hope." I finished, taking his hand into mine and vigorously shaking it.
He looked very confused but he took to the hand shaking like a champ as he was quick to shake under his own power and by the slight squeezing of the hand around mine, we had entered the little phase of seeing who'll relent first.
Unfortunately, I already had experience with this and I had been able to time it just right. I had figured out how long to shake someone's hand without releasing too soon after a little pressure that made to look like I was weak. Then there was the opposite problem of shaking too long that would make it rather awkward for everybody involved.
It was that famous sweet spot that I had found and reached, so I released his hand which prompted him to do the same. The way he glanced down at his hand as it moved back to his side was all I needed to know that I had won that particular round.
I kept the big, loud smile on my face as I threw a hand around his shoulders. "Gods, where are my manners? Come, come, take a seat." I said as I led him towards the desk and where the seats lay. "Please, tell me of your journey. How was it?"
Ser Franklyn Frey took the seat with the look of a dear lost in headlights. More than likely he was very confused with the persona of the king in front of him and of the one he had about if he had done his due diligence. Or probably just by the sheer confusion of it all. "The journey was easy enough though we did come across some overzealous bands of hedge knights and smallfolk in search of ironborn. I would name them bandits on any other day, but our heraldry was recognised and they allowed us to go on our way more often than note with little trouble."
Ser Franklyn wasn't the first lordling to tell me about problems on the roads with the...uh... patriots? Was it still too early to call them patriots? They were going after ironborn still dumb enough to try and stay in the riverlands, but then again, the notion of nationalism whilst it did in fact sort of exist in this part of Westeros, wasn't exactly a noted phenomenon of any kind from my understanding.
It wasn't going to be for long, but I aimed very much to harness that latent nationalism and build my power from it.
But still these... patriots or mobs had to be dealt with at some point. Couldn't have them running around making a nuisance of themselves on the roads especially if trade was to pick up.
"I already have knights and riders hitting the roads already to send the more compliant ones back to their farms and the less compliant ones more forcefully if need be." I told him as I moved towards the side of the tent were the decanter was located. "but enough of that, would you care for a drink?" Once again, catch them blindsided with generosity and the actions fit not for a king.
The slightly older man blinked at me somewhat confused before nodding his head. "Uh yes, thank you, your grace."
All I did was smile and pour some warm apple cider into two goblets and bring them over to the table. He accepted the drink I held out for him with remarkable grace before I moved on to take my seat on the other side of the table.
Now that Phase One was over and done with, it was time to move onto Phase Two.
The big, loud smile then slowly morphed into one of sheepishness as I looked at him. "Apologies for the summons coming so early in the morn. There is a lot that takes my attention nowadays and I would like to deal with the most important first and as well when all of my wits are with me."
I tried to make it seem not too obvious that I was studying his reaction to my praising of him and the hint that I was making that House Frey was rather important to me and the realm at large. It was sort of true, them being rich from their bridge made them rather important to me.
Studying people wasn't exactly my strongest suit, but I did notice that he seemed a little straighter than before and he had somewhat got a little brighter if that made sense. If it got brighter and he held himself a little straighter, I was going to assume I had done well and that the hint had been caught and thus, things were going well.
"My lord father has always told me that one who wakes earlier does more work." Said Ser Franklyn Frey with a slight nod of the day. "I took his words to heart and thus, your grace, your summons did not take me at all by surprise."
The early bird catches the worm, eh? That was a good work ethic to have. Shame I didn't have it.
"Lord..." I frowned as I tried to think of the name of the Lord of the Crossing only to come blank. I gave the lordling a sheepish look. "Apologies for this, my lord. I don't think I've ever met your lord father."
A small smile came across his face. "It's fine, your grace. The past times did not give much chance for such meetings and my lord father is not one inclined for travel outside the boundaries of our lands. If the times were better, Lord Walter Frey would have been overjoyed to meet you."
"I think I would have been overjoyed as well to meet Lord Frey." I said with a nod of acknowledgement at him for giving me the name of the lord. "he sounds like someone I would get along with him. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but is he well?"
"A little sickly, that is all."
That explained why the heir was here instead of the lord himself.
It wasn't all that strange really, considering that Carlton Charlton was here as a representative of the Charltons. He wasn't even the heir to House Charlton but the second son. A slight? Probably, but I didn't really care at all about slights.
When you had next to nothing in pride, you hardly noticed anything resembling a slight. And anyway, insults were a dime a dozen between me and the people that I had come to know in my old life.
After that, I enquired some about the general affairs of House Frey, you know, make some friendly talk to try and get a better idea of the man that sat in front of me and his house. Their recent history was quite interesting really.
Interesting as in the fact that they had been involved in a local war that saw them gain some lands from a house that had a member I thought of as something of a minor annoyance; House Charlton. That was somewhat amusing as far as I was concerned, even though I know just one-member colouring my entire view of a family was just bad form.
I just blamed it on Charlton being an annoyance that I didn't particularly like for known reasons.
The days I spent in Harrenhal started taking on a monotonous routine that I wished that I could be rid of. Every day, some new lord or lordling representing some other lord of somewhere in the Riverlands would find himself at the great castle. Either me or Axel would speak with the lord or lordling at the earliest chance we got, coming to know them and getting them onboard the idea of House Tully as the new royal house for the region.
Of course, most of this convincing was done subtly or thrown right in their face through the tour of the Harrenhal camp that boasted several dozens of sigils and heraldries and thousands of men from houses that already called me their king or the thousands of smallfolk that sang their songs about me. Seeing all this, by the end of it all, everyone that came to Harrenhal would soon be ready and willing to drop to their knees and proclaim me their king.
I was honestly doing this for their own good. I certainly did not enjoy people dropping to a knee and proclaiming their so called 'undying' loyalty at me and House Tully.
The first chance they got, I was sure they were going to stab me in the back.
The routine continued for more than I would like before the stream of lords coming to pay me their fealty started drying out and became to be overwhelmed by lords returning back to their lands after the success of our little rebellion. Sure, Harwyn and the rest of the Hoares might have escaped and by now had probably made good time to the nearest coast that would let them set sail for the Iron Islands, everything else was a resounding success.
The Riverlands were free and I didn't have to worry about doing something that might piss of Harren into trying to kill me for some insult or another.
When the lords left, they did not go home alone. Hundreds, sometimes even thousands of smallfolk left with a particular lord or groups of lords. Amongst them were Lord Symon Harroway who couldn't have left Harrrenhal a happier man judging by the smile he had been hostng on his face or how thankful he was at having the chance to repopulate his lands with the extra hands that the freed thralls could bring to his lands.
Though some other lords had made noises about how I was favouring some lords more than others. I had simply given them the reason that I was favouring the lords from the lands around Harrenhal that had seen most of the damage from Harren's demands.
That had been enough to shut them up or quietened down their complaints.
I'm sure some of them weren't particularly happy about it but having the likes of the Harroways on side I thought more than made up for it in a loss in influence amongst the furthest of the lords.
Harrenhal though, the castle itself, I was able to bring underneath the purview of House Tully. The castle was going to be the headquarters of the new central army of the riverlands. Its central location more than made that obvious.
"I will be leaving you in charge then ser." I said to Ser Patrek as servants all around me moved to pack things up. My own time camping in the shadows of Harrenhal was coming to an end and it was time for me to go back to Riverrun and actually get a start on governing properly.
Ser Patrek was a towering bull of man as he stood tall over me and many others. He had hard features but as he looked down at me, his features softened up some and something resembling pride could be seen. "The castle is in good hands. You will have nothing to worry about, your grace." He had eagerly jumped to the idea of addressing me by my new title easier than some of the veteran Tully retinue.
"With you in charge? I wouldn't expect anything else." I smiled up at the man that had first taught young Ed how to wield a sword properly. "How goes the recruitment? I wouldn't want to leave you in that large castle alone. I suspect it would get a little lonely in there."
He made a sound as he grunted but he still remained approachable as he glanced back at the foreboding castle in all of its unfinished glory. "We've gathered up near two thousand men that are interested in the company you are building, your grace. Just as you asked, many of them are young boys, boys who have got a little taste of war that has not yet been sated."
Over the past few days that we had been here, ever since I got the other lords to agree to my demand of a central armed force to protect the riverlands from any future predations, I had Ser Patrek along with several other household knights of mine go around recruit people for the Army of the Trident...River Guard? Royal Army?
…
Well, him and a couple others had been going around recruiting people for the armed force of men-at-arms that I was building and he was finally giving me a sit-rep on how things were going. And things seemed to be going well despite the fact that I was making a pointed effort to ignore how I was going to pay for these armed men until later.
And I hadn't even got to the fact that I didn't know what their thing was going to be. Pikes? All I knew about pikes was the fact that they were long and pointy and the Swiss had used those two facts to go around kicking ass in Europe and making it their bitch for like two centuries or something.
Okay, I'm just going to leave that train of thought alone for the moment until something more definite comes to mind.
I noticed the slight curling of the lip at the edges. That got me to worry a little. Was something wrong? "What is it?"
"Nothing your grace," he said shaking his head before he sighed. "It's just it won't be easy. Many of these boys are the ones who had worked building Harrenhal. If they had been fed properly, they would be well muscled, but they weren't. We turned away many of them, but still, some of them are nothing more than sticks and bones. A gentle breeze would be enough to knock them over."
That was a bit of an exaggeration.
I hoped to dear god that was nothing more than a bit of exaggeration on his part, either wise this was going to be more difficult than I thought.
"I'm sure you would be able to handle it." I had the utmost confidence in the man. Considering the effectiveness of the Tully castle guard and their knights, he had to have been good at his job of teaching men how to fight and kill. "It's going to be costly though."
I was thinking of the costs despite my valiant efforts to not think about the costs.
"I did not think it would be cheap." Was he being a smartass? I think he was being a smartass and he certainly knew that he was being a smartass.
"It doesn't help that you insist on armouring all these men in plate and steel." My little brother who seemed to have been eavesdropping said as he approached us on horseback whilst at the same time, holding the reigns for Shadowfax. "Boiled leather or chain is a much cheaper alternative to what you are offering, brother."
I grinned up at him as he neared. "I would like for them to be armoured in something else other than the rags that they have turned up in." It also did something for morale as well, of that I am sure. I'd be pretty chuffed if I saw the tatters my opponent was wearing compared to the shiny shit that could stop arrows and swords from disembowelling me. "And I think I've thought of a way to improve and increase our steel production to the form that it will more than likely drive down the cost of steel."
Ser Patrek blinked at me in surprise. "Truly?" He enquired, voice almost disbelieving by the sounds of it.
I wouldn't blame him really. What I was saying did sound almost too good to be true.
Axel though, looked a little less disbelieving as he offered me the reigns to my destrier which I took. "A bold claim to make brother. Hopefully, you can live up to it considering the current state of much of the realm's finances."
The funny thing about British schools is that they tended to talk a load of shit about the Victorian or Industrial era. About how the revolution came about which included all the fun bits about the machines that helped put good old Blighty top of the world for more than a century. I had been to enough 'water mills turned into some sort museum' trips to know that water mills were useful for a lot of things.
One of these things being the production of steel. The water wheels would harness the power of the river to drive hammers harder than any human hand could, pump bellows harder than, once again, any human could. And that wasn't taking into account the notion of sawmills, papermills, textile mills... the possibilities were endless.
The local resident engineer of Riverrun, Blake I think his name was, was going to be really busy in the coming days.
The idea of using the power of water to help with production wasn't exactly a foreign idea to Westeros. The memories of Edmyn's youth had been clear enough when he had accompanied his (our? This was rather confusing) father on inspections of the land and had seen gristmills that grounded grain into flour at work. It seemed as if nobody had seen this novel idea and expanded on it to other fields.
The Riverlands had rivers. A lot of rivers. Might as well make use of them.
Watermills were going to be at the heart of my slowly forming plan to try and build up something resembling a national economy for the Riverlands. I needed an economy that would be able to give me the gold I would need to pay for the army that was being built.
The last thing that I wanted was to have an army of people trained to kill not being paid. I didn't Machiavelli to tell me how stupid that was. It also wouldn't hurt to throw them the occasional bonus for a job well done during times of crises or when I'm feeling generous to make them feel wanted.
We had butted heads over this, but me and Axel had eventually come to a conclusion that House Tully would be able to pay for a small force of men-at-arms of the current numbers being said by Ser Patrek for upwards to a year and a half. That was with our own incomes that had yet to be augmented by the new incomes we would receive from the lords that had bent the knee.
Even though we had been able to get ourselves our hands on some of the more precious looking things within Harrenhal before everyone scrambled for everything shiny looking, from the golden, crystal encrusted chandeliers to the silver cutlery and along with other wagons full of things I had yet to read the full inventory over, it still wasn't enough.
I cursed Harren for not hoarding his family's treasure in one big pile and for spending it instead on that stupid castle.
After that year and a half, I was hoping that gold would be making its way into our treasury from the taxes levied on the lords and the scutage payments. I wonder, would it now be our treasury or the realm's treasury?
Definitely the realm and definitely something I should see to that is noted by the clerks who collected the taxes and put them into the treasury at Riverrun.
"I know little brother," I climbed onto Shadowfax, the destrier accommodating to me quite easily. "but just like when we set out to face Harren, have some faith in me."
"I do." My little brother replied quickly, almost sounding hurt at my words. I held back the frown of confusion. I doubted my words cut that deep. Hells, I didn't even mean for them to cut in the first place. "It's just, I think you are moving too fast. I know you might have cause for such urgency but it would not hurt to slow down a little before you overstretch yourself."
I was working too fast? Really? I was of the mind that I wasn't working fast enough.
Too many things were on my mind for the future was dark and for the most part, unknown to me. I could only work quickly to secure my footing until the dragons arrived so that I could be in the safe space that I knew therefore could work within, not this current unknown.
"I'll take your words into mind little brother, believe me, working only to die of fatigue is something that I have no plan on doing anytime soon." I gave him a reassuring smile and squeeze of the shoulders before I turned back to Ser Patrek. "Well, we'll be going then ser. May fortune be with you."
"And you, your grace. Your parents would be proud of seeing the two men that you have all grown to become." His features softened up even more as he smiled. "I could not envisage finer hands for the Riverlands to be in."
I snorted. "I wish you could have flattered me like that in the training yard."
"Of that brother, we are of the same mind." Axel added with amusement.
The older man gave a hearty bullish snort of the nose. "Best enjoy this then lads, it's the best you are getting out of me for a good while yet."
We grinned at the knight before we made our partings and joined the convoy of Tully levies and knights that was beginning to make its way back to the west.
To Riverrun.
To home.
Riverrun
The... I was going to call it inconsistency of the people of Westeros annoyed me very much sometimes.
For some strange reason, they were able to build absolutely ludicrous monuments like Harrenhal, the Hightower, Casterly Rock and the Eyrie. Buildings I should say would be considered downright ridiculous considering the technology levels but somehow still buildable to them... yet... yet, the notion of paved roads or anything resembling a proper road that wasn't a well-trodden upon dirt track was beyond me.
How was that even possible?
It was decided, the first chance I got, the first thing that was going to be on my to do list was to build something resembling proper roads. Considering I was going to have thousands of men being idle and doing nothing until some sort of conflict flared up, then all the better.
The roads would do wonders for speed and ease of travel.
My raw arse did not at all agree with some of the things that passed for 'roads' around here.
The steward, Kevan Paege and the resident maester or grand maester now that I was king, were waiting for us in the courtyard along with probably the entirety of the Riverrun household and lordly court when we entered through the gates of Riverrun. Seeing Kevan there, trying his best to look dignified nearly brought a shit eating grin onto my face.
This after all, was the guy who had been very pessimistic and wildly in disagreement about the chances of our little rebellion working. So, I didn't let the shit eating grin come onto my face. He probably felt bad enough as it was.
Jaime, as usual, was remarkably placid and difficult to tell what the hell he was thinking inside that head of his.
At our appearance, everyone led by Kevan dropped to one knee. "Your grace, welcome back to Riverrun." The steward said loudly.
I removed myself from my horse and walked towards the steward and rose him back up to his feet. "No need for the knee dropping everyone," I said as I looked past him to the rest of the court as I bid them back to their feet. "A change in title does not change who I am. As far as every one of you is concerned, I'm still the same old Edmyn!"
That brought looks of approval from around the court. I was figuring that many of them would think that the jump from a mere lord, though a great lord in terms of influence in the Trident would have somehow changed me for the worse.
You know, absolute power and all that pizzazz.
The second son of Riverrun proceeded to prove my point as he spoke up after me. "What he says is true. My brother might now be king, but he is still very much the same Edmyn who stole sweets from the pantry when he was a boy."
Edmyn stole sweets? Seemed like there was a bit of a mischievous bent to him. Either that, or he had a sweet tooth that had been lost somewhere in the mess that made my sudden appearance in his body and mind.
The usual courtesies were made before everyone was dismissed to go back to their duties. I made sure that a runner had been sent to notify the overseer of the wheel tower to know that I will have need of him as soon as possible and to find me in the solar were Kevan and Jaime had been brought along with me and Axel.
Seeing Kevan though made it all the more difficult to rub in the fact that my little opportunism brought upon House Tully a remarkable amount of rewards but I held it in. No-one liked that sort of guy, even if I was that sort of guy on the worst of days.
Jaime cleared his throat when we entered the solar. "Your grace, there is a matter that I wish to speak with you on. It petains to the teaching of the children."
It was difficult to tell with Jaime but I was of the mind that either he didn't like me or he had no opinion of me. If he didn't have any opinion of me, that was good, not the best, but it was better than him not liking me. If he didn't like me, it was sort of easy to tell why.
I had given the man more work than he would have probably liked to do in his life the first that I got. The extra work that I had given him being the job of teaching the castle brats that ran around Riverrun how to read and write during my first month in this new world and life of mine.
He might not have liked that, especially considering that the students included young girls or girls in general. I do remember his face souring just a little bit before rebounding back to placid at the mention of the fairer sex being included in his lessons.
Jaime probably didn't like it, but he was bound to serve, so fuck him in that regard.
"Hm, what is it?" I nearly jumped into my seat that was infinitely more comfortable than the saddle on the things that were called roads. I bid the others to find themselves a seat. "Is there a problem?"
"Yes." The fair haired maester replied as he took his seat. "Some of the children are learning their letters and numbers faster than others. This has proven to be quite the problem in their overall education."
So the kids were developing at different rates? Sounded like an easy enough problem to solve. Seemed like the British honoured institution of sets was about to be introduced to Westeros. "Easy enough to solve. Just separate the students who are of the same level of development and skill into the same groups."
He probably didn't mean to or maybe I was reading into it a little too much but the look he gave me sort of reminded me of the sort of look someone gave another when what they said seemed to be a particular level of stupid. I don't think I had said anything stupid enough to warrant such a thing.
If the maester wore glasses, he would be pushing them up the bridge of his nose right about now. "I have done that, your grace. The problem is, with the number of children that I am teaching along with my original duties of maester, I can't effectively teach them without wearing them out."
It was at this point that the steward cut in. "He needs help, your grace. The maester is a very capable man, but there is only so much a single man can do."
Now that I thought about it, how many children did I leave in his instruction? It was probably a fair few.
"My bad," I admitted the fault sheepishly. It was easy enough to admit when you are wrong. It also happened to make people feel good about themselves. "I should have noticed this earlier. So, what do you need? How can I help? More maesters?"
The grey sheep shook his head. "Contrary to popular belief, your grace. Us maesters are not widespread as it is commonly believed. The Citadel might boast thousands upon thousands of acolytes and students but only a small amount of those thousands go on to forge their chain."
That sounded about right.
I had always had something of an iffy thought when it came to the maesters and their examination standards. It was rare enough back home to come across someone with more than a couple degrees or advanced degrees in a particular subject, but at the rate the maesters boasted off?
Something told me that individual maesters weren't as knowledgeable at they boasted to be. I suspect little things like law, medicine, finance and economics were emphasized compared to the other subjects. After all, someone needed to run the lord's fief whilst the lord themselves whored himself into a stupor and hunted himself to death.
Jaime took my silence whilst I was in thought to continue. "In other words, unless completely necessary, a single maester is more than enough for one house and requesting more depends on some extraordinary circumstances."
I wonder if gold was one of those extraordinary circumstances? Most fanfics I read that involved maesters always showed the Lannister maester having an entire army of acolytes to help him carry out his duties. Then again, those were fanfics and not actual canon, but I figured the conversation was going in this direction.
"And the teaching of urchins and peasants, your grace, is not an extraordinary circumstance in the eyes of the Citadel." Kevan finished for the maester.
"What a surprise." I deadpanned before I started wrapping my knuckles onto the dark oaken desk of the Lord of Riverrun. "So, what do I need to do here? Hire teachers from across the narrow sea?" The faces inside the solar all looked like they had been struck by something. "What? What is it? What's the matter?"
It was Axel who had been listening quietly who spoke up first. "Brother, we should be seeing to keeping our costs low at the moment considering the army you are building." At the mention of army building, Jaime just raised a single eyebrow upwards and Kevan looked between me and Axel.
"...Army?" he asked slowly. "What army?"
"The one that we are building. Don't worry about it, it's for a good reason and I was going to tell you all about it the first that I got." I turned back to Axel. "So, no hiring of teachers from across the narrow sea?"
The auburn haired lordling or prince now gave a single firm nod. "Not unless you want to use up coin faster than we are going to be using in the future."
"Let alone the notion of entrusting the teaching of fine Andal youths to eastern barbarians."
The racism from Jaime sort of took me by surprise. I had most certainly not been expecting that sort of outburst from the learned man. I wouldn't exactly call some of the Essosi barbarians. Wasn't Volantis bigger than any city in Westeros?
I'm pretty sure the Free Cities were at the very least early Renaissance in terms of culture. That had been the general consensus among the world wide web.
"So, what do you suggest we do then?" I asked as I leaned into the back of my seat, annoyed by all this.
I was being told of problems with nowhere near enough suggestions on how to fix them.
Jaime linked his arms together, hidden in the loose sleeves of the grey robe that he wore as his chain clinked with the slight movement. "Maesters may be few in number but so, for acolytes. Some acolytes have been at the Citadel for a few years, since they were children and others for decades, having more knowledge in specific subjects more so than maesters themselves."
"So, what you are telling me we should get ourselves some acolytes?"
He nodded once. "That is exactly what I'm saying."
I smiled as I thought of rubbing my non-existent beard. "So how much is this going to cost me?"
At the mention of costs, Axel seemed halfway into having some sort of aneurysm.
"That depends on the Citadel and the number of acolytes requested, your grace."
I held back the sigh that I could feel trying to escape from the back of my throat. "Enquire for the cost of two acolytes well versed in a couple of subjects. That should about do it." With that done, I turned towards the steward of the castle. "I need a census, ser."
My request took him by surprise but Kevan was more than enough to quickly regain his wits about him in a quick and expedient manner. "Of the Riverrun domain or the entirety of your kingdom?"
"Of the Riverrun domains." I said, thinking of how I didn't want to deal with the other lords just yet. "I wish to know how many mouths; pairs of hands and feet are in our lands. The number of cattle, goats, sheep, everything of note. Everything."
I wanted to get a complete lay of the land. Not the entire kingdom, but my land. I'll get to getting my own version of the Domesday Book later on, but for now, this would do.
"It would take some time to set up, but it shall be done, my lord."
"Good," I nodded once before an apologetic smile came onto my lips. "Unfortunately, I shall be relying on you and Jaime for the coming future."
"My now royal brother means to bring some changes to the notion of governance." Said Axel with mild amusement. "His ideas have merit, but we best agreed that it would be better to have them looked at by men of noted experience and knowledge in governance. The Lord Steward of Riverrun and its maester where the ones that came quickly to mind."
Kevan looked between the two of us, smiling as he did so. "You honour us, Edmyn, Axel."
Jaime looked rather interested, well as interested as his usual expression would allow. "What are these ideas of yours?" Say what you will about the man, but at the very least, he was always ready and willing to learn something new.
So, without further I do, I started throwing my ideas at them. About changing the whole notion of medieval government management. Conventional wisdom said that everything was run as if the entirety of a kingdom was nothing more than the extended fief of a house.
I suspect that I wouldn't see too much of a change in the running of the household apart from some extra people here and there when the centre of government was switched to Riverrun. What i was suggesting was that the running of government and that of the household be split into separate functions, running independent of the other.
The ideas were all quite vague, that I would admit and still needed work on, but I was giving the men in front of me an idea of what I wanted to achieve and do. Of what I wanted them to work-out between the two of them and their own knowledge of government.
Unsurprisingly, it was the maester who took to the whole thing with a better understanding than Kevan but who tried nonetheless.
Things weren't going to be easy, but at the very least, I was going to try.
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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TryingToBeKuw
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TryingToBeKuw
I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 24, 2018
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#191
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Riverrun
Blake Rivers was an intelligent looking guy, a bit scrawny, but it was easy to tell that he was packing some lean muscles underneath his clothes. Muscles that he more than likely built up whilst working in the Wheel Tower of Riverrun. Unsurprisingly by the way of his name, he happened to be the bastard son of a Tully household knight and some poor serving woman the knight probably seduced or something else.
The man's knightly father had packed him off to the Citadel to hide the shame from his wife or maybe his wife forced him to do so, but Blake never actually finished forging his chain. Going only as far to forge a couple of links in his chain, that of engineering and mathematics.
I supposed such a background was needed to run the Wheel Tower. That was probably some of the most advanced engineering at work in Westeros in that tower.
Blake was rubbing at the stubble of his chin as he stood in front of me. "I think it's doable, my lord." He blinked for a moment as he realised his hiccup. "I mean, your grace. Apologies for that, old habits seem bereft of leaving me so quickly."
I waved the slip of the tongue away with a simple wave of the hand. "It's fine. I can honestly tell you that I'm not used to the title myself yet, so I can't really blame you, especially since you have known me running around the wheel tower since I was a small lad." We shared a good-natured laugh at the memories of young Edmyn being too inquisitive by half. Being humble could go a long way as long as I knew when to brag. "So, the forges and smithies?"
"I don't think something like this has ever been done before. The use of the water much like gristmills..." he shook his head in bemused disbelief. "It sounds all so simple that it's hard to believe that nobody had ever thought of it all before. I'll need to work with Mikken for some of the more technical details, but we should probably have something for you to inspect in good time." He paused for a moment. "Provided we have the materials, sire."
"You'll have the materials." I said, nodding my head. "And what of the other thing?"
"The printing press?" Blake Rivers mouthed the words as if he was tasting them. "That should be easy enough to build. I was thinking of converting a wine press for the device but which one would you like first?"
"The forges," I answered without missing a single beat. Those could very well be the difference between life and death for me. I think the Bessemer process it was called involved air and iron. I wasn't a blacksmith and this was going to involve some trial and error, but I definitely had something here. "I want the steel mills first. The rest can wait for now."
After the prototype steel mill had proven its worth, I would then move on to the other king of watermills. Though difficult, I planned on industrializing the Riverlands somewhat. Never thought the time that Britain's hard-on for all things Industrial Era would come this handy. Mr Cochrae must be proud of himself right about now if he knew I was thinking well of all his lessons.
The overseer of the wheel tower soon made his parting to go out and seek the castle blacksmith and get a start on the project that I had given him. Watching him leave, I couldn't help but wonder if I should have given him instructions to start on the printing press first.
Though I had yet to interact with them, the Starry Sept being rather far away, I knew that during this time, the Faith held a lot of power within its hands. Having something like a printing press might very well save me some trouble and buy me a lot of influence amongst their number with the ability to print their equivalent of the Bible hundreds of times faster than they could with their scribes.
Oh well, the decision was already made and I probably still had time and I wanted the steel mills to be the ones up and running first.
I never liked long days.
Unfortunately, it seemed in this new life of mine, all my days were long. Axel had somehow got it into his head that I was actually enthusiastic about this whole king thing. I don't actually know how that idea got into his head, but it was in his head and thus he had made it so that I was woken up some hours before dawn by the servants.
It was infuriating.
I was a heavy sleeper. I liked my sleep, but I was too nice to actually tell people to fuck off and let me enjoy my sleep. Even though I knew I went to bed earlier now than I ever did in my first life.
When there is no Xbox, no internet, you find yourself with little things to do than read and sleeping.
It was ridiculous at first simply because I had nothing better to do at first. Everyone was still busy sorting out the fact that the centre of government in the lands had shifted from Harrenhal to Riverrun, but it was happening. Recently, I've now heard to deal with petitions on a regular basis.
I genuinely think I hated having to deal with petitions since it involved me listening to someone complain about one thing or another that I really could not find myself caring about but had to pretend that I actually did. I was trying to be better than Harren and the Hoares and the fact that I hadn't put any heads on spikes for the sheer annoyance that I felt was already making me a better king than any of them.
Dealing with petitions to me was the worst out of it all really. It required for me to have an imaginative mind of solving the various issues that were brought to my attention.
I felt more at home in sorting out policies that would help with the development of the Trident really and for this, I had to thank the internet. For this, I had to thank some blogs about the Seven Kingdoms that I had read about back in the day. I could remember some of the details of some of the blogs quite well, mostly because they were colourful and had pretty little pictures, whilst others were more difficult to remember due to the sheer information overload and the fact that it was late night scrolling instead of deep morning reading.
I already had an idea of one of the development plan in my head, something that I couldn't really do anything about until I had coin flowing into the royal treasury but one way or another, I was going to have a canal that connected the Blue Fork to Ironman's Bay.
That sort of canal was more doable than some of the canals that I read about on the internet. The neck? Really? I wasn't even going to try and touch that with a hundred-foot-long pole.
The canal would more than likely build up strong relations between House Tully and Mallister more so than ever. I did plan on making sure House Mallister was bound to House Tully for the foreseeable future, maybe make them the number two house of the Riverlands until another counterweight to their influence could be found.
Actually, scratch that, a counter-influence had already been found, House Mooton.
"If you planned on marrying a Mooton girl, you could have said something before you sent their lord father across the narrow sea." Said Lyam in amusement. My cousin was now a rather frequent guest of Riverrun, dropping in occasionally unannounced.
Was he angling for some sort of position at court? Probably. He didn't need to worry too much about it, I already had plans for him.
"I didn't have plans on marrying a Mooton girl," since Lord Mooton was in Braavos by now, the head of House Mooton that I found myself making moves on was his lady wife since his son and heir, Bryndon happened to only be a boy of ten years old and thus not really someone who should be handling this sort of stuff. "it was Axel's idea in truth." I finished as I went through the inventory of all the shinies that we had taken from Harrenhal. Even now, Ser Patrek occasionally sent a convoy to Riverrun with more shinies still.
I'm sure I wasn't the only lord getting a regular shipment of shinies from Riverrun, but I was probably, definitely the only one willing to melt all the shinies into something like coin that can be used for the betterment of the realm instead of the house.
My cousin raised an eyebrow as he studied the private study of his new king. "What was your original idea, marry some foreign princess?" He asked jokingly. I didn't reply to his question and he floundered where he stood, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Very emotive, my cousin. "You honestly thought about marrying a foreign princess?"
I raised a sheaf of parchment up to hide as much of my face as possible. I didn't need Lyam also telling me how stupid of an idea that was. "I thought it would be an excellent way to secure one of our many endless unprotected borders. Might as well swim up as many lakes and into as many waters as possible."
If Lyam was going to say something bad about that particular idea of mine, he paused, thought about it before moving his head in the manner one would do when they have just heard a slightly bad but not really all that bad idea. "Not the most thought out idea, I will admit, but the intention behind it would be a honourable and worthy one."
Lyam wasn't a lickspittle exactly. He would tell you if you were about to do something stupid, but he would do so in the nicest way possible without wanting to hurt your feelings. It still continued to genuinely surprise me that such a decent human being existed in Westeros.
I mean, Garlan Tyrell was just a genetic oddity that was nothing more than a quirk of nature.
"Well, at least your words are less stinging than those of Axel." I narrowed my eyes slightly at the description of one of the items that had been inventoried and was now stored in the treasury. The description was simple enough but something about it being dark and twisted with sharp edges attracted my attention.
There was just something about it that just pulled my attention. I made a note to go check it out first chance I got, so I took out a piece of charcoal and underlined that part of the inventory and put the parchment to the side and moved onto the next one.
"Axel means well," said Lyam, completely unaware of the lapse in attention I had at his presence for the few moments that my work had my attention. "I wouldn't take all of his mean words to heart. He wishes as much as me for you to succeed without unnecessary endangering yourself."
Like I said, total nice guy.
I stopped for a moment. Lyam was a nice guy, diplomatic and not at all stupid. Edmyn's memories of his squiring at Seagard did point out that he had been the more studious of the two both in terms of martial and scholarly skill.
He would be the right kind of person I need in the coming future.
"Coz," I lowered the current parchment of paper down as I looked at him, attracting his attention.
My coz had found interest in a book and was idly going through its papers. "Hm?"
"There's an endeavour I wish to carry out in the future, it's still early days, but I can think of no better than you to carry it out." It was still early days, the correspondence between the two of us nothing more than feeling the other out, but it seemed promising.
The heir to Seagard's attention was turned away from the book in his hands to me. I was sure that eyebrow was regularly seen to by how well it was looked after went up his brow in interest. "An endeavour? Sounds about interesting. If it I can offer my help in any way, I am here to serve, coz."
He didn't even ask about what kind of endeavour it was? Seriously Lyam, how did you come about?
"Nothing serious really," I found myself saying. I didn't need to tell him since he didn't enquire about it, but the interest was plain on his face. "just a diplomatic envoy much like that of Lord Mooton to Braavos."
He cocked his head to the side in delicate confusion. "I thought that was to acquire funds from the Iron Bank."
"Mostly." I confirmed with a nod of the head. "But to also open relations between the Sealord and the merchants of Braavos. To also acquire some men of talent as well. I have plans, coz. I mean to see it that our kingdom survives for far longer than previous iterations."
Man, I said a lot.
He flashed me a thousand-watt smile that was near blinding. "Well, if you have need of me coz, all you need to do is ask."
Lyam, you were a saint and if the last thing that I could do for you was get you recognised as one, I was definitely going to do that.
Wait, were saints even a thing in the Faith of the Seven? Something to find out about later.
The door to the study swung open with quite a hurry that attracted both mine and Lyam's attention.
You see, I was quite used to the idea of people barging into my room without knocking. I had grown up in a family were my parents and siblings didn't seem to have anything like the concept of personal space in their minds.
I actually had to get used to people knocking on my door as of late for every time someone knocked on my door, I stopped whatever I was doing to call them inside, instead of what people did on the tv shows of answering whilst still going about their work.
It was slow progress, but it was happening.
So, the fact that someone would just barge in without even knocking (even the second highest ranking member of the Tully household, Axel, knocked) meant it was something serious.
Something so serious to knock etiquette and protocol right outside the window.
Hundreds of worst case scenarios ran through my head. Who was invading? Was it Argillac? The Gardeners? The Lannisters? The Arryns? The Starks? The ironborn? The Martells... wait, the Martells can't invade me. They are only house that can't invade me, too much Reach and Stormlands in the way.
So, what was the danger?
"Kevan," I began, rising up from my seat wondering who it was that had come to try and separate my head from my neck. "what is it? What's wrong?"
The lord steward had to take a moment to get himself together before he locked eyes on me. "Riders have been spotted riding towards the castle."
"Which house?" Lyam asked, having put the book back into the bookshelf. "And why the worry?"
The head of House Paege took a moment to spare Lyam a look. "Not a house, ser. An organisation." His eyes turned away from Lyam and back to me. "Perhaps one of the most influential in Westeros. The Faith comes, your grace. Along with the chivalry of the Most Puissant Order of the Warrior's Sons."
Oh, for fuck sake.
"About time." I dropped back into my seat as calmly as possible despite the sheer fact that I was just about ready to shit bricks. My rather subdued reaction to the arrival of the Faith and their zealots seemed to have caught the aged steward by surpsie. "If you don't mind Kevan, would you kindly have the staff see to preparations for our guests?"
Instead of servants, I had gone about calling the castle servants staff. I just felt it sounded better than servants that implied them to be something less.
To his credit, Kevan bowed respectfully before quickly leaving to see to it that my commands were followed. That left me and Lyam alone once more.
"Well, I suppose I should go greet my new guest then." I said as I rose up from my seat and began to make my way to the courtyard.
All the while, I just wanted to know how they were able to get so far into the Riverlands without anybody knowing until now? Nobody seriously thought of sending me a raven or something to warn me about this shit?
Heads were definitely (not) going to roll for this bullshit.
The visitors that were definitely not wanted poured through the gates in all their chivalric finery. I swore that at some point, I needed to have someone invent shades due to the fact that the polished steel of their armour seemed just about ready to deflect all the light humanely possible and blind some poor fucker or another.
That poor fucker being me.
I have just gotten used to enjoying twenty/twenty vision again and I did not plan on losing it to some overzealously shined and spitted upon armour.
They carried no personal standard only the Seven-pointed, rainbow coloured star of the Faith on the largest and grandest of banners and the rainbow coloured sword on black field of the knightly order the knights belonged too.
They were seriously wearing rainbow coloured cloaks. I mean, the only time I have seen people were rainbow coloured cloaks was during certain kinds of parades, but I wasn't judging. I took part in those parades myself and by my humble opinion, I happened to look damned good in such a cloak.
The first knights to enter the courtyard split themselves into two as one half went to the right and the other to the left to allow the entrance of probably one of the most ostentatious and gaudy looking carriages that I have ever had the pleasure of seeing enter the courtyard. The carriage was a riot of colours, the rainbow once more being prominent mixed with gold of six figurines designed to attract attention and a seventh designed to not attract attention by how far back it was placed in comparison to the other six.
It wasn't just me questioning the carriage by the looks of it. My court that included my maester, steward, Axel and Lyam eyed the carriage for a moment, trying much like me, to understand how nobody thought the thing looked ugly. They didn't comment on it, though I could feel that words were going to be said about it in private.
"I count perhaps a dozen Warrior's Sons." Axel whispered to me, his head ever so slightly leaning in my direction. "Not much of a party for the High Septon."
"No." I agreed. "No, it isn't."
So that meant it wasn't the High Septon who had travelled all this way from Oldtown to visit little old me. Or maybe it was and this was just his way of travelling incognito.
I paused for a moment, looked at the wheelhouse, and quickly threw that assumption straight out of the window before giving it any root within the confines of my mind.
This wasn't the High Septon. Nah, this was probably someone higher up in the clergy.
A Most Devout probably.
I was correct in my assumption when a weathered old man stepped out of the wheelhouse with the help of a septon and a septa. Dressed in cloth-of-silver vestment that clung to his body with a crystal coronal atop his head, I figured the man a Most Devout compared to the rather plainly dressed normally clergy that had helped him out of the wheelhouse.
The septa passed the aged man a, I couldn't believe this, a crystal walking rod that reflected the light into all seven of its constituent colours. A crystal fucking rod. Did the Faith really not understand the meaning of humility or trying to be humble at all?
Or was being loud something that was engrained into the higher echelons of the probably corrupt organisation?
The Most Devout made his way towards us, his crystal rod making a distinct sound as it hit the paved stone of the courtyard, accompanied by his two helpers. He stopped before me, forcing me to look down to look at his eyes. "Ah, your grace, it is finally a pleasure to meet the young king that brought the heathens low." By now, his knightly retinue had removed themselves from their horses and had formed up.
I was somewhat offended that they felt that the safety of probably someone who was far more powerful than me was at threat inside my own castle. I wasn't that stupid.
"It's a pleasure to meet you too...?" I trailed off for a name.
"The Most Devout Willis." Said the man of the Faith, holding out a hand, palm faced down but the back of the hand faced up.
I think I was meant to kiss it.
If he wanted me to hesitate before doing the act, he was woefully mistaken. I didn't drop to a knee, but I did take the withered and veiny hand into my own, bent down as etiquette would allow and kiss the back of the hand.
If the Most Devout had been surprised at the speed of my acquisition to the sudden power play, he most certainly didn't show it.
Standing back up straight, I flashed the man of the Faith a giga-watt smile. "Welcome to Riverrun, your excellency. I hope your stay here is most welcome."
A quick glance at the party that the aged septon had brought with him showed looks of approval at the gesture that had just happened, though it was difficult to tell with the knights due to the fact that the helmets they wore covered their faces. With that little theatrics over and done with, I invited the Most Devout into my castle and led him towards my kingly solar.
Axel and Lyam had given me looks if they wanted them to join me in the meeting with the Most Devout, but a quick look from me and a silent conversation later, it was decided to let me handle this. I was sure Axel was busy entertaining or questioning the septon and septa that had come with the Most Devout anyway.
Once again, I had decided to go for my aged old and proven strategy off promptly displacing people's notions about me by doing things they wouldn't expect a lord or very much a king to do.
I went towards the decanter at the side. "Would you like a drink, your excellency?"
The old man stopped pretending as if my solar interested him as he shook his head. "No, no, but thank you for the offer, your grace." His reaction to my offer was not what I had been expecting. This was going to be a tough one.
Although I felt like I was going to need a drink for this entire meeting, I felt that it would give the wrong impression. So, I left the decanter and empty goblets at the side and took my seat at the other side of the desk.
If he wanted me to start the conversation, well, he could just go bugger himself.
I might not be able to do awkward silences well, but i certainly knew how to sit through them for long periods of time just to unnerve people I did not like. And although it was too early to say I didn't like this man, the gaudy thing he called a wheelhouse was more than enough to not give him any points in his favour.
So... I just smiled at him. A small smile, nothing too big or alarming, but one that would throw anybody on a loop just because it didn't tell what exactly was going on in this frantically over-heating head of mine.
It seemed to work as Willis broke the silence. I liked to think it was because I had far more time left in this world than him by the looks of things. "I must say," he began, giving me a good old grandfatherly smile. "many of the faithful across the kingdoms had hoped for one day for Harren and his ilk to be stroke down from the riverlands. I have it it good faith that His Most Holy had been hard at work to bring about the freedom of your people from the ironborn and their heathen ways."
Heathen ways that had been adopted somewhat by some of the people that now called me king. There were particular reasons why Viking funerals were now a thing in the Riverlands.
Though that little nugget of information took a backseat to the revelation that apparently, the High Septon seemed to have been planning some sort of crusade or Westerosi equivalent on the ironborn. Funny thing is, I don't think the World of Ice and Fire every mentioned anything like that ever happening in Westerosi history, even before the Faith of the Seven became the dominant religion.
"It's nice to know that the plight of us riverlanders was never far away from the mind of His Most Holy." Came the placid reply from me, all the whilst, making the right sounds.
The Most Devout bobbed his head up and down as he continued his speaking, seemingly ignoring the sounds that I had made about my entire thought on this, which to him, probably sounded like I was onboard whatever the Faith had in store. "The amount of joy we felt at learning that a child of the gods themselves had risen up in rebellion against Harren was something to be truly behold. His Most Holy was most excited about this and dispatched me immediately when he heard of your successes. As a representative of the gods themselves in our world, he speaks for and acts for the Seven-who-are-One. Of course, His Most Holy is still only a man. One man and that is why, we of the Faith exist. We are not bound by the borders set by mortal kings, lords or crowns. Wherever the pious need salvation, guidance or wisdom, we shall be there." He eventually finished his little tirade, looking directly at me.
I was no super politician or anything like that, but it was easy enough to tell where that little tirade of his meant to convey to me. The Faith were powerful and that I should tread carefully to not upset them or fuck with them or something.
Okay, got it.
Though I was calling bullshit at the speed of dispatch he was talking about. It's been nearly two months and I'm sure news spread faster than what he was saying. This sort of news had no problem travelling faster than ravens could fly.
So once again, I was calling all kinds of bullshit.
I smiled jokingly at the older man as I took his words into mind. "It would make for confusing loyalties if the Faith was bound to an earthly realm instead of that of the heavens."
Willis chuckled in good nature. "A young, energetic king like yourself must truly have plans for the future of his newfound kingdom."
Yes, I actually did have plans for the future which included getting Aegon to burn Oldtown to the ground. Actually, Oldtown was a bit extreme. The Starry Sept would have to do. And the Citadel as well. Just to be extra safe and all that.
"For the moment? Well, try to rebuild the Trident from the depredations that the Hoares had forced upon us."
He gave me that grandfatherly smile of his as he spoke softly. "It's rare indeed to come across a young monarch who thinks of his people instead of glory, yet one can never have too much counsel."
Was he angling for me to take him into my court as an advisor of some kind? I wanted to say fuck that, but I really couldn't refuse considering my position at the moment and there was probably a way to use the influence of the Faith to my advantage even though I didn't trust these Hightower dick sucking assholes all that much.
"I'd be honoured to have the wisdom of a Most Devout guiding me, your excellency!" I replied with as much fake enthusiasm as possible.
That seemed to take him for a loop. "As much as I am honoured by your words, your grace, unfortunately, I am needed in the Starry Sept, though it would not be too much of a problem for Byron to stay behind."
I leaned back. "Byron?"
He tapped his crystal rod onto the floor. "The septon who helped me out of my wheelhouse. Very able lad, you would do well with him guiding you in matters of faith and relations with the other kingdoms."
"Then I would be pleased to have him." I lied though I supposed this meant that I had found myself my court religious leader? Neat. "I would admit, our own knowledge of our neighbours is rather laxing. Hopefully, his knowledge would help us prevent any tragedies and misunderstandings from happening."
He tapped that gaudy walking rod of his once more and smiled at me pleasantly. "Have faith, your grace. Not all men are ruled by greed of land or gold. Some can even be guided to the right paths with the rights words of wisdom given to them."
This was going to cost me wasn't it? Was it bad for me that I thought the cost would be worth it when it came to making sure that the other kingdoms left me the fuck alone?
The Faith had more influence than anybody in Westeros, only rivalled by those of the Citadel in the places that truly matter and considering the history of the Citadel, the maesters may as well have been an organ of the Hightowers.
Why anybody continued to trust so many important duties to an organisation whose sole patron seemed to be the Hightowers was beyond me. I simply had to know what the maesters had cooked that made everybody believe they were neutral.
Speaking of maesters, at some point, I was going to have to have a sit down with Jaime, just to see where he stood. Not all maesters could be Luwin's level of loyalty even though I wished they would be.
But the maesters were for later, for now I had the Faith to contend with. Until I could act on my own without them making a fuss, I had to tread carefully. So, I smiled at the man who had my balls in his grip. "Then I would be more than willing to hear what I can do to help."
This entire bullshit was making me more eager than I ever thought I would be about causing some kind of schism that would see a Faith of the Trident rise up, completely under the control of House Tully, because dealing with this sort of shit was ridiculous.
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
Like
ReplyReport
291
TryingToBeKuw
Mar 24, 2018
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Threadmarks Ch. 1.8
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TryingToBeKuw
TryingToBeKuw
I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 26, 2018
Add bookmark
#231
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Riverrun
I had woken up one day and just about ready to go through my itinerary for the day only to find the highborn that I had sent south to calmly convince the Blackwater lords of the new management in town riding through the gates of Riverrun like it was some sort of triumph. The only thing missing were the crowds of adoring citizens and petals being thrown everywhere along with the riches their victory had brought the empire.
Looking over the three lords and knight, I noticed none of them wore any signs that resembled battle but then again, they would have time to make themselves look pretty before coming back to their new king. How long were they gone for? It couldn't have been for more than a month at the very least.
I quashed the feelings of confusion as I put on a pretty bright smile at their appearance. "My lords, I was not expecting you so soon after your departure."
With a grin that did not look out of place on his face, Lord Goodbrook spoke for the rest of the lords. "Between the four of us, those lords did not know what hit them! We went through them all like a rampaging horde of aurochs!"
"So, things went well then?" I asked as the lords and knight dismounted themselves from their horses as stable boys ran up to them and grabbed at the reins of their horses.
Amongst their protective detail that was dismounting, I noticed that there was a couple of unfamiliar faces that did not look like knights at all and the wheelhouse at the back as well. Why would they need a wheelhouse?
None of the lords seemed at all injured and a cart would have been better for such a thing rather than a wheelhouse.
"Better than expected," Lord 'I-refused-to-say-his-first-name' Bracken pushed some hair that had grown from the last time I saw him away from his face. "we expected to fight some battles but thankfully, words prevailed over many of them. Though we had to flex our muscles here and there sometimes."
Thank the gods for that.
If it had come to swords with some of my newest lords, then a lot of attention and some of my political capital would have had to be directed to placating them so that they didn't do something stupid like try to back-stab me or something in the back. Still though, the manner of how they came to recognising my authority over them meant that I was going to have to make overtures in their direction in the future to build-up relations.
Lord Goodbrook was nodding his head to the last testament from the youngest of the lot. "Lord Rosby seemed to just about ready to make us work for it. I was itching for a good fight, but the little shit bent the knee when things were about to get to a head."
"In other words, he saw sense." Said the ploughman calmly. He paused for a moment in thought before adding some more words as an afterthought. "Eventually. The ser just seemed about ready to start climbing walls." He finished, his eyes trailing towards Ser Ethan Blackwood who just inclined his head at the accusation.
Quiet man, this Blackwood.
The Lord of Stone Hedge directed my attention towards the wheelhouses were, might as well have been a deluge of highborn, had been stepping out of the wheelhouses. I saw women. I saw men. All of them seemed to vary from the being pre-teens to just around my age.
"And those are the new hostages to ensure that the Blackwater lords behave themselves." The young lord said.
"Please Lord Bracken, call them what they are," the ploughman cut in, stroking at the beard that had grown some whilst he had been on his campaign. "Pages, squires and handmaidens all. The fact that they happen to come from recalcitrant lords happens to be nothing more than a happy coincidence."
With the way he had said those words and the look on his face, he was definitely enjoying himself. So was Lord Goodbrook as well but then again, the man either had a permanent smile or grin on his face, one or the other, so it was a bit difficult to tell with him.
The urge for said young lord to roll his eyes may as well have been intense but he held himself quite well admirably. He looked at me sincerely. "Though I am more than pleased to serve in whatever capacity I can for you, your grace, my men are tired and long to see home. If it would not begrudge you, I wish to grant them their heart's desires."
Now that I think about it, the Blackwoods, Brackens, Darrys and Goodbrooks still had men out in the field whilst everybody else had already gone back home. It would be rather cruel of me to just tell them to sit tight whilst everybody else was already seeing to their lands being made right.
"You have my thanks for all your hard work, Lord Bracken. I am sure that House Bracken is in good hands in the coming future." I glanced over to the other two lords and the House Blackwood representative. "And all of you as well. You all have my deepest gratitude for the work I requested of you."
Did Bennar Darry do nothing but tug his beard? It was a rather odd habit. "It is merely in us leal bannermen to serve in whatever capacity our king asks of us." Was he laying on the kiss-ass a little thick there? It was amazing the other lords were able to keep a straight face despite it all. "Though I fear you might be in need getting to know the various amounts of new court attendants. Of that, I am available for service, I have come to know these young ones quite well over our time together."
He who does not have a first name and the quiet knight kept their reactions passive, with the Lord of Stone Hedge being the most emotive of the two by the twitch of the eyebrow whilst Lord Goodbrook could not have rolled his eyes any harder lest he saw the front of his brain in the inside of his head.
"Thank you, my lord. That would be most appreciated." I said with a smile on my face and the lord's lips formed into a smile of their own as he inclined his head in acknowledgement. Turning my attention away from him, I turned towards the rest of the group. "Lord Bracken, please return home, see to your lands and people, mourn for as long as you wish. When the time is right, there is much I need to speak with you about."
The lord blinked the curiosity having been peaked inside his head but he nodded his head. "Understood, sire."
The near expressionless Ser Ethan merely glanced in the direction of Lord Bracken for a moment before his eyes went back to resting on me with that eternal dead fish stare of his. He might be a robot, but it was easy enough to tell that he was going to be reporting all of this back to Lord Blackwood, especially since it seemed that the Brackens were going to suddenly gain some sort of royal patronage.
Which was true, but I didn't plan on making the relations between the two houses even worse. I meant to improve them though I didn't have much hope in that department considering the thousands of years of history between the two of them.
"Ser Ethan!" I said loud enough to garner the attention of the dead fish knight that was already on me. "Your house has my thanks for the support they granted me. I also wish to speak to Lord Blackwood at a later time, but until then, please, return home and rest. You have more than done enough to deserve it."
The knight didn't speak but he bowed deeply, more so than I would suspect etiquette required of him. Perhaps that was his way of making up the fact that he had accepted the honour non-verbally?
Lord Goodbrook's expression made me take a moment to try and register the hints of annyoance I could see by the way how the lips on his smile was quite tight. Did I do something wrong? I don't think I did, so I just ploughed on. "Lord Goodbrook, thank you for everything." I knew nothing about House Goodbrook unlike what I knew about the Brackens and Blackwoods. Some of the plans that I had in mind involved the Bracken and Blackwood specialties and unfortunately, House Goodbrook had just been a footnote in history in canon. Maybe something even less. "I might have need of you in the future and I hope I can call upon you when the time comes."
His lips softened a little, but the tightness was still there. "I'll be looking forward to it, your grace."
Why did he make that out as something of a promise from me? I just said I might have need of him. And I didn't like the way the ploughman seemed to be pleased or amused about something with the glint in his eyes.
We chatted for a bit afterwards before three out of the four highborn made said their partings and made to leave, leaving me alone with the ploughman. Said ploughman only had to give a signal before some of his knights rode off and I supposed to lead their levies back to Darry lands.
Sounded about right as he led me towards the gathering of assembled noble guests of my quite barebone royal court. In fact, apart from Lyam, these 'guests' of mine were going to be pretty much my royal court until stability had been brought to the kingdom.
Axel and Lyam were out and about leading a company of knights and riders to bring peace to the things that the people on this continent called roads. From the reports that were occasionally send our way, it was going well, with most, eh, 'patriots' calmly being told to return to their farms and lands. The less noble said 'patriots' would then proceed to find themselves on the wrong end of a cavalry charge.
They tended to not end well pretty much all of the time.
The lord began to introduce me to many of the noble 'guests' that had come stay at Riverrun's court for the foreseeable future to try and 'work' for their houses 'interests'. Lord Darry had a funny way of telling me that they were there to ensure the good behaviour of their houses.
In total, the guests numbered a little less than a dozen but I noticed that most bore the names of houses that were not something to sneeze at all in any capacity. From Lymon Buckwell, Gertrude and Perwyn Stokeworth, Harrison Rosby and to something of my surprise, Willem and Alys Darklyn along with some others from less notable houses from the lands north of the Blackwater.
Watching the little lordlings and ladies be escorted to their new apartments by grooms, I couldn't help but ask. "I would have figured the Darklyns would have been the most difficult to bring onside."
The ploughman nodded to himself, smiling all the while. "Yes, we expected Lord Darklyn to put up a fight. Duskendale is the largest settlement in the Blackwater lands and House Darklyn the most influential though I hear House Buckwell is something of a rival to them in that area."
"So, why didn't he fight?"
Lord Bennar Darry could barely keep the large grin away from his face. "Some of my outriders came upon a hunting party whilst we were making our way towards Duskendale. A hunting party that included lordlings and their likes from Duskendale enjoying a nice summer's day." By then, the grin on his face couldn't be contained.
I couldn't help but shake my head at the sheer luck of it all. "Unbelievable." Was all I could muster.
Things were definitely going my way for now, but for how long? Nobody could ever have nice things in Westeros.
The surprise on the ploughman's face was more than worth it to stop him from playing with that beard of his and knock the pleased look away from his face as I patted him on the back. "Nicely done, my lord."
It took him a little to get back his bearings from the sudden and probably very alien action from a cultural stand point. "Please, it was nothing."
I was near close to giggling like a mad man as I looked over the parchment of paper in my hands once more, but if I did, I'm sure the optics of such an act would not look good for me, especially in front of someone that was probably going to be my father-in-law or goodfather in the local terminology in the future.
"My lord, there is a lot of zeros on this sum." I said as I started rolling up the parchment of paper. The number of zeros would make sense with the number of chests that had been brought in by wagon with the arrival of Lord Mooton after his time across the narrow sea. "They agreed to loan us all this coin?"
The Lord of Maidenpool nodded his head, a pleased countenance on his face. "Their initial offering was lower, but with some negotiations, the total sum of the loan was increased."
Idly toying with the rolled-up parchment of paper, I thought back to the interest rate of the loan. "The rate of interest is better than I thought it would be." On the other hand, I didn't know what their rates were or that of the other banks, so I was going into this blind. For all I knew, the interest rate could be worse than that of the other banks.
Considering the Rogarre Bank went under sometime during the reign of Viserys and the Iron Bank went from strength to strength, they must be doing something right and hopefully, means that I made the right choice.
It was at times like this I missed the internet. It would make it easier for me to do some quick research on the interest rates available to me, but I didn't actually have the time or luxury to do some detailed research in this world so I had to take a leap of faith with a bank I knew the most about in this world.
Hell, the only bank that I could trust to loan money from without trying to screw me over since I know their modus operandi and how to keep them away from trying anything shady. The things I read about Lys did not really give me any hope that they would try to not fuck with me.
And once again, the Rogarre's failed, the Iron Bank did not.
"I've read in the Seven-pointed Star about the sins of profiting from the lending of coin instead of the virtue of charity. In Essos though, they follow their own gods that allow them to do whatever they wish without much risk to their spirit."
I was somewhat surprised that Lord Mooton owned a copy of the Seven-pointed Star, that particular book was rather rare around these parts of the woods. Then again, it was House Mooton and not some random house I have just come to learn exists straight out of the blue.
"I know, but I suppose the Iron Bank has to generate a profit somehow. But as I have said before, this is better than I thought it would, so once more, you have my thanks in doing such a fantastic job."
The lord inclined his head respectfully. "It was a pleasure to serve, your grace."
"Speaking of serving, my lord, I hope to not be intruding upon you once more, but I have been meaning to ask if you would like a position in the government that I am building." The lord raised an eyebrow in interest and I took that as invitation to continue speaking. I raised up the parchment that bore the seal of the Iron Bank. "I can't rule by myself, my lord. I am not all knowing and thus would need capable man to be able to help me in the duties ruling a kingdom entails. You were able to convince the Iron Bank to lend us a generous sum of coin, better than I thought. That takes skill and ability, skill and ability that would be most useful."
For the first time since I met the lord, something akin to a small, however small, formed on his lips. "I suppose the position will involve matters of finance?"
A sheepish laugh escaped from my lips. "Am I that obvious?"
He shook his head. "No, but the praise you heaped upon my last task did give me some inclination of what this position would entail. May I have some time to think it over, sire?"
I nodded in agreement to his request before moving to a subject that was half matter of state and half personal. Somewhat not so strange for me, I fidgeted in my seat and the salmon lord just allowed me to do with nary a comment or look.
Point to him.
"I'm sure you are aware of the talks I have had with your lady wife about a potential match between me and a daughter of yours."
"Yes, Jeyne told me of it whilst I was passing through Maidenpool." A genuine warm smile came across the lord's face then and there. "I think you shall find no brighter wife than Zhoe. She's a very capable, young lady. You shall find no fault with her."
I took his words with a certain amount of salt because this being his daughter, unless he was Tywin Lannister and Jon Mooton was certainly not Tywin Lannister, he was going to be somewhat biased. Contrary to popular belief among some people in the fandom, actual good parents existed somewhat in Westeros.
Some people in the fandom sort of held Aerys, Cersei and Tywin as the epitome of parenting standards in Westeros or went the opposite with holding Ned as the flag bearer. I'd at least give it to Martin that he did show that parents and family did come in various colours and sizes.
It could be the dysfunction junction that was the Lannisters or the everybody loves each other of the Starks or somewhere in-between but they did exist.
"Yes, from what I hear, she is a very lovely lady." Hearing her parents try to sell her to me like a piece of meat was one thing, but completely different from seeing her in face. Then again, she could be an awful human being and I would still marry her either way simply because I need her family. It wouldn't be a happy marriage but it would still be a marriage. "Yes, with your permission my lord, I would very much like to have your daughter as my wife and queen."
Jon, from my recent interactions with the man from the day I met him, was not a very emotive man. Of course, he had more expressions and emotions unlike the living brick wall of Ser Ethan, but he would probably give the knight a potential run for his money.
What I'm trying to say is, for a man that mostly kept his expressions decidedly neutral, he could not have looked any prouder in this moment. "I'm honoured, your grace. Zhoe will make a more than capable queen. May your reign together be long, prosperous and fruitful."
'Don't jinx it man!' I wanted to scream but instead, I smiled. "Is that a yes then?"
He nodded once. A firm, powerful and proudful node. "Yes."
Neat.
Manfred Flood was a bookish man. The sort of trait that served him well as House Tully's treasurer. Fun fact, the man was related to the Tullys through a bastard ancestor from four generations back if he had the right of it.
This entire situation sort of reminded of that gaoler from one of the canon books going on and on about his ancestry being related to the bastards of one of the sisters to Aegon the Unworthy. If it wasn't for Axel telling me about him and our relation, I wouldn't have even noticed.
He wasn't exactly Tully looking which further brought me to theorize that the Tully genes knew when to keep themselves dominant in the main family.
"I've made note of every single thing of value that was brought from Harrenhal, your grace." The small but quick on his feet treasurer said as he led me through one of the underground storerooms that had been set aside for all the shinies from Harrenhal.
And there was quite a lot of shinies.
Entire wagons of them had been arriving on what was probably a weekly basis. Ser Patrek and the men in charge of finding shinies just kept on finding things that were of potential great wealth. I was sure that some of the men were keeping some of the things for themselves, which I didn't mind all that much since it was probably going to be a drop in the bucket for the wagons that arrived packed to the brim.
Despite being a decade away from being finished, Harren had made sure that his grand project was furnished to be fit for a king or an emperor depending on how you looked at it. He probably had everything from Myrish rugs and glassware of the finest quality, Pentosi cotton, silver and gold cutlery encrusted with jewels from Qohor.
Let's just say if it was extravagant, Harren had made sure that he probably had it.
He even had furniture made out of ivory.
And he was still a decade away from finishing his monstrosity before karma caught up with him. How was he going to pay for the rest of the furnishings after having the castle completed? The question was a stupid one I realised as the answer was so incredibly obvious.
He would have just increased the taxes on us poor rivermen some more if Aegon hadn't done his whole fire and blood spiel on him.
"By the seven, there must be a king's ransom of treasures here." I breathed out, taking into account the breadth of wealth I was seeing.
"I know, your grace, I know. I've never seen so much wealth like this in my entire life." He shook his head some. "It might be the most wealth I have ever seen, but if what is said about the Lannisters is true, this must be nothing for them."
Thinking of some of the absurd ways that fanfic writers described Casterly Rock, he probably had a point there, but it wasn't the silver, the gold, the ivory or the jewels that I had come for. It was the dark and twisted thing that I had come for and where Manfred was currently leading me to.
If it was what I thought it was, then I was probably going to do... nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I felt like I should throw it into the sea and anything else like it, if it was a glass candle, but on the other hand, a glass candle allowed you to see things from a distance, communicate from a distance. Images of Sarutobi and his viewing orb came to mind from just one of the functions of a glass candle.
Was that how Bloodraven was able to run a police state so efficiently over a continent were people where even too scared to think about treason? If so, I probably wanted some of that. Just for scrying for people who would probably enjoying decorating my back with a knife.
But the idea of seeing something no man is ever supposed to see and going mad from the revelation always dogged those voyeuristic thoughts that involved a glass candle.
"Here we are, your grace." Manfred said as he lifted up a lantern to check the ledger he was holding. His eyes squinted some as he mouthed some words before nodding his head. "This right here is where the object you desire is laid. Don't know why they brought that thing here though, obsidian isn't exactly valuable but I suppose expectation should be kept at a minimum for people who enjoy swinging their sword about."
He stepped aside to allow me access to a crate that I walked towards and crouched down to have a better look. Manfred, ever helpful held the lantern overheard to bring some light to the entire thing.
I frowned when I noticed that the of the two glass candles inside, one was nearly snapped in half and the other had stopped being a glass candle and instead, just shards of obsidian. "They are broken." I pointed out as I picked up one carefully so that I didn't cut myself knowing how the Valyrians had a thing for everything red and hot.
"They were brought in like that, your grace. I suspect care was not taken in their loading."
Poking it, that explained some the queer grooves and dents in the candle that I was holding.
"Been meaning to ask, your grace, but what are they?" Manfred held the lantern closer, probably having shifted himself for a closer look.
I flicked the base of the glass candle with a frown as I warred with myself on whether I should find someone who knows how to use them. "A great prize or trouble."
How did the Hoares even come to possess them? Like Manfred had pointed out, obsidian wasn't exactly valuable... so why would Harren have need of glass candles? I doubted he believed in anything resembling the mystical or occult.
Then I realised that they were probably brought over by Harwyn Hardhand. If I remembered correctly, the guy did spend some time in Essos, so he probably picked up a few of these things and called it a day. Was he the Hoares version of Euron minus the insanity for his interest in Valyrian occult or did he just pick them up as something of a trophy? Something to show off to the easily impressed dimwitted ironborn?
So many questions for answers I didn't really care for.
All I cared for was that hopefully, none of these could be used to summon Clthuhu or would Dagon be more appropriate considering their previous owner. Considering with the way they were all broken up, I doubted they could be used.
Placing the object gently back into the crate, I pulled myself up. "I want to be informed immediately if any more of them arrive, especially if its intact."
Manfred nodded. "Understood, your grace."
I really hoped that none of the other lords in their looting spree had actually taken an intact and functional glass candle. I really would not like to deal with something like that, at all. In the slightest.
"Good work Manfred, I like how you are handling yourself and the work that is coming your way." I clasped his shoulder and gave it a good shake. "Keep up the good work."
It was never a bad thing to make the staff feel valued no matter how small or big the task. Even if my mind was plagued with thoughts of blood magic and other nice things, that would do little to stop me from trying to build a little sense of loyalty amongst the people that worked for me.
Gotta work to make sure there are as many willing bodies as possible ready to throw themselves in front of the nearest knife heading my way for me.
Despite everything, I still very much was numero uno as far as I cared.
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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TryingToBeKuw
I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 28, 2018
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#256
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Riverrun
There was a change in the air.
It was subtle in its coming, creeping slowly as the days came by. The speed it came in was so slow that it was difficult and barely noticeable, but it was certainly coming. Jaime had been alive for long enough to see it coming with his very own eyes.
The change wasn't half as surprising as to the knowledge of who was bringing in this change, his former student and charge, now a king in his own right, Edmyn Tully.
Or whatever creature that wore Edmyn's skin like clothing.
Jaime was no fool.
He was many things, but he was most certainly no fool.
Jaime had known the young trout from the moment of his birth. He had been there, bringing him into this world from between his mother's legs. As maester, he had been there to watch him grow over the years. From his first worlds. To the first time he walked on his own two feet by himself.
He had been there for many firsts.
Therefore, it could be said that he knew Edmyn like he knew the back of his hand.
And this... Edmyn was not the Edmyn that he knew. That he had seen grow from a squalling babe to the man he had come to know.
The maester had toyed with the idea that his squiring at Seagard had been the cause of the change, but even then, the change was too... drastic. He did not know how to explain it, but he knew that even the squiring that Edmyn had taken had caused too much of a change in the boy.
Too much of a change that it did not really make all that much sense.
The creature was a good enough mummer to convince others that nothing was amiss. He said the right words, acted much like how Edmyn would do in certain situations, but it was the certain differences in his behaviour and habit that had alerted Jaime that something was just not right about Edmyn and that something was potentially wrong.
The creature bathed daily that it had become a routine amongst the servants to prepare a hot bath for him each morn that he waked. Lady Tully would have been lucky enough to convince young Edmyn to bathe more than twice a week. The creature sometimes acted far too casual for what was proper in a lord. Oh Jaime knew that Edmyn had always been an amiable lordling, but the creature seemed to take this to the point that sometimes, it seemed to forget that certain standards had to be kept.
Although something that he agreed with himself, Edmyn would not have gone out of the way to see to the health of the servants and urchins of Riverrun the way the creature had done.
The creature didn't help itself sometimes when it seemed to speak in a strange tongue that Jaime did not recognise and Jaime was fluent in all of the languages from here to the Bone Mountains. That had only further increased his suspicions that this creature was not the charge of his early days in Riverrun.
That it was something else.
When he had finally come to the undeniable conclusion and revelation that Edmyn was gone and replaced by something else, Jaime had found himself in a crisis of faith. What was he supposed to do? The vows he had taken at the Citadel and at Riverrun had sworn his undying loyalty to the lord of the castle that he carried out his duties in and the creature now wore the skin of the lord of the castle.
Which made it rather difficult to bring his suspicions to others. Who would believe him after all?
Axel?
Jaime knew the young lordling was a bright and able man, but he feared that the creature had been able to work its charms upon him considering how close they were and how the second son of Riverrun followed the creature's orders, even if he questioned them occasionally.
He had hoped that the closeness of the two brothers before Edmyn's squiring would have alerted Axel to the fact that something was marginally off about his brother but it seemed that was not to be. The learned man of the castle couldn't help but think that in the separation of young Axel from the older brother he revered from long ago had seen to it that he ignored the worrying changes that had come over his brother.
Kevan?
The steward would not be of much help. Much like himself, he was unwavering in his loyalty to Riverrun and even more so to House Tully. It was more likely that Kevan would find his suspicions to be nothing more than japes of an awful sort or worse, that of treason despite the truth of his claims.
He would have thought of the heir to Seagard but like Axel, Jaime worried the creature had worked its charms on the young heir and even now, bit by bit, it was building its power in the Riverlands.
What confused him the most about it all was why the creature would be interested in Edmyn or why it would take his place. He had heard of the Faceless Men of Braavos and they had been his first thought but it came apparent to him that if they wished to bring their god's blessing to Harren, they were faster and easier ways than taking the face of a young lordling that would more than likely have little interaction with the ironborn. It would have made far more sense to take the face of a servant or one of the guardsmen.
This was not a Faceless Man.
No, this was something else entirely. Something different.
Despite it all and the great pain he felt whenever he saw the face that once belonged to Edmyn forced into a mummery, his vows told him what to do. He had vowed to serve the lord of the castle that he was sworn to.
Edmyn Tully was the lord of the castle even if it was not the Edmyn Tully that he knew.
Thus, Jaime told himself that he betrayed no vows. He continued to follow them just like the day he had done ever since he became the maester of Riverrun. Jaime had sworn to be the maester of Riverrun and not of the Tullys.
It was Riverrun he served, and the creature held Riverrun.
"Hm, what a curious device." Said Jaime as he took notes of the creature's words about another idea of his that had come to mind. The creature had many ideas on many things. Though he loathed the idea to admit to it, he found many of these ideas interesting for he had never heard or read such things before. "It would allow us to plant seeds at a consistent depth and width. This should greatly increase the productivity of our lands if created just right."
"By a factor of eight or nine, I think." It said, scratching Edmyn's chin like it was its own. "the seeds would be planted deep enough that birds or the elements won't just carry them away and it would also allow a more efficient method of planting that won't see seeds go to waste as well." It seemed remarkably pleased with itself.
Which, he would admit, it probably had the right to. This device alone would see that farmers see a greater yield from their fields. The Riverlands had always been a fertile land, second only to that of the Reach and if this device is introduced en masse, then it wouldn't be outside the realm of possibilities that farms would yield a harvest of crops greater than that of the Reach.
The same could be said about other devices that the creature had told him off. The 'cotton gin', 'printing press' and 'spinning wheel'. The applications of these devices were unheard off and he hadn't even thought about the implications of some of his mutterings about harnessing the power of steam to power machines much like they were already designs in the works to harness the power of the rivers that dominated these lands.
No Faceless Man would go out of their way to do any of the things the creature was doing.
This creature was something else entirely.
Where did it come from? Why was it here? What did it want? Why did it take the skin of Edmyn? Oh Edmyn, he hoped that the poor boy's soul was entrusted into the care of the Seven. Jaime was not a truly religious man, but he adhered to the tenets of the Seven much like any other man, thus he vowed to pray for Edmyn each week.
"The increased harvest would see an increase in our food supplies, drive down the costs of grain as well." He paused for a moment as he realised just some of the implications of this upon the markets. "Though we end risking with having the problem of too much grain to be sold leading to prices being lowered."
The creature paused for a moment, a light coming to eyes that were not his. "I did not think about that. Eh... I'm sure a solution will be thought up by the time it actually becomes a problem. I'm more worried over the fact that the increased harvests would mean more people working in the field to bring it in and all that other farming nonsense. I want less people on the fields, to do other things as well." It wrapped its fingers upon the table, keeping the auburn head that was not his propped up by the other hand. "I think it was called a threshing... machine? Something that separated the chaff of the wheat without needing an army of people to do it... well, I'm sure if we give the basic idea of how it's supposed to work to Blake or Mikken with some input from some farmers, something is bound to turn up, so we'll leave that out for now."
Jaime nodded as he continued to dutifully take down notes that his duty required of him, even if he was at a complete loss what a threshing machine was. Perhaps he was going mad, but he wondered why some people did not notice the strange words, ideas and mannerisms that the creature showed sometimes?
It could not have been that subtle in the way it worked, could it?
"What of the soil?" He asked, duty driving him to ask the important questions that would see to it that the lord of the castle administered his lands to the best of their abilities. "If we abuse it too much, it will reduce the fertility of the land and impact the yield of the next harvest." Did the creature have an answer for this as well? Jaime had come to think that the rings he had forged at the Citadel had made him come to learn and understand much of the world's workings, but it seemed like there was always something more to learn.
The creature paused its wrapping and blinked. Did it not think of that possibility? So, it was not all that knowledgeable then?
It furrowed its eyebrows for a moment before speaking. "Crop rotation is a thing is it not? I remember seeing some fields being left fallow whilst farmers grew other crops."
"Yes, it is your grace." He confirmed, his chain making sounds from the slight movements of his head as he nodded. "It has been a staple farming technique for many centuries after it was introduced by the Andals."
It raised an eyebrow. "So, crop rotation is an Essosi thing? That's not as surprising as I thought it would be. Anyway, the crop rotation I've noticed is that farmers leave one part of their field fallow. I think that's the three-field crop rotation method. What I'm going to try and introduce is the Norfolk-." It stopped for a moment before quickly speaking. What I'm going to try and introduce is the four-field system. Basically..."
Jaime found himself taking notes once more as the creature explained this 'four-field system'. It was a method of agriculture that allowed for continuous growth of crops in a four-year cycle without a fallow year for the soil to be left to rejuvenate. Although this system came in the form of making sure that certain crops were planted in the field, each crop helping sustain the soil in some way.
The maester also made sure to note to try and look up this 'Norfolk'. Perhaps it was the place of origin of the creature. With the way the creature had moved to correct itself, it must have been an important place of some kind even if the name was unfamiliar to him.
"The best thing is," the creature smiled, pleased with itself for some reason. "with the extra crops being grown, they could be used to feed the animals. Bigger and fatter cattle and pigs for everybody, I say!"
"I have to say your grace, I am curious as where all these ideas come from." Though he hid his face behind the parchment paper that he wrote upon, he made sure that his eyes had a visible look on the creature as it studied its face for any sign.
The creature easily shrugged Edmyn's shoulders, or perhaps its own shoulders that had taken the form of Edmyn's body. "I have always had ideas, just never the chance or the opportunity to bring them out of my head without fear of bringing unnecessary attention from Harren. Now that he's gone, I can finally use those ideas to the betterment of the people." It finished with an easy grin.
He smiled emptily at the creature. "Perhaps you are touched by the smith, your grace."
He did not like the look that flashed over the creature's face at the empty compliment. "Aye, that would be something, wouldn't it?"
The words it said brought an uneasy train of thought to him. The full nature of the creature eluded him. He did not even have an inkling of what the creature was, but with the way it had spoken, could it be something of a more benevolent kind? Some kind of holy spirit sent by the Seven-who-are-One?
The creature had yet to do anything actively malicious at all to anyone, Jaime realised. Hells, the maester came to realise that the creature was more friendly and amiable than a lord had the right to be.
The creature, that of either of holy or demonic origin spoke up. "Are you going to report my ideas to the Citadel? On my notions of government, engineering amongst other things?"
The uneasiness in its voice made him take a moment. It was certainly curious of the creature's reaction to the notion of the Citadel having reports of its ideas.
Jaime shook his head. "I was raised and taught at the Citadel yes, but my loyalty is solely reserved for Riverrun and Riverrun alone. If you wish me to not report these ideas and devices to the Citadel, then it shall not be."
His teacher and the closest thing he had to a father that had taught him everything he knew had told him of the duties of maesters. Of how their allegiance was owed only to the castles they served and not the lords.
"It's in the oaths we take." Jaime remembered Maester Peremore telling him one day when he was nothing more than an acolyte. "Some Archmaesters would like it if we held our absolute loyalties to the Citadel, but I don't particularly remember any of the maester's oaths mentioning the Citadel. They mention the castle, nothing but the castle. Remember that Jaime. We serve the castle and nothing else."
The maester had taken those words to heart and it was those words that stopped him from acting out. It was the castle he served, he told himself, not the Tullys.
The creature slumped into the back of his chair. "Would you? That would be so kind. I have a feeling that we are going to be needing every kind of advantage we can get if this whole Kingdom of the Trident is going to last more than my lifetime."
He bowed to the creature that wore Edmyn's skin or had taken Edmyn's form. "As you will, your grace." He said, his chains rattling and reminding him once more of the vows that he took. It was the vows of the maester that defined him and it was the vows that he would keep.
The creature gave him a funny look. "One of these days, I am going to make you call me Ed."
"It would be improper." He said and once again, the over familiarity of the creature was another sign things were not as they were.
The creature smiled at him. The sort of smile that reminded him of a young Edmyn smiling him just as he did when he learned something new. Something that interested him. He did not know what had come to happen to the boy that he had watched growing up, but he prayed that his soul was in good hands.
If the creature was truly benevolent, then it was more than likely that Edmyn's soul was in good care. If not... a candle shall be lit and prayers shall be said.
"Thank you, Jaime. For your help and everything you are doing right now."
The chains rattled as he rose up from his seat. "I live to serve the Lord of Riverrun, your grace."
And with that, he left.
Sometimes, whether I was a glutton for punishment or not, I always found myself surprised by the sheer lack of workload that I had to do. I know very well that not everything demanded the king's attention and I was hard at work at making sure that people knew to bring me the really important parts that would probably need me to go find someone who knew what was up to deal with it.
What I'm trying to say is that, occasionally, when everything wasn't on fire, I liked to go for a little ride around the lands of Riverrun. It sort of relaxed me and allowed me to realise that once more, I was now living the life in a land that forced me to ride a horse to go from A to B.
I mean, I have been in Westeros for a couple of months now, near four if I had it right, but it was still pretty weird for a guy that was used to getting places through the power of motorized vehicles.
Sure, sometimes I walked, but that was beside the point.
Maybe this was just Edmyn leaking through or me just finally getting used to my surroundings, but I couldn't help but find the Riverlands to be truly and utterly beautiful. Rolling hills and plains so green that it genuinely seemed to be downright unreal.
It was essentially the stereotypical English or Welsh or Irish or whatever countryside that people would think off in whatever century that Westeros was trying and failing to keep to.
In other words, it felt as if I was back home but not really at home at all.
It was well weird.
Did I mention the countryside was absolutely gorgeous? I did? Good, because I suspect the unlucky buggers that were the rivermen had to have something going for them for being the shit basket of Westeros.
"It's a beautiful day isn't it, coz?" Lyam asked, riding alongside me. We had something of a retinue riding with us that included the people from court.
Eyeing amongst the party of riders that were enjoying the day out with me despite the fact that it had originally been supposed to just include me and some close companions which were now pretty much identifiable as Lyam and Axel, when the plans had leaked out, the amount of people that had decided to make a day of it had suddenly increased.
I didn't enjoy that bit of news, but Axel and Lyam had more than been ecstatic about it. I suspect one of them had actually leaked the news since they had both floated the idea of inviting the lordlings at court out for such a day for some socialisation and influence building.
Thing is, I already did enough of that at Riverrun. This was supposed to be my quiet time alone with people whom I found a-alright, not just another day at the office. Was I not allowed a little me time?
In the group of lordlings and lords that were ruining my me time included the hostages from the Blackwater houses. Pretty much all of them. From the Darklyn children that included one of my newest squires in Willem and his sister Alys who was busy in conversation with Axel.
I spotted my other squire Perwyn Stokeworth amongst the party as well as Lord Darry who seemed to be enjoying himself amongst the young company that surrounded him. There was something to be said about an old man like him in the company that he found himself in, though that was mitigated by the fact that a son of his had joined him at court from Castle Darry, Myles.
On Lyam's statement though, I couldn't help but agree. "The sun's out, the sky is blue and the birds are busy singing some happy tunes." I took in a deep sniff of the country side air and it just seemed like what I would expect the country side to smell like except for the large heaping of horse of course. "A beautiful day indeed, coz. Hopefully, there will be more of them in the future."
I was definitely tempting fate by that statement but this being Westeros, I was bound to be tempting fate with anything that I did. Shit was going to hit the fan one way or another and the only thing that I could do about it was to not be surprised when it did.
"I think there most certainly will be more days like this." Said Lyam with the undying optimism of a young man who had yet to learn the harsh truth about Westeros. He motioned towards the party of lordlings that rode some little ways behind us. "When was the last time that highborn were so easily able to socialise like this? Long before we were born, I tell you. Come coz, stop being so grim and enjoy yourself."
I gave him a look. a contentious one at that. "I'm not grim."
"You always speak as if you're expecting swords to be drawn at any moment."
"Me? Grim? Blasphemy of the highest order."
The heir to Seagard snorted as he pointed in the direction of one of the newest addition to my growing court, Septon Byron. "I think he would disagree, not all that vehemently mind you, but disagree all the while."
I glanced back at the septon for a moment and smirked. "Nah, I think he would somewhat agree with me."
Septon Byron was an a-alright guy. I had expected the worse considering which organisation he was affiliated with, but apart from a mild love of wine or anything alcoholic, he seemed somewhat genuine in his duties as a man of the cloth. I had yet to hear anything about him visiting any of the female staff's chambers.
Either that or he was a ninja.
It was sort of a shame that he was an agent of an organisation that I would be effectively courting Aegon to burn down when he eventually turned up.
Lyam shared the same smirk that was on my face. "I must admit, I have enjoyed my time with him as of late. Less talk of physical shows of faith and more about spiritual. What exactly did you do to him?"
"I just showed him that I had better things to do with my time."
It had been easier than I had thought convincing the man that the coin that the Iron Bank had graciously lent me wasn't going to be donated to the Faith anytime soon or to be used to build a septry here or a motherhouse there. Mind you though, I had gone the fully monty by inviting him for a ride through some of the lands most devastated by the predations of the ironborn and letting him here the evils inflicted upon the people and how hard they had it.
After that, he had quietened down and instead had focused on his duties that I would have expected of a priest expy instead of trying to get me to lean on my bannermen to donate non-taxable land to their already ridiculously wealthy organisation.
"I'm sure you did." The fair haired lordling hummed good naturedly. "Souring father's mood after his recent jubilation with the charter was something that I was not planning on doing anytime soon."
"He's enjoying that city charter then I take it?"
"More than you would think. I didn't think you would grant it, considering the previous histories of the river kings and such things."
"Great men came before me, I would admit to that particular nugget of truth. I will never even come to match them, but I think not developing some of our most populous settlements into cities was a folly previous Kings of the Trident did that I am not to repeat."
Remember when I said about reading a blog about the economic development of the Riverlands? Not having cities was one of the things that was pointed out that should be changed. Granted, I could understand why the Justmans, Mudds, Teagues and all that wouldn't allow for cities to develop, but I was a trusting man who believed in the better nature of humanity.
I was more than positive the riverlords would rise above their petty feuding and join the kingdom that I was building.
With incentives.
City charters being such incentives.
Stoney Sept, Lord Harroway's Town (I was going to see if I could just convince Lord Harroway to rename his town into Harroway cos that was a mouthful), Maidenpool, Saltpans, Fairmarket... all of them just happened to get a charter of their own. Of course, the charters gave them the usual rights of cities according to Jaime, but I had also added some of my stipulations into the charter.
Lyam nodded to my words as we travelled down a well-trodden path that went alongside a stream. Though the western riverlands were mostly flat plains and hills, bodies of flowing water could still be found if one walked in any direction.
There was a reason this place was called the Riverlands after all.
Some irrigation projects wouldn't be such a bad idea to start up. With the seed drill that was in the works, a really strong agricultural market could be found.
Lyam's horse snorted as he spurred it on to keep to the pace that we had set. "He wasn't exactly pleased with some of the finer points."
"Which ones?" I asked, already having an inkling to the points that were not in agreement with that of the lord. "His expression soured on quite a few places."
"The lower taxes."
No surprises there. "He says that now, but it certainly isn't going to be lower when he starts collecting them."
"He just does not see the point. He fears corruption would be ride amongst the tax collectors."
"Your lord father will know what he is paying his tax collectors. If they suddenly start living above their means, he will know that they had been sticking their hands inside the honeypot." I gave my cousin a reassuring smile. "Just trust me on this cousin. Long before you know it, your lord father will be thanking me for increasing his tax revenues."
Sometimes, when you go through the motions on the internet, you end learning a couple of things here and there. Tax farming was one of them. The consensus that I had ended up reading upon was that if someone wanted to run an efficient state, well, as efficient as you want it, tax farming wasn't the way to go or generating the most out of your potential tax base.
I just had to deal with it at the moment due to the fact that I lacked the sufficient infrastructure to support the new tax regime. Until then, the tax farmers were still in business but there days were definitely numbered in this part of Westeros.
Lyam didn't seem all that convinced but he accepted my reasoning, no matter how vague or dependent on his trust of me it was. I think he was just glad that Seagard finally got permission to develop itself into a full-fledged city after so long. "If you say so."
His scepticism wasn't exactly his fault. The method of tax collecting I was implementing in the land was definitely unheard off in Westeros and alien, so it was bound to be met with suspicion and scepticism.
Axel soon rode up from the company of lordlings with the septon in tow. "What are you two talking about?" He asked as they fell into pace.
Glancing from the corner of my eyes towards the septon, I replied. "Oh, you know, Lyam not knowing how to repay me for the city charter that Seagard had received."
Our cousin rolled his eyes but kept it all in good humour.
"The wisdom of the Crone surely touched you with that move, your grace." Said Septon Byron with his hymn like voice. Despite my hesitance towards the guy, he had a really nice voice and all that. "Many previous kings of your realm had denied such a boon to their lords despite the wealth that could be brought in."
"They unfortunately had other concerns on their mind, though they did do quite well for themselves despite everything."
Axel nodded in agreement with me as he made the right noises in the septon's presence. "The Justman's ruled with the Crone wisdom during their time as kings, even when they denied such charters."
"A shame what happened to them." The youthful septon wrinkled his nose some in distaste. "Qhored Hoare shall be burning in the seven hells for all eternity for the atrocity he committed."
We rode on following the path beside the stream before the sounds of music and joy floated into our ears as we rode up towards a small village that sat on either side of the stream with a small, sturdy enough looking bridge hanging over the body of water, but one I wouldn't trust to take too much weight on it.
From the jaunty, lively music and singing that we could hear, something special was definitely happening.
And I would admit that I was curious. Perhaps it was some sort of holiday or something that could be made statuary for the entire kingdom? There can never be something as too many holidays as far as I was concerned.
We left the rest of the company to water the horses outside the village outskirts as we followed the music. I knew my reasons for venturing into the village, just out of curiosity but the others were a mystery to me. Perhaps they were curious as well.
The music took us to the other side of the village were a great ashen tree stood where several dozen or so people stood underneath its canopy. Stopping my horse on the edge of the festivities, I took a moment to take the sight of it all in.
This was one of those rare times that showed me that although the smallfolk had it tough in Westeros, sometimes, they lived lives they could enjoy when the high lords weren't busy killing each other over who owned what and where.
Then the music came to an abrupt stop.
The music suddenly stopping took me by surprise for a moment before I caught myself and flashed the people a smile atop my horse and called out. "Greetings!"
An old whitebeard approached with some hesitance. "Greetings m'lords, how can we be of service?"
"Service?" I asked, shaking my head. "Nothing of the sort. I didn't mean to intrude on your festivities. If you don't mind me asking, what's this all about?" Looking around, I couldn't help but notice the collective wince that seemed to go through the entire throng of people.
What was that all about?
The whitebeard looked about nervously, licking his lips as he tried to find something else other than me interesting. He tugged at the hem of his woollen shirt. "It's well..." He licked his lips before a look of defeat overcame him. "A wedding m'lords. It's a wedding. Please take mercy m'lords. We knows it's well within your lordly rights to take the bride and we should have had you told..."
There was a cool look on Lyam's face as he spoke. "Coz, don't tell me this is why we went out on this ride? Is this why you wanted it to be just us instead of the court?" He asked accusingly, anger and disappointment lurking in the back of his throat.
Axel didn't say anything, but there was a hardened look to his eyes. Actually, scratch that, he looked pretty miffed. The court septon on the other hand just looked onto the scene that was developing with a neutral expression.
I was really confused here as I looked between the whitebeard, Lyam and Axel. I was missing something here. "What are you on about? Why are you guys angry for? What right?"
Lyam's cool expression slowly formed into one of mild confusion though Axel calmed down some and only raised an eyebrow, indicative of what, I had no idea. "The right of the first night."
I blinked owlishly. "What?" Can somebody make some sense here?
The septon decided to speak for the first time. "Though the Seven-pointed Star does not speak much on the right, it is neither condemned nor praised amongst the scriptures. Do not be ashamed, your grace, you would not be the first king or lord to take it."
Once again, I blinked. "What?"
The right of the first night? What the hell were they talking about? I mean what... Ohhhh.
They were talking about the Droit du seigneur.
There was no way that was a thing. Hell, historians were pretty sure that was not a thing and something that was cooked up by people for the whole 'Aristocrats were evil' trope in historical fiction of some kind. Just to add to the evilness of aristocrats.
There was no way that was real.
I would have gone on to continue to tell myself that the droit du seigneur was not real at all until the crows came to roost before it dawned on me that I was in Westeros. I wouldn't actually put it past Martin to take something that was more than very likely fiction and make it real.
I was quiet for a moment and took in a deep breath of air to calm myself down at the fact that I was being accused of riding all the way over here to rape some poor woman who I had never met.
With the best smile that I could summon underneath the auspices, I looked down at the whitebeard. "I hope you give my bride and groom, my blessings."
The whitebeard blinked and I was quite sure he didn't know what was going on either so he just nodded.
Pulling at the reins to turn Shadowfax around, I faced the three that had joined me. With a steely neutral expression, I spoke. "I'm just going to go back to Riverrun and completely forget that this entire episode happened." I didn't give them a chance to reply as I kicked the side of my horse to spur him forwards, past the lot of them rather rudely without sparing them a glance.
It took a lot for me to get angry and I was the sort of person to keep quiet when angry.
And I was really angry.
I was still really angry.
Somehow, my mood had been worsened by the fact that Lyam and Axel, two people who I had spent my new life with a lot had thought me to be some kind of bastard that would take a supposed 'right' on some poor woman.
And fuck that septon for trying to give me an in on the whole thing.
From my reading of the Seven-pointed Star in my bid to get into his good graces, pretty much all of the various books dedicated to each of the aspects of their god spoke against rape of any kind. Apparently, taking to bed some random woman about to be married to another was not considered rape by some.
Wasn't not violating the sanctity of marriage a big thing in the Books of the Mother, Maiden and surprisingly enough, Smith?
"I'm genuinely sorry." Lyam said, sounding just about as exactly as he looked sorry. Perhaps even more. He looked pretty close to tears or just about there. "I thought you brought us there for..." He motioned a hand.
Yes, because I had definitely gone there to rape some random woman I had never even known existed until then. Hell, I didn't even know there was a village there at all.
I kept quiet as I stared hard to the outside world from within Riverrun's solar. I had wanted to be left alone when we returned to the castle, but Lyam and Axel had not apparently gotten the memo.
"We should at the very least have given you the benefit of the doubt." This time, it was my little brother speaking, sounding reasonably contrite about the whole thing.
I turned slowly to face them, a stone faced look on my face. "Benefit of the doubt?" I near hissed. "For as long as any of you have known me, do you think I would allow myself to fall to the level of a godsdamned ironborn?"
They both flinched at the question. Each shared a look between the two of them, having some sort of silent conversation, probably about how they could get me out of my anger.
Thankfully for them, I just happened to not be quick to anger and even quicker to cool off. Getting angry about things just never appealed to me as I could spend time doing something about it instead of wallowing about it.
I had cooled off really.
The fact that I was talking to people was more than a sign enough about the state of my mood at the moment.
Turning away from them, I went back to staring hard into the distance. "I'm going to outlaw the practice."
They both blinked at that. "The right of the first night?" They said at the same time. Lyam then continued speaking, sounding quite pleased about my little declaration. "That would be noble. A marriage should be between two people who have come to love and care for each other." My head slowly craned round to look at the Mallister heir and to my surprise, I wasn't the only one giving him a disbelieving look. Axel joined me as well with the way he was looking at Lyam. Said lordling shifted nervously on his feet. "What?"
"Nothing." I said as the distance called out to me once more. "I didn't know you were such a romantic."
"There is nothing wrong with being a good man. Hopefully, me and my future betrothed would come to love each other both body and soul."
"How..." Axel trailed off, probably trying to find the right words. Stupid? Optimistic? Naïve? There was a bunch of words my little brother could say. "Noble." He eventually settled. Ever the pragmatist Axel. I knew I liked him for a reason.
"We are nobles." The Seagard heir returned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"True." Axel turned away from him. "If you mean to outlaw the right, you shall have trouble. Lords just don't like to have their rights taken away like that, no matter how debased they are."
Aegon, the Fourth of His Name did try to bring in smallfolk reforms that would have seen the smallfok protected which somehow offending many of Westeros' lords over their rights being degraded. Even if those rights were aimed at making the basis of pretty much every lord's wealth and power live a little more easily.
Whilst I was busy thinking about how to solve this offence to my persons, Lyam had reacted to Axel's words. "No good riverlord would allow themselves to fall so low. The right of the first night is something only the savages of the Iron Isles would partake in."
"Then why is it a 'right' that is recognised even in these lands?" Axel asked, annoyed. "Coz, stop expecting the best out of people. You'll learn to live a happy life filled with little disappointment."
"That sounds like awfully dreary life that would leave me in melancholy." Lyam barked back in a surprising show of anger.
"You will end up leaving such a dreary life with the expectations you set upon people."
"Please," I said quietly enough for them to hear me. "Both of you shut up. I'm trying to think." I didn't need to hear them argue about the best philosophy on how to live a life. I had more pressing matters to attend to, said offence to me being somewhere at the top of the list. "...Get me Jaime. I have an idea."
"You have thought of a way to abolish the right?" Axel asked, eyebrow raised but cautious all the same. "Ed..."
I held up a hand to quiet him down. "I have an idea. It might work, it might not. I won't know unless I try it."
The books had not given a good impression of how the lords of Westeros worked and I planned to use that to my advantage. And anyway, I was just going to be taking advantage of something many tech companies took advantage off back home.
It was a rare thing indeed to come across someone willing to read a large block of text, especially in the middle of the goddamned night.
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.
Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]
ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]
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I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.
Mar 30, 2018
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#280
Book One - Blood In The River
10 BCE
Riverrun
"Roads, your grace?"
What was the point of the question? I was sure that I was speaking the common tongue, so what the hell mate?
Still though, my face neutral, I gave a single, firm nod of the head.
"Yes, roads."
Ser Franklyn Frey pursed his lips in thought, hands idly wrung together in the front of his face as he leaned back into his seat. "Sire, we already have roads."
His reply made me think of the quagmire of tracks that the people thought of as roads when they were anything but. One would think for a people that were capable of just downright building castles and other monuments that would tell physics to fuck the right off, they would have a little bit more standards when it came to roads.
Or the things they called roads.
"No. We have well-trodden tracks of muds and earth that everyone calls roads." I was not really at all impressed by the general infrastructure of the Riverlands. Granted, they had their reasons, but I was quite positive that the rest of the kingdoms followed suit in their well-trodden tracks that they would proudly call roads. "Proper roads would be a boon for our fledgling kingdom. They would allow for travel times over land to decrease by a significant amount," no more carts and wagons and all that getting bogged down or horses losing their shoes in the mud on a particularly rainy day or after said day. "and connect settlements together from across the realm. That, my lord, would help encourage trade."
Of course, with the increased trade across the roads, I would more than likely see an increase in banditry as people tried to make a quick buck from travellers and merchants. In that regard, the army that is being trained will have to step in and patrol the roads.
In fact, it had dawned on me that I would actually have to probably create some separate force that saw to the peace of the roads and highways to stop anyone from doing anything funny.
The heir to the Crossing quirked an eyebrow in thought for a moment. "So, you want well-trodden tracks all across your kingdom, your grace?"
Ha. I suppose he thought himself rather funny.
"You are aware of the Valyrians roads found in Essos?"
Martin had gone out of his way to make the Valyrians really be like the Romans, but in truth, I always found the Valyrians to be something of discount Romans. The Romans certainly didn't need dragons or magic to create one of the greatest empires to have ever existed.
Rome might not have been a nice place to live if you happened to be a slave but considering what I had come to learn about the Valyrians, they were thousands of times better than whatever the Valyrians had going on.
Seriously, Mantarys was actually a thing here.
"I've read about them, though I hear the knowledge on how to build such roads has been lost to history when the Freehold was consumed by the Doom." Dark eyes bored into me with a softy intensity. "Have you by any chance, rediscovered that knowledge, your grace?"
A good natured snort escaped the confines of its prison. "No. I just want paved roads in my kingdom. The knowledge to build Valyrians roads has been lost to the Doom, yes, but the Free Cities have done well enough building such paved roads without whatever magic the Valyrians used for their roads."
Ser Franklyn's eyebrows furrowed together in deep thought before he spoke. "I'm flattered and honoured by your request, your grace, but I have no such experience in matters such as this." He finished quietly, as if he wasn't actually pleased with himself for admitting to such a fact.
That took me back. He was actually telling me that he probably wouldn't be able to get the job done? I had figured he would grab this task by the balls and get right down to it with no questions asked simply because.
I was quite aware that the books had shown more than a fair few reasonable lords who knew what they could and couldn't do, but it was a rare enough thing to see any one of those lords, admit to the fact that they may not be cut out for the job.
I think I was beginning to like this guy a whole lot more.
"To be honest, I sincerely doubt there is anyone in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms who has experience in such a matter." Infrastructure at the massive scale that I was aiming for? In Westeros? Yeah right.
"Then why me?"
"You are young." Came the shrug of an answer. "And I bet you are willing to learn. It's easier for someone young to change their views than someone older."
A light of realisation hit the young knight for a moment. "I suppose that answers the question for why your court is so young."
"At some point in time, it's going to get older."
"Time tends to do that."
Ha, that was pretty funny. I was beginning to like this guy more and more and thus, I found myself quite saddened at the fact that at some point in time, Walder Frey was going to come along and ruin it all for everybody with the name Frey.
"Well, until that happens, I hope you are ready and willing to learn on the subject as my new Minister of Works."
That took him back for a moment. "Minister of Works?"
Throwing a small smile at the older man by only a few years, I nodded. "Yes. I am currently in need of a government of some kind at the moment and you seem to be like the right kind of man for it... if you want it, of course."
"I'd be honoured." He replied coolly. "House Frey would be honoured for such a position, your grace."
"Excellent!" I said with a grin the size of Russia. Got to make it seem like I was excited that I had got the man that I wanted for a particular task. It makes them feel valuable... or somewhere along them lines. I couldn't quite remember where I had read that from. "Of course, I understand your worries about your lack of experience in such matters that's why I enquired into some experienced men from across the narrow sea to help us in that regard."
Why would I leave such a great project in the hands of a complete amateur? If I could, I would have hired the Essosi workmen just like that without needing these theatrics, but I was trying to bring certain houses on side. The Freys were one of those said houses considering they were the power to bet on in the north, though I suppose one could count on Seagard being one of those other powers as well...
"So, I shall be overseeing them?" The lordling asked, rubbing his clean shaved chin. "That's something that I can do. If I may ask, does your maester have any books on the subject? I might as well learn as much as I can before seeing to the task at hand."
Cracking a grin, I called for one of my squires, Perwyn. "That, my lord, is question for the maester to answer. Perwyn! Good of you to answer so quickly! Please take Ser Franklyn here to the maester's offices."
The stocky boy of three-and-ten years old was quick to step inside the office and step aside ready and willing to lead the older lordling to his destination. "This way, my lord."
It was rather weird having a squire. I was still getting used to having the ability to do something and them doing it. Apart from my younger siblings, there were very few people that would listen to me like that.
I put it towards the fact that I now had a title to my name and that people with swords followed my orders.
Watching Ser Franklyn leave my office, the door closing quietly behind him by the hand of Perwyn, I couldn't help but note the fact that he had been right that my court was rather young. I was pretty sure that the eldest of my court just so happened to either between Jaime or Lord Darry.
I wasn't exactly doing it intentionally, but the fact that so many young lordlings and ladies were beginning to find themselves in my court was a good thing. These people were after all, the next generation of lords and people I would more than likely be interacting with more so than their parents or elders.
It wouldn't be such a bad thing to have them on board to have them on my good side, but that meant dealing with a lot of teenagers that had far too much power or grand notions of themselves. It was a rare thing indeed to come across many of the young highborn at court who were as self-aware about themselves of the likes of Ser Franklyn.
Thankfully, I had social butterflies in my employ in the form of Axel and Lyam.
I was positive that Lyam would forward the interests of House Mallister any chance he got, but I could count on him to not say bad things about me or House Tully. Axel was pretty much all House Tully as far as his thought processes went.
But even if I left that to my allies, I'm sure that nothing would be better than me actually involving myself in court life, even if it meant talk to some of the most vapid people I had come to know. Unfortunately, it had long dawned upon me that this was to be my life from now on.
Fun.
The western Riverlands were mostly plains with the occasional rolling hills and the most obvious of them all, a river of some kind that was a tributary to the Trident. Once again, i just had to not the sheer ridiculous number of rivers that dotted these lands.
It wouldn't have been so ridiculous if the maps of the Riverlands at large would be a little more detailed in including all the rivers that flowed into the Trident. I had crossed over so many fords that I couldn't help but wonder that this place should be called the Bridgelands by the number of bridges that were going to be built just to provide a safe crossing that did not disappear after some heavier than normal rainfall.
Still though, the plains of the western riverlands were just beautiful. They were so green. So fresh. And so thoroughly fertile that I couldn't help but wonder if food shortages were ever going to be a thing when everybody had a seed drill.
I do remember something about a famine but that was during the time Bloodraven was running about so long after I was dead unless I secretly found some sort of elixir that granted immortality which I doubted. If it did exist, the Valyrians would have probably found out about it by now or learned from it from the YiTish.
Speaking of Yi Ti, note to self, send some sort of trade fleet in that direction.
Corlys Velayron got bloody rich from just one expedition in that direction with a single ship. I couldn't help but wonder about all of the riches that would come back to my coffers if an entire trade fleet was sent in that direction.
The thought was almost making my mouth salivate.
"Look at that one right there, your grace." Lord 'I-still-refused-to-say-his-first-name' Bracken pointed in the direction of a herd of horses that was grazing in a penned meadow some fair distance away from us. "She's a beauty, isn't she? She's reared from some of the finest stock we had. Father was quite proud of her."
I... really did not know which horse he was talking about. It wasn't as if I was a horse man exactly. I mean, they all looked pretty much the same to me. In that regard, I was of the same mind as Edmyn that if I could ride it, I didn't particularly care for it.
For example, the stable hand kept telling me that Shadowfax was the finest horse in the entirety of the Tully stable. I had taken one look at the black as night horse and the others and noticed that it was still a horse. How it was the finest was beyond me.
Not wanting to be that guy, I called upon years of experience of nodding along to things I didn't really understand to just get it over with. "She truly is. Quite the amazing beast actually. You Brackens really know your horses."
"You must be obsessive about your horses then, your grace." Lady Anya Bracken was nearing fifty but age had not yet dulled her beauty. Truth be told, she was less beautiful and more handsome I would say. "I've-" she stopped for a moment, catching herself before shaking her head. "was married to a Bracken for some couple of decades and yet, I find myself still lost to the intricacies of horse flesh."
Lord Bracken smiled wickedly at his mother. "Horses are not intricate at all mother. I think them to be some of the simplest creatures in this world. Honest as well."
I swear, this reminded me of something.
Still though, I couldn't take that sort of statement lying down. "I'd disagree there, my lord. I'd wager dogs are of a more honest lot than horses." A beat passed. "And even more simple."
"His grace has got you there, son." His mother said with a soft smile.
The young lord let loose a bark of laughter. "Yes, I do believe he has. Dogs are unflinchingly loyal to their masters. Why, father once told me of a dog grandfather owned that continued to follow him, even after he had been laid into the crypts till the day it died."
Once again, something about that pulled at a distant memory of mine. Of what, I couldn't actually remember or recall.
"Still," the lord continued, looking into the penned meadow where the horses had started going for a run. An entire herd of them, I could hazard at a guess of more than fifty or so and that was just one group. "in terms of honesty, I would gladly wager that horses would even given dogs a hard-enough time."
"Well, I wouldn't want to argue against a man whose family is well known for their horses. I know when to pick my battles and when to leave certain things be."
"An admirable trait," the lady amongst our company said in approval. "I think a trait that would best serve you well in your kingship, your grace."
I gave the older lady a smile. "Thank you, my lady. I hope to not disappoint. Lord Bracken, I know it's only been a few weeks since you last aided me, I must come for your services once more, though this time, it's nothing as strenuous or risky as the last time."
That definitely piqued his interest. "Oh? What would you ask of me, your grace?"
I spurred my horse forward for a little before lightly pulling at the reins so that I would both be facing the two Brackens instead of being in the middle of them. "I have a great many projects in mind that would be of great benefit to our fledgling kingdom. These projects of mine are going to make us rich, perhaps the richest in all of Westeros and powerful. So powerful that we would not have to fear threats of invasion ever again."
With the way they were all giving me their undivided attention, I now knew I had their interest. Lady Anya was giving me a look that I could tell was studying me to make sure that I wasn't making this shit up, whilst her son seemed interested in what I had to say by the looks of things.
"Just recently, one of the first projects that I had commissioned to see to our rise was just completed. Of course, it's only one such building at the moment, but in time, there will be many more of them."
My mind drifted back to just some days ago when Blake and Mikken had more than proudly given me a tour of the first steelmill to probably exist on this side of the planet or perhaps on the entirety of Planetos. Such a grand occasion needed a party and I was more than willing to host one at Riverrun for all those little lordlings that happened to be leeching off me.
Of course, there were still some things that needed to be worked out but as far as I was concerned, everything just happened to be a resounding success. I could see it now, the army I was building decked out in half-armour, significantly better than what many lords and kings would be able to armour their own levies in.
"What sort of project, your grace? If you don't mind an old lady's questions."
Letting my eyes drift over to the lady, I flashed her a smile. "I don't mind the questions at all, my lady. I'm sure that your lordly son told you of the royal army that is being built? Well, this particular project was to see to it that all of the men that will be in the army will be armoured in steel."
She took her head back for a moment, eyes widening slightly. "I must admit, as a lady, notions of war don't interest me, but from my understanding, would that not be expensive?"
"By the usual methods, more than you would think." I leaned forward, my smile threatening to become a grin. Despite the passing of the days, I was still quite pleased about the steelworks being up and running, even more so now that Blake was now available to put his head together with that of Jaime for my other projects. "But this project would drastically lower the costs." As long as I built up the internal infrastructure for it of course.
At the moment, I was sure that the costs would be higher than they should be considering the abysmal state of well... everything.
The Lord of Stone Hedge rubbed at his chin. "Intriguing, my lord. I suspect that some of your projects include House Bracken in some form or way?"
Perspective bastard, though he did come to the conclusion with enough clues as to where I was going with this.
With a nod in his direction, I answered. "Yes. Quite a few actually. I mean to thoroughly abuse House Bracken's knowledge of horse breeding for both civil and military purposes. Of course, your house shall be generously rewarded for the services it shall render."
Mother and son looked at each other for a moment, having a silent conversation. I sincerely doubted that they would turn me down. Though the lords of Westeros looked down upon anything resembling mercantile interests, it was amazing how many of them were involved in such things one way or another.
The Brackens sold horses.
I do believe that was within the realms of merchants and yet I was positive that they would sneer at the notions of coin counting of any kind.
And here I was, offering them both coin and royal patronage to just do what they always did for something that of great interest to me and them. They were never going to turn me down.
When they looked back at me after their little silent convo, I knew I had them. "Sire, what would you have of us?"
It was quite difficult to keep the grin of my face. Really quite difficult. "Tell me, what do you know of the Dornish sand steed?"
Zhoe didn't quite understand it. For some strange reason, Joanna was somehow more excited for her own betrothal than she was. No, wait, that sounded wrong. It wasn't to say that she was not at all happy about her betrothal, she was actually excited, it was just somehow, Joanna seemed to be a little more excited than her.
"Aw, you are to marry a king!" Her sister cooed excitedly as they made their journey west on the Red Fork on a suitably luxurious barge that they had been able to acquire in Lord Harroway's Town though from some of the talk she had overheard in the town was that it was to be a city soon, with its own charter and everything else. "A dashing young hero that sounds exactly like from the tales and the songs."
The barge rocked some on the waters of the Red Fork, setting her stomach into an uneasy lurching. Zhoe had never cared much for boats and she certainly did not care for them even now. "A Symon Star-Eyes, no?" She giggled at her sister's words of dashing heroes and knights.
Joanna cocked her head to the side for a moment, her pink limps pursing some in thought. "Well, I suppose Harren would be something akin to a dragon. No-one dared to ever go against him." Suddenly, her sister clapped her hands together happily. "I think a song needs to be written about him."
"And let someone else sing it, I don't need you ruining the betrothal with your atrocious singing." She laughed, much to her sister contestations.
"My voice is not that bad." She whipped her brown but almost black hair to the side. "It's wonderful and something you are clearly jealous off."
"In truth, I'm more jealous of Deaf Ed."
Her sister glared at her as she laughed airily at her own quip.
A comfortable silence lulled over them as Joanna, mercifully, hummed instead of singed as they continued their journey. Finding the barge suddenly stuffy all of a sudden and needing some air to settle her stomach for she loathed to embarrass herself in front of her sister, Zhoe leaned forward and slid the shutter back so that fresh air could enter the cabin.
It also allowed more light from the outside world to enter the cabin they were in.
Their barge wasn't the only one in the waters. There were several more filled with guardsmen and archers to deter anybody that thought of attacking them. Though the ironborn were no more from what her father had said, there were still large groups of bandits that roamed the lands, bandits that had at first started as mobs to hunt down ironborn if some of the tales were to be believed.
Despite the fact that their little train had near two companies of guardsmen, archers and knights, her lord father had not been happy enough with the preparations for their security. Some leagues behind them followed another company of guardsmen and knights on horses, though she doubted that they would be able to keep up.
Though the knowledge might not be one required of a lady of her status, even she knew that travelling upon the waters was far faster than travelling overland.
Suddenly, her sister stopped her much more agreeable humming as a thoughtful look came across her face. "The king has a brother, does he not?" She asked, her tone reminding Zhoe of the time they would spend conspiring after one thing or another when they were children.
Thinking about it, she thought of her future husband and what she knew of him, which was, admittedly, not much apart from what she had heard about him from rumours and gossip, but what she did know about him was that he most certainly did have a brother.
So, she nodded her head as she moved to answer her sister. "That he does."
Joanna's grin could not be any wider than it already was. For half a moment, she feared it would split her poor sister's face. "That means whilst you get yourself a king, I can get myself a prince."
At that, Zhoe blinked. She blinked hard. Surely her sister was not that stupid, was she?
"Why would the prince marry into a family that his brother is already married into?" She asked slowly, trying to understand.
"Oh, you know, to further solidify ties between our two houses of course!" Her sister exclaimed happily as she twirled a lock of her around a finger. Zhoe found herself taken aback and was about to say something before her sister's eyes flashed and she started laughing. "Oh, sometimes it's just too easy with you dear sister!"
It didn't take long for Zhoe to understand what had just happened. Her sister had played her for a fool. She found herself not liking that one bit, so she crossed her arms like a petulant child and huffed. "Why must you do that?"
Her younger sister stopped her annoying braying and a single, well looked after eyebrow rose up her face. "And why must you be so naïve? It would not hurt you to be more sceptical sister. You are to be a queen! A queen! A power in your own right! People will try to influence you one way or another, for better or for worse to serve their interests. I won't always be there to stop you from doing anything foolish."
Zhoe couldn't help but shake her head at finding herself being lectured by her own younger sibling no less. "I'm not so trusting sister." She said though she questioned the truth to that statement.
She was trusting, that she knew, but only to people that she knew well. Her family, some of the knights and guardsmen. She was trusting to them mostly because she knew them from when she was young, nothing more than a little girl.
She would not be so trusting to a stranger, someone she did not know.
"Oh good, because the future of House Mooton rests on your shoulders."
"I thought the future rested in young Bryndon's shoulders?" She asked in thought of their little brother, amused.
"Well, the immediate future." Her sister corrected. "Your marriage is most definitely a boon for us."
Of that, her sister did not need to tell her. She was quite aware how advantageous her future marriage to the new King of the Trident (as he styled himself) was. It brought prestige and influence to House Mooton.
Father was sorely invested in making sure that this union worked. He had been more than clear enough in his stressing of it. The Mootons had been kings once, they had royal blood in them, so it was only natural that they be as close as possible to the new throne as allowed.
Father himself was going to be in Riverrun to make sure that she kept her eyes on the prize ahead on the horizon, having accepted a position in the council their new king was forming.
Joanna continued speaking. "I wonder if there are any eligible lordlings at Riverrun? I wouldn't mind finding myself a husband from a respectable enough house."
At that, she could answer. "There's the heir to Seagard, Lord Lyam Mallister."
Her sister's eyes shined at the mention of the Mallister heir. "House Mallister? Seagard?" She said excitedly. "They are more than worthy enough to have me as a future lady. Lord Lyam shall most definitely be counting his lucky stars when he falls head over heels for me."
At that, the firstborn of House Mooton couldn't help but laugh. Her sister most certainly did have a high opinion of herself. "I'm sure you shall knock him off his feet sister." Much like the winds that occasionally came into the Bay of Crabs from the narrow sea.
Once again, Joanna flipped her hair. "Naturally."
Last edited: Sep 21, 2018
