Chapter 35: Chapter 35
10th Month 267AC
Although it was only spring, no-one could be blamed to consider it to be summer. The burning ball of gas that hanged in the air thousands of thousands of miles away hanged lazily in the middle of the sky, so it was midday or thereabouts. I decided then and there to see whether I can get all those brainiacs that work for me to make as close to a mechanical clock as they could.
Wait a second, didn't I read once upon a time that there was some sort of clock in Braavos? If there was, I wouldn't really be surprised. It was Braavos. They had their shit together probably more than half the world.
Luc took grab of my arm and shook it with all the enthusiasm a five year old of his calibre could muster. "Father! Look, it's Ser Barristan!" He excitedly pointed down to the tourney grounds.
My attention was turned away from my thoughts of clocks to the lists below. Training my eyes onto the single knight dressed out in white enamelled armour, I did notice that it was indeed, the Bold himself. I ruffled Luc's hair. "Yes it is."
"It seems nothing escapes your vigilant eyes, dear brother."
Me and Branda shared a look from the corner of our eyes as we realised where this was going. I'm sure Dany and Luc loved each other much like any siblings. I had gone out of my way to make sure everybody liked each other. I wasn't about to have something stupid like what happened with Stannis and Renly happen.
I'd rather much prefer it if my house wasn't divided.
Luc leaned forward to look past me towards his sister who sat on the other side of both me and Branda. He stuck out his tongue. "Father wasn't paying attention. So I had to make sure that he knew what was happening."
I took offence at that. "I was paying attention, thank you very much."
"Then who happens to be the knight that has been able to make it this far then?" I could feel the smirk that was on Branda's face when she asked that question.
My eyes turned from my son who looked a little bit too pleased with himself for a moment to look down upon the jousting field once more. Ser Barristan was obviously the knight in white. No doubt about that.
So who was the other guy?
I looked at the sigil on his shield, a bull's skull on a red field. Nothing came to mind, so I scoured all of my knowledge on every house in Westeros that I could come up with. I eventually settled on a name. "Bulwer of Blackcrown." I answered, feeling rather smug about myself. "And if I might add to that answer some more, their house's words are Death Before Disgrace. You know, with words like that? I wouldn't mind him on the Kingsguard."
That was the entire point of this tourney.
The Kingsguard was severely understrength with only five active knights in it's roster. That wasn't even taking into account that my family was just happening to keep growing in size and that Duncan and his own family needed some Kingsguard for protection detail.
Dany had a playful grin on her face. "Well done Father. You can recognise the heraldry of your subjects. Now what about his name?"
I glared half-heartedly at my daughter. "Who's side exactly are you on?"
She laughed then, but Luc was nice enough to give me an answer to my question. "That's Ser Ashton Bulwer. He's done really well. Will he be joining the Kingsguard then, Father?"
"Mayhaps." I answered. "He has to impress not only me, but Sers Barristan, Gwayne, Lewyn, Harlan and Gerold. Especially those last five. After all, he will be trying to join their illustrious order of knights."
"I'm going to be a Kingsguard." Luc declared, little chest puffed out. "Going to be as great as Prince Aemon the Dragonknight."
Dany rolled her eyes. "You can't be a Kingsguard silly. You are the crown prince. The heir to the Iron Throne."
"Theo can be the heir then."
"Theo's a baby."
"Theo's three. He's not a baby anymore."
"Actually," Branda spoke up, cutting into the two's argument. "As far any of you are concerned, you are all my babies. Don't you all forget that. Now hush sweetlings, look, they are about to begin." She brought the attention back down to the jousting field below.
"Ser Barry is going to win." Dany declared confidently, her hands gripped to her skirts so tightly, I worried she was going to rip them. "He's the best knight in the realm."
I indicated with a free hand towards Ser Lewyn and Ser Harlan who stood guard at the only approach of the royal view box. "I would think they have something to say about that, isn't that so sers?" I asked the knights.
"Ser Barristan is alright. Not as good as me though." Ser Lewyn remarked in his Dornish drawl. Okay, I will admit that for some strange reason, the Dornish accent sounded a lot like a Spanish accent to me. Was that supposed to be normal?
Branda smiled down at the night. "But clearly not as humble as you, Ser Lewyn."
"I'm afraid not, your grace. Such a curse to be one as modest as me."
Ser Harlan shook his head slowly before giving his own answer to my question. "The ser might be good, but he's not as experienced as me."
"And I hope we all live to be as ancient as you, Ser Harlan." The Dornish Kingsguard remarked. "Hopefully, not as sour though. I like to be sweet tasting."
The Grandison scion slowly turned his white helmeted head to glance in the direction of the Dornishman. "...I'm not that old."
"Oh, my pardons then. So difficult to tell when you act as you do. One would think you are a hundred years of age."
The children giggled then and Ser Harlan shook his head in good humour before turning his attention towards to the field below. Ser Ashton's black destrier dug at the ground for purchase, snorting as it did. It seemed more like a wild bull more than anything else.
All it needed was a torero and we would have ourselves a party.
I guess the Bulwer's heraldry was more at home for the bull than for the knight.
Ser Barristan's own destrier on the other hand was as calm as a cool summer's breeze. It seemed to be as confident as it's rider as it's tail swished back and forth with a nonchalance about it that seemed borderline arrogance.
The squires passed forward the lances to both knights before quickly running away towards their own respective places. A silence came over the stands as the watching spectators that was made up of lords, ladies, townsfolk, both rich and poor waited in bated breaths for the knights to charge at it each.
At some unspoken signal, the two charged at each other, horses pounding the dirt hard that one could have mistaken for there to have been more than two riders. Yet, there were only two.
The Bulwer knight angled his lance to strike for a perfect blow on Ser Barristan's shield in the hopes of knocking him off his horse, but any smart man would have put their money on Ser Barristan. At the last moment, a little less than a hair's breadth away from each other, Ser Barristan shifted himself and his lance slightly, forcing the lance of Ser Ashton to glance of his own shield and for him to split the Bulwer's knight's own shield and strike him straight in the chest, his lance splintering into a thousand and one pieces.
The children gasped as Ser Ashton was send hurtling to the ground so violently that he landed with what seemed to have been an audible thud of a sound were he laid down unmoving. I admit, I was a bit worried about people dying at these things, especially in front of my children, but thankfully, it seemed the Bulwer wasn't so soft.
He was moving and was trying to get up when Ser Barristan wheeled around on his horse and dismounted it. He walked towards the knight in two easy, long strides before helping the man up to his feet with one effortless motion.
"Well fought, good knight." Ser Barristan acknowledged with a strong hand on his shoulder. "You showed yourself as for someone of true knightly talent."
Ser Ashton Bulwer made a couple of rusty coughs as he hit at his chest. "Not enough to win though."
"But perhaps more than enough to impress."
The stands were on the feet clapping in thunderous applause. I supposed it would only do for me to stand and clap as well, along with the rest of my family.
"I told you Ser Barry was going to win!" Dany said cheerfully.
"I never said he wasn't. Don't put words into my mouth." Luc retorted.
"Shush children," I sighed wearily. "Ser Ashton showed himself to be someone of skill as a knight."
"Are you going to induct him into the Kingsguard then?" Branda asked, curious.
"I will have to make a decision with the other Kingsguard knights. There were many knights that impressed these past few days."
xXx
In front of me stood fifty knights. These were all the knights that had taken part in the tourney that had been one part bread and circus, another part job interview for the job of protecting their king. Out of these fifty knights, forty-two will be inducted into the newly reformed Kingsguard.
In front of me stood the current Kingsguard that I had at the moment. Ser Gerold the Lord Commander was the closest one standing to me. Ser Harlan as the effective second-in-command of the order of knights stood to his right and finally by Ser Gwayne. To the left of me were the relatively new knights compared to the old that included Ser Lewyn and Ser Barristan.
On the raised platform that I happened to be standing on happened to be my own family and my extended family through my uncle. Steffon would have loved to be here, but he had his own duties in the stormlands that he couldn't ignore for as long as he did.
Looking over the five by ten ranks of the knights I wondered if many of them were nervous?
I took a step forward and cleared my throat to gain their attention. "You all did well these past few days." I said in the best, 'I am the guy that is in charge' voice that I could do. "You all impressed and made me proud to be king to a realm full of knights with the likes of you all! No doubt that many a songs and tales will be spun about the achievements of many that you accomplished. You all earned the honour and most importantly, the right to demand free drinks!"
I could hear the laughter. I hoped my joke was a good one and that they weren't laughing out of pure courtesy to their king.
"As you all know, the purpose of this tourney was to find worthy knights to take upon the white cloak. The Kingsguard has been lacking in strength these past few years and I think-no. I certainly know that we have found the right men to adorn the illustrious clock and serve the realm well. Ser Gerold, if you could." I finished with a nod in the direction of the Lord Commander.
Ser Gerold stepped forward, solid brown eyes looking over the assembled knights will all the imposing might his large and powerful frame could give. "Ser Bryan Sunglass, step forward!"
From the back of the third column from the right, a man stepped away from his line and made his way to the front. Fair skinned, sandy haired and brown eyed, Ser Bryan was comely enough to make a maiden's heart swoon. I didn't care much for how pretty he was. I cared for how good he was with steel in hand, and Ser Gerold and Ser Harlan had given him the vote of confidence that he was good enough.
I remembered him a little. He didn't impress in the jousts, but apparently, he had more than impressed in the melee. I left the decision to the senior and seasoned knights who knew more about this crap than me.
It also kind of helped that he happened to be the son of a House that had been sworn to House Targaryen all the way back to the pre-conquest era, so loyalty was a given.
Ser Bryan stopped in front of Ser Gerold and kneeled. "Ser Bryan, in agreement with His Grace and my fellow Sworn Brothers of the White Swords, you are hereby inducted into the brotherhood." The White Bull glanced to the side where two attendants made their way towards him, holding a cloak, shield and sword of nothing more than pure white that it was like snow. The sword stood out though, it's hilt made out of dragonbone.
Ser Bryan took the items into his hands apart from the white cloak that was tied around his neck by Ser Gerold. "Rise now, not as a son of House Sunglass, but a sworn brother of the Kingsguard and take your place beside your new brothers."
"My thanks, sers, Your Grace." Ser Bryan said, rising to his feet and making his way towards the left were Ser Lewyn and Ser Barristan stood. Both of the knights gave their new brother a slight nod of acknowledgement.
Ser Gerold then continued with the ceremony. "Ser Ashton Bulwer, step forward!" He bellowed once more.
Ser Ashton was far more different than I had thought of him to be. His face was round and smooth that I thought him to be nothing more than a child, or younger, a babe. Jesus, how old was this kid?
I think Branda was of the same mind as she quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly before lowering it to regain her previous expression of regal neutrality.
Like before, Ser Ashton kneeled in front of Ser Gerold and was awarded a white as snow shield, cloak and sword with dragonbone hilt before taking his place with his new sworn brethren. But this wasn't the end of the ceremony.
I spoke up once more. "For all of you that were not awarded the honor of the Kingsguard, fear not, you can serve the Order and the Crown in more ways than you can imagine. It has come to my attention as of late that House Targaryen has somewhat increased in size as of late. Not by much mind you, but a noticeable amount that would mean that Ser Gerold and his brethren would be hard pressed to carry out all of their duties, thus by royal decree, I am extending the number of the Kingsguard from seven, to forty-nine!"
That gained their attentions as previous knights that had done their darnest not to look down at the notion of them not being chosen for getting the honour to become a Kingsguard. Apparently, being a Kingsguard meant a lot to some people. Who knew?
"This new formation of the Kingsguard would be as follows, six knights underneath the command each of the seven you see in front of you who shall be the Knight-Captain of your Chapter. Therefore, for those whose names have been called up, to come to the front and be given your cloak, sword and shield and stand in front of your assigned Knight-Captain." I paused for a moment to let that sink in. "But unlike those of your Knight-Captains, you may have the chance to serve the Kingsguard and their anointed duty for seven years of service, or serve for life. That is the choice that you shall have to make!"
I nodded once more to Ser Gerold to take the reins of the procession. "Ser Marq Rivers, come forth!"
And the first knight to be inducted into the First Chapter of the Kingsguard stepped forward, grim faced and pox scarred, Ser Marq strode forward. I do think he seemed somewhat pleased, or perhaps that was the Chelsea smile-like scar that was giving the wrong impression.
Like before, Ser Marq kneeled in front of Ser Gerold and was given his cloak, shield and sword with dragonbone hilt. Had to make the peons feel valuable after all, before standing to side of Ser Gerold. That was one down, forty-one more to go.
This was going to be a long day.
I realised that with my plans to extend the Kingsguard to become a deadly, elite, private force of the King that I was going to be doing this a fucking lot. So I supposed I might as well get some practice in whilst I was at it.
xXx
11th Month 267AC
Wyman Manderly was surprisingly handsome. I don't really know what I had been expecting. I recalled from the books that the man had been given the nickname of Lord-Too-Fat-To-Sit-A-Horse. Then again, that was a little over thirty years into the future when he was a man nearing sixty. This was during the prime of his youth and man, was he a handsome, powerfully built, young blonde man with sea-green eyes.
And he was wearing that moustache like it was something fierce.
He rose at mine and Duncan's presence as we entered the small council chambers. "Your Grace, Lord Hand." He greeted with a polite and formal bow.
"Rise, Ser Wyman." I said, walking towards the man and clasping my hands onto his shoulders. That must have surprised him a bit. I grinned. "How do you find our fair city? Not too loud, I hope."
Duncan had given the Manderly knight and heir an acknowledgement that was more or less an incline of the head and a smile. Ser Wyman smiled somewhat. "Certainly more orderly looking than the last time I was here."
I removed my hands from his shoulders and guided him to retake his seat. "Ah, you rode south with my goodfather for the fighting in the Stepstones." I recalled whilst doing my best impression of a sagely nodded. "My goodfather tells me you made your valour and skill in better known. Killed a Company captain, if I recall correctly."
His grin was wide. "You recall truly, Your Grace. It had been a hard fight. The man was quick and powerful. He fought with honour, but he fell to my mace all the same."
"It sounds as if that had been one hell of a fight. Would have loved to see a knight such as yourself fight it."
"You praise me too much, Your Grace." Ser Wyman replied, slightly abashed.
"I praise you too little, you mean." I looked down at the seating Manderly knight. "White Harbor is the principal port of the north. So you deal with a lot of merchants and trade, yes?"
Ser Wyman nodded. "Aye, Your Grace. Some might say more than what should be appropriate for a noble house of our standing." He finished with a bit of bite in his voice.
Ah yes, trade and the likes were the realm of merchants and coin counters. To be honest, Wyman wasn't honestly my first choice in the matter. I had been meaning to approach one of the Arryns of Gulltown, but Rhaella had warned me off such a course of action. Apparently, the other Arryns would have taken offence at one of their lowly, coin-counting cousins being offered a position in any sort of royal council.
Bloody hell, the Arryns and their stupid honour.
Well, that was Rhaella's problem and not mine. I don't know how people reacted to being told how to raise their children, but I wanted to tell her that she should be wary of having her children's head being filled with nothing more than bullshit that could probably get them killed the Ned Stark way.
Rhaella's counsel was wise, but I still wanted an Arryn of Gulltown. That lot held the largest trade fleet in all of the Vale of Arryn and probably knew more about the overseas markets compared to the Redwynes and the Hightowers by virtue of being closer to Essos.
In fact, an envoy of theirs had been pawing at me to at least give them a chance of buying some of the clippers that were part of my burgeoning Merchant Navy. I can probably give them a position or something to do with that particular aspect of the growing crown bureaucracy and services.
"But you know of trade, yes?" Duncan asked. Ser Wyman nodded and Duncan smiled. "Good, because we are offering you the position of Minister of Commerce."
Wyman Manderly blinked in confusion. His large sea-green eyes seemed as lost as a deer in headlights. "Minister of Commerce, my lord Hand?"
Duncan nodded. "Aye, Minister of Commerce. Our Gracious King that you see in front of you has seen fit to reform how our government works." Ser Wyman looked at me and I smiled and waved. "The Minister of Commerce, if you accept the position, will be tasked with promoting, fostering and developing domestic and foreign commerce. Of course, considering the task at hand, you will be receiving all the aid available to you in setting up this arm of the royal government. We have slowly built up the bones, but there is still much to do and we hope your experience with such matters will come in hand." Duncan pulled out a sheaf of sheets that he was holding and handed them to Ser Wyman.
Ser Wyman took the papers, hazily looking over them for a moment before speaking. "I had thought I was to be Master of Coin."
"I abolished that particular office." I said with a wave of the hand. "Although your duties will comprise of duties that the Master of Coin would have taken care off when the office still existed. So my lord, will you take the office? Or will I have to find someone else?"
Ser Wyman stood up to stand tall. "I'll take the office your grace. I'll be your Minister of Commerce." He smirked. "Wyman Manderly, First Minister of Commerce has a nice ring to it, I think. I pity the fools that will have to follow after me, for I shall make sure that the shadow I set will reach till the ends of time."
"I hope it won't be fools following after you. That would not bode well for the state of the men of the realm." He laughed as I held out a hand and Ser Wyman clasped it by the forearm. His grip was strong, I think mine was strong, but I couldn't tell because my right hand was my stupid hand. "You should probably thank my regal wife, my lord." Ser Wyman raised an eyebrow. "She was the one who suggested a Manderly. She swore upon the old gods that you lot knew your business when it came to such matters."
The merman grinned widely again. "I shall make to do so, Your Grace."
An attendant was summoned to escort Ser Wyman to the part of the Red Keep that had been sectioned off to be the offices of that particular department of the government. Archmaester Russell was finally giving me and Duncan something that we could work with in order to reshape the government to suit it to something that wasn't so ludicrously skewered with too much power and responsibility being placed into the hands of too few a people.
And as the first sign of my government, I had pawned of the responsibility of foreign and domestic trade to a Manderly. The northerners were known to be somewhat loyal, especially to their precious Starks. It was a good thing that I happened to be shagging one then, wasn't it?
On the other hand, I really hope I was long dead and buried by the time a byzantine bureaucracy had the time to be formed. I didn't want to deal with that nonsense.
Duncan found and chair and suddenly dropped into it like a sack of potatoes. He let out a long held sigh of relief. "I feel as if part of the burden that has been forced on my shoulders has been lifted."
In a way, that was very much true, but only a part of his responsibilities at the moment. "Not that much. You still have quite the weight on your shoulders."
"Yes." Duncan agreed, taking a long, lingering look at me. "No thanks to my darling nephew who clearly wants to overwork me to death." I cast him a lovely smile and he ignored my play at charming him into forgiving his cute little nephew. "Are you ever going to talk to that Arryn?"
"Tommen Arryn?" I asked and he nodded. "Eventually." I rather liked having a monopoly on the fastest ships that could apparently, out carry most other ships this side and the other side of the narrow sea and any other sea. "He wants to buy my ships. I don't know whether I want to sell them though. Good economic sense tells me that I should, but I want to keep the crown's monopoly on trade at the moment on goods such as tea."
My clippers were able to make the journey to Qarth faster than anybody else could and bring them back before anyone knew what the fuck was going on. And due to the fact I had quite a few of them rolling out of the assembly lines, the markets were being flooded with tea leaves.
Sure, the price had gone down on tea, but that had seen a large increase in demand for the good as more people could afford it. Supply and demand at work. I'm sure there was more to it, but I didn't particularly care as the gold kept rolling in from all those tea merchants buying my shit in bulk quantities at the price that I set.
Maybe I should cut off the middle man all together? But then, I think I would be straying into the sort of territory a king shouldn't be seen straying into.
What was it that other SI's did in this situation? Dammit, I can't remember. Maybe I had written it down somewhere in my notebook of ideas.
I wondered if rice was a thing here? Maybe I should commission a trade mission to Yi Ti and have some boots on the ground, so to speak.
My Hand nodded his head slowly. "Remember, you are a king, Aerys. Not a merchant. Best leave such dealings to such people."
"I know uncle." But gold was ever such a pretty colour.
"We received a raven from Lord Addam." He told me.
I raised an eyebrow. "How did it go?"
Duncan stood up from his seat. "They had to fight off a couple of pirates and slavers. Captured most, and all of them sent to the gallows. Thankfully, one of the bases of the slavers is a natural harbour, easily defensible and fortifiable as well. Although he is requesting some instructions on a matter of concern." I raised my eyebrow at my uncle to let him continue. "Those slavers were about ready to transport a large cargo of slaves to the markets of Tyrosh, Myr, Volantis, Lys and Slaver's Bay. Most of them don't have homes to go back to."
"Refugees." I said without prompt. Westeros was insular and no doubt, people were going to make a hassle of having a foreign people worshipping foreign gods in their land. I'm sure that in the larger cities, seeing foreigners was nothing new, but I didn't particularly think this far ahead when it came to the freeing the slaves part of the calculation. "Grey Gallows is a big island. I'm sure we can build a settlement for them there."
My uncle had an eyebrow raised. "And if it grows to bursting? I suspect these will not be the only slaves our fleets rescue from their sad fates."
"I'll think of something." I walked towards the large map of the known world that I had installed in the council chambers. I picked up a pin and placed it on the island of Grey Gallows. "Grey Gallows." I mouthed loudly with a shake of the head. "What a nice cheerful name."
"You wish to rename it?"
"Perhaps." I answered vaguely. "When our hold over it is a little less tenuous and more solid. And when I think of a suitable enough name."
"Speaking of names, what shall Lord Addam call the naval base?"
I stroked my chin and tried to think of something. Well, since I was going mad with the dragons everywhere theme, might as well keep going. "Fort Balerion. After the Black Dread."
"I think by the time it grows to the size you envision, it will be more than a simple fort."
"Trust me uncle, Fort Balerion just works."
Duncan had something of a wry smile on his face. "Shall we be expecting two more dragon forts in the future then?"
I turned to face him, my grin more than a little something on my face. "Uncle, you do not even know." I turned back to the map. "The problem still poses that we have to hold the island somehow. We need something like the Free Cities."
"Hire a sellsword company?" Duncan asked with mild distaste. My uncle didn't care much for sellswords.
"No. Not that." I shook my head before continuing to speak. "We need a citizen army like the one Tyroshi one we fought against in the Stepstones."
Duncan sounded a little hesitant and uncertain. "...How many numbers are we talking about in this royal army of yours?"
"In the crownlands alone, we can call upon fifteen thousand men." I think that number had increased substantially over the years because there was less need for entire families to work the fields with little things such as a seed drill and a rudimentary horse pulled threshing machine.
Fuck me. I didn't expect much from the threshing machine. I had just sounded of my ideas to a gathering of blacksmiths and artificers and offered a cash prize on the first one who got that shit done. Someone eventually walked away a very rich man. Richer than he had come.
"I want those fifteen thousand men to be a standing army."
Duncan winced noticeably. "You are beginning to sound like a tyrant, Aerys."
I spun to face my uncle. "How do I begin to sound like a tyrant? Tywin keeps a strength of five thousand men-at-arms at a given time. You don't hear any of the river or reach lords complaining about that."
I actually had yet to hear anyone complain about Tywin keeping a constant standing army of five thousand men at Casterly Rock and the surrounding area. Considering the fact that he had a claim to Coldmoat and it's lands from his grandmother being Lady Rohanne Webber was simply ridiculous that no-one was yet making a complaint about that.
"My words were too strong, I admit." Duncan said in a tone that called for me to calm down. I was calm. I don't even think I was even that heated on the subject. I just wanted to know how I was sounding like a tyrant. "It is just think of how some lords might feel about us holding a standing force."
I would like to say, fuck them, but diplomacy was the best course of action. "They didn't complain much when we had dragons."
"That's a different matter altogether. You know it, I know it."
"Not really. I'm just proposing we replace dragons with an army loyal to the Iron Throne." I stopped for a moment. "And anyway, we have a Royal Fleet, why not a Royal Army?" It wasn't that much of a leap in logic.
My uncle was quiet for a moment. "You do have a...point. But how do you plan on making these men stay loyal to the Iron Throne?"
"Good pay and benefits for their continued loyalty to the Iron Throne."
"Land?" He asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"There is more to earning a man's loyalty than land, uncle." I stopped for a moment. "Although it does help. Look, okay, maybe we can make a compromise. A standing force to protect our new acquisition from any retaliations by the slavers, pirates or Tyroshi or whoever."
"Raised from the freed slaves." He countered.
"How many freed slaves are even there? A couple dozen? I think we'll need more men than that."
"A couple hundred actually." My uncle told me before going back to the matter at hand. "A thousand men."
"Five."
"Two thousand."
"Five."
Duncan gave me a dry look punctuated by his purple eyes. "I don't think you understand how this works. And five thousand is more than needed to protect the base and island."
"I understand it very well. I just care not to play this particular game and you can never be too careful, uncle. More is good."
My uncle and me had something of a stare down before he sighed in resignation. "Fine. I'm sure we have more than enough gold."
I grinned at him. "You are the best uncle." I had no actual intentions to you actually keep to five thousand. My target was the fifteen thousand men mark. The estimated miitary strength of the crownlands. It was going to take time, but that was better than nothing.
"Every day it seems like I spoiled you too much as a child. I regret everything now." He said as he made for the exit of the small council chambers, leaving me alone.
I turned to look at the map of the world map and the little coloured pin that had been placed onto Grey Gallows. Honestly, I wasn't having dreams of conquest or anything like that.
Honestly, my grand master plan revolved around my five point plan. More specifically, Point Five. Have a back-up plan or some place to run away screaming too. All good leaders had a basic idea of what they wanted to do in their term of office and I certainly knew what I wanted to do. So where was the sin in working towards that goal?
And anyway, Duncan was more than right. Five thousand is more than far too much to hold the island from threats such as pirates and slavers. A thousand would probably do, but I planned for the posting to be on a tour of duty basis. Just needed to figure out the finer details and then I would have something there.
It was also about time to see how my new generation of a professional officer corps was going to handle itself in the field.
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