Chapter 19: The cost of the Peace of Hardhome
Hardhome
Hrolf Map Biagr glares at Rhodri as he has laid out the terms to the family "we won a victory! Why are we the ones having to pay the costs as if we were defeated?!" his good brother sighs as he looks at the map of Beyond the Wall and then at the territory they have managed to carve. It has been a three days now since the expedition of the Southerners had finally marched back to their warm and flowery seats, acceptable, he can take that as it is, what he will not allow is the fact that the terms his good brother agreed on makes it seem like they were the ones defeated.
They were not allowed to expand southward and westward, and they took his nephew, Anarawd, as an honored guest, hostage, Hrolf thought as Rhodri began to put pieces on the map showing the positions of their armies, his attention then turns to him, eyes cold and calculating.
"One victory does not determine an entire war, as bitter as it is to admit, the Southerners still have an advantage over us" Rhodri said as his brothers seem to nod at him agreeing with his statement, Gwain and Hywell. Gwain most of all who seem to be taken by his defeat at Jorrik's Hall.
"We have giants-"
"The giants are only at full strength counting to a hundred, the Southerners? They can replenish their loses, they can continue this war and grind us all to dust, Braavos has just sent me a letter which arrived just tonight, the Blackfyres had already been defeated once more and all the armies of Westeros had returned and could now focus their efforts to us" Hrolf grunts.
"The gods and the bravery of men determine who wins battles" he argues, but he knew it was just an argument for the sake of arguing with his good brother.
"Indeed the gods and the bravery of men do determine how battles are won, but you also forget that the favor of the gods is determined on the availability of supplies, the absence of sickness and bad weather, and the discipline of the men, and that bravery of the men will falter without any of the means in which we could prosecute a war, kings and chieftains will die, swords and pikes will break, armor and shields can wear and tear if constantly used what use are men's fists if they do not have the tools to use to fight a battle when your enemy are as innumerable as the snow at our feet?" Rhodri calmly states as he accepts mead from Gwain.
"One does not march to war with an army he wishes to have, he marches with the one he has" Rhodri nods at the words of his brother, drinking from his cup and setting it down at the table.
"Indeed, we have won one spectacular victory, we manage to secure for ourselves the means to shape the destiny of many lives here, this peace will ensure that" Rhodri insists but still Hrolf was not yet convinced or he just did not find it in him to accept such as it is.
"My brother and my nephew are suitable sacrifices for this peace of yours?" Rhodri glares at him as Gwain and Hywell step forward ready to go in between them.
"Careful now Hrolf, good brother you may be...you don't know how much I have thought of this...you don't know how I often think of any possibilities that I could save Gorm, of how I had to live with the fact that I have to give up my son for peace..." Rhodri pulled off his beret and then drew his sword and before Hrolf could react he threw it at his feet "since you know so much about ruling then why don't you send me to the gods and be king yourself!" he snarls as Hrolf took a step back as he looks at his eyes, they are tired. Both Gwain and Hywell both approached their shaking brother who was fighting off his tears and Hrolf could only find himself be ashamed before the man who had sacrificed too much.
"I am...sorry" Hrolf could only say as he left the Great Hall of Hardhome built by his good brother.
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