Chapter 300: CHAPTER 300 A Clash of Loyalties
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CHAPTER 300 A Clash of Loyalties
297 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
Jon Lynderly, Ronnel Hunter, and Royce Coldwater were deep in conversation; their brows furrowed with concern as they attempted to decipher the movements of Aermir's army. They convened within the confines of a sturdy canvas tent, its flaps billowing gently in the sea breeze that swept in from the nearby shores of the Bite. The salty tang of the ocean lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of damp earth.
Seated upon rough-hewn stools and makeshift chairs, the men huddled closely together, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of torchlight. Outside, the rhythmic crash of waves against the rocky shoreline provided a steady backdrop to their conversation.
As the discussion unfolded, each man's gaze was fixed intently on the map spread out before them, its surface marked with myriad symbols denoting troop movements, supply routes, and the last-seen locations of the accursed orcas.
Jasper Redfort, brother to Lord Horton Redfort, had remained silent throughout the deliberation, his mind clearly preoccupied with weighty thoughts. As the discussion reached a lull, he slowly raised his head, his piercing gaze meeting those of his companions.
With a measured tone, Jasper interjected, "Gentlemen, forgive me for my silence thus far, but it seems we may be overlooking a crucial factor in our analysis. While it is true that Aermir's worsening condition may signal an end to hostilities with House Drasil, we must not discount the influence of the Druid."
Royce Coldwater's voice cut through, his words carrying the weight of conviction born from years of battlefield experience. "No knight worth his salt is going to follow someone else into battle when his lord is dying, and when Aermir dies, the House Drasil dies with him. All those men will fall under the rule of Lord Stark," he declared, his tone resolute. "The Druid may wield great power, but without the proper pedigree, he cannot hope to rule over the Drasil army."
Jon Lynderly nodded in agreement, "Aye, Royce speaks true," he concurred, his gaze fixed upon the map as if searching for answers. "But also let us not underestimate the influence of this Druid. He may lack noble blood, but his mastery of the Old Ways commands respect among those who follow him."
Ronnel Hunter, ever the pragmatist, interjected with a note of caution. "Even if the Druid cannot sway the Drasil forces to his cause, we must remain vigilant," he warned, his voice tinged with concern. "As we know, a new army is gathering in the North, calling themselves the Templars of the Old Gods. Five thousand men strong, they say. But we cannot be too sure of their numbers since our spies in the North have run dry in the last few years."
Jasper Redfort, his weathered features etched with the lines of experience, nodded solemnly in agreement with his companions. "Then..." he took a deep breath and continued, "Our duty remains unchanged. We must fortify the coastline and remain vigilant. Let's not forget that should the little lordling perish, we may face a storm of troubles from the North. They still believe it was our doing."
As the seasoned commanders deliberated within the tent, the subdued atmosphere was abruptly shattered by the arrival of anxious subordinates bearing urgent missives. Jon Lynderly's brow furrowed in concern as he perused the contents of the hastily delivered messages, his eyes widening in shock with each passing word.
"Gods be good," Jon exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief, "Strongsong and Newkeep under siege? This changes everything."
His words hung heavy in the air, stirring a flurry of activity among the assembled lords. People from those castles leaped to their feet, their expressions filled with apprehension. The news of the sieges cast a shadow of uncertainty over their plans.
Robert Hersy's voice cut through the urgent discussions like a clarion call, his words resolute and tinged with urgency. "Ser Redfort," he addressed Jasper with a firmness born of conviction, "I cannot in good conscience remain idle here while our ancestral home is besieged. Every moment wasted is another opportunity for our enemies to tighten their grip on Hersy lands." He didn't even know his family was long gone.
Despite only having 1000 men here, Robert Hersy's sense of duty to his house burned brightly. Jasper's voice rang out with authority, "You cannot leave; none of you can leave!" he declared firmly, his gaze sweeping across the assembled lords with unwavering resolve. "Lord Arryn's command is clear—we are to defend the coastline at all costs. To abandon our posts now would be to forsake our oaths of loyalty and duty."
Robert Hersy's voice tinged with defiance as he challenged Jasper's authority. "My lord, I was not asking for permission. I was informing you," he declared, his tone firm and resolute. The weight of his loyalty to House Hersy bore heavily upon him, driving him to prioritize the safety of his liege lord and kin above all else.
The air crackled with palpable tension as Robert's words hung in the air. Jasper's steely eyes were like stabbing him. "Your loyalty to your house is commendable, Ser Robert," Jasper responded. "But we cannot forsake our duty to the Vale nor disregard the orders of our Paramount. And what can you do with only 1000 men?" Tension was running really high.
Royce Coldwater sought to diffuse the rising tempers that threatened to boil over in the cramped confines of the tent. As he placed a reassuring hand on the shoulders of both Jasper and Robert. "Now, now, gentlemen, there is no need to raise your voices," he urged, his gaze shifting between the two men with a soothing reassurance.
Turning his attention to Jasper, Royce spoke with a sense of pragmatic understanding. "Castle Redfort is a long distance away from here," he remarked, his words japping towards Jasper. "That is why you can calmly follow Lord Arryn's orders and defend the coastline as intended."
Royce's focus shifted to Robert and the urgent plight faced by House Hersy. "But their home is under attack, and our sons' lives are at stake," he emphasized, his tone infused with a sense of urgency and concern. "We will be leaving."
Jasper's initial pang of hurt subsided as he absorbed Royce's pragmatic reasoning. Though he had intended to voice his concerns, Royce acted before him and continued, "Even if all of us leave," looking towards the people of Hersy, Lynderly, and Belmore, "you would still have 8 thousand. Drasil's army has already retreated. Even if they come out today and bring their ships back, it will take them at least 4 or 5 days to get to the closest coastline. Until then, we can deal with the mountain army and come back. Then, we can face our punishment for abandoning our post. Jasper, we cannot sit here while our houses and family face battle."
Jasper mulled over Royce's rationale, finding a measure of sense in his words. Jon Lynderly chimed in with an additional insight. "Aye, Royce speaks true," Jon concurred, his tone steady and resolute. "If we deal with this mountain men's army first, we can consolidate our forces and confront Drasil and the Druid as a unified front. Even if they have the Druid on their side, they'll face daunting odds against our combined strength. Lord Arryn's efforts in mustering a force of 45 thousand men speak to our capacity to withstand any challenge." Jon Arryn had to spend a fortune buying grain from the Reach, but he managed to raise an army of 45 thousand men.
Jon Lynderly's suggestion resonated with the assembled lords, prompting a collective nodding of heads. Robert Hersy added, "I think all of us should march towards Newkeep and Strongsong; there is no point leaving this army here."
Jasper shook his head, "All of you are assuming the castles didn't fall." Robert Hersy's anger simmered beneath his words, "House Hersy might not be as strong as Redfort, but we are no cravens," he declared, his voice echoing with a bit of anger against him. "Let us not forget the harsh realities of war. The mountain men may be fierce and unpredictable, but our defenses are not easily breached. Put your hand to your heart and answer me: do you really think Mountain men could breach Newkeep in one day."
As tensions mounted within the war council, Jasper held firm, "We must proceed with caution," he urged. Robert was mostly right. Without Aermir's help, the mountain men would have been seen long before approaching the castle, and the castles would be fully fortified when they arrived. When that happened, it would at least take 3 to 4 days at best to take over a castle.
Reluctantly, Jasper yielded to the collective will of the other lords, recognizing that a fight might break out if he persisted. They agreed to leave a contingent of three thousand men to safeguard their coastal holdings while the bulk of their forces, twelve thousand strong, set out on the march towards Newkeep.
As they made their preparations and began their journey, little did they know that their deliberations had not gone unnoticed. Unseen by the lords, a small black mouse observed their discussions from the edge of the tent, its keen eyes taking in every word exchanged among the gathered nobles.
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