章 82: 13
Chapter Thirteen
Storm's End
Late 52 AC
Edwell Errol
Aelon, himself, Ser Morden and a few men at arms along with their prisoner, Ser Borros Buckler, had ridden out from Eastwood the day before to answer the summons of their Lord Paramount.
The events of the past few days had him reeling. Even though he was no stranger to battle, the few skirmishes with bandits that he had participated in were nothing compared to the battle that had occurred at the mine against the Buckler forces. The sheer level of brutality and chaos had not been expected by him.
The battle itself had been a blur of action. He remembered the blood, the gore and the panic that gripped him when he had charged into the battle. And yet, it was the aftermath that gave him nightmares.
Seeing the atrocities inflicted by the Buckler forces on Aelon's smallfolk had disgusted him. The piles of rotting bodies ceremoniously dumped on top of each other, the wanton violence and lack of honour, were in direct contravention to the laws of the land and broke the King's Peace in a manner that didn't befit a House as ancient as House Buckler.
He had then resolved that he would do everything in his power to see justice done. Aelon wasn't just an ally or a trade partner, he was his friend. A few years ago, when he had first arrived to conduct negotiations with the young silver-haired Lord, he had not expected much. No one could have foreseen that in but a few years, Aelon Eastwood, the bastard of a bastard, would amass wealth and a measure of power.
He had seen something in the lad though. He had seen his drive, his intellect and his desire for change and innovation; the two of them had bonded over their collective interest in the new methods Aelon had invented and publicized for other houses to use. House Errol was not like other noble houses in the Stormlands. His father had taught him and his brother from a young age that a Lord was akin to a shepherd. The shepherd cares for his flock, and in turn, the flock provides him protection through levies and prosperity through taxes.
Aelon however, took this to another level altogether. Perhaps it was because he had but a few years ago, been one of the smallfolk himself. Whatever the reason may be, the young Lord genuinely cared for his flock. More so than any other noble that he had ever seen. His actions were all aimed towards improving his lands and the lives of the people that called them home.
And the results were tangible. His backwater fief had slowly transformed and was well on its way to becoming a hub of commerce and industry. He had watched with his own eyes, as the young effeminate looking boy, had with his own two hands shaped his lands into something more. He had sparred with him in the yard and seen him grow into a young man, who could stand against him as an equal in sparring. He had ridden alongside him into battle and bloodied his sword by his side.
He could not be prouder to call Aelon his friend.
And he would stand by his side as he faced his toughest challenge yet, dealing with Stormlander politics. Aelon for all his achievements still held a certain naive optimism. A sense of morality and a hope that justice would prevail and that righteousness would triumph over evil. For all that he hoped that it would not be the case, Edwell knew deep in his heart that Aelon would be severely disappointed by House Baratheon.
There was little doubt that Lord Rogar would rule in Aelon's favour. But even then, House Buckler would probably get away with nought but a slap on the wrist and a stern warning. It would not be the justice that Aelon hoped, the young Lord likely knew this already but failed to admit it to himself. House Buckler was an ancient house, with one of its members serving as Castellan to Storm's End. They were powerful and influential enough to avoid strict punishment. This was especially true considering that the adversary here was the newly ennobled House Eastwood.
While Edwell would give his testimony, and it would most definitely carry some weight, he was well aware that his father would not approve of him dragging House Errol into the conflict. House Errol and Bucklers were neighbours as well and enjoyed good relations.
His ruminations came to an end as their party arrived at the gates of Storm's End where they were greeted by the old castellan, Ser Bruce Buckler.
"Lord Eastwood, Ser Edwell, I bid you welcome to Storm's End. I am glad to see you both hale and in good spirits after the nasty business on the border. Lord Rogar awaits you in his solar. He bids you see yourself fresh and then join him. He has ordered that the prisoner be handed over to his custody to await his good judgement." Said the Castellan with a look of disappointment in his eyes as he cast his gaze at the bound form of Ser Borros.
"I am glad to return to Storm's End Ser Bruce, although I wish it were under better circumstances," replied Aelon. He turned to Ser Morden, "Hand over the prisoner and see that the men and horses are tended to good Ser. I shall attend to Lord Rogar in the meantime."
As they parted ways with Ser Morden and the rest of the men, they were escorted to their rooms. The upcoming meeting with Lord Rogar would be interesting, to say the least. For even though he suspected that Lord Rogar would not punish the Bucklers too harshly, knowing Aelon, he would find a way to make them suffer nonetheless.
Storm's End
Late 52 AC
As a servant escorted us to Lord Rogar's solar, I mentally prepared myself for the upcoming meeting. Not only was I meeting my Lord Paramount for the first time, but I was also meeting him in response to arguably the most belligerent incidents that had occurred in the Stormlands in the past few years.
But I was hopeful. Warren had done an excellent job in calculating the damages inflicted upon my lands and people by House Buckler's Actions. I had committed no wrong myself and had ridden to protect my lands and had done so in a manner in accordance with the laws and customs of the Stormlands. In addition to the testimonies of my own men, I also had in the form of Edwell, the son of a noble house to corroborate my accounts. If I were an attorney in the modern world, I would have called this an open and shut case. Yet, my nervousness persisted.
As I entered the Lord's solar, I had to fight to keep my face expressionless. The solar was far larger than my own at Eastwood and several magnitudes more opulent. Rich carpets and tapestries decorated the floor and walls and the furniture was so finely carved that I did not think such skill to be possible without the aid of machines. Mounted on the wall was the stuffed head of stag so large that its antlers were longer than my own arms and then some.
Sitting amidst the obvious display of power and wealth, was none other than Lord Rogar Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and former Hand of the King. He was a heavily built man, tall and with a full beard, with the classic Durrandon look, black of hair and blue eyes. He looked very much like how I imagined Robert Baratheon would look in his younger days.
He looked up and greeted me in a jovial tone, "Aelon Eastwood, it is good to finally meet you."
Remembering the correct protocol, I hastily knelt before him and proceeded to make my way through the noble niceties and protocols that Maester Armon had drilled into my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Edwell did the same.
The heavyset man gestured to us to rise and be seated. As we took our seats, I noted the other occupants of the room. Ser Bruce Buckler and Ser Ronnal Baratheon were also present.
This did not bode well. How was I supposed to air my concerns to and receive justice from Lord Rogar, when a member of the House against which I was raising the dispute, was not just present, but presumably there to advise the Lord. Lady Alyssa's absence was also conspicuous. I had hoped that she would be present during the proceedings as my marriage to Elena meant that she and I were kin of sorts. Although considering that she had just given birth to Lord Rogar's Heir, Boremund Baratheon probably explained her absence.
My musings were interrupted as Lord Rogar spoke, "It is good that you have arrived so promptly, Aelon. I had in fact hoped to speak to you before Lord Buckler arrived. That was a very unfortunate incident at your border. It is my hope that we may resolve this dispute amicably and without resorting to our baser instincts here."
I cautiously pressed, "And how amicably would that be my Lord?"
"Well, it is obviously too early to decide anything. Lord Buckler shall arrive early tomorrow morning and I must of course hear his account as well before reaching any decision, but regardless I wish for this little dispute between the two of you to be resolved in a prompt and amicable manner."
"Perhaps until then Ser Edwell and I can give you our own accounting of the situation so that you may be better informed when Lord Buckler arrives?" I said hoping and praying the Rogar was taking the issue so lightly because he was not actually aware of the extent of fighting and damage that had occurred at the mine.
"But would it be fair to do so in Lord Buckler's absence? We would not want you to entertain any preconceived notions before meeting Bryce," interrupted Ser Bruce.
I suppressed a grimace at that. I had expected some interference from Ser Bruce, after all, he was from House Buckler himself, but based on what I had heard, the man did not have the best relationship with Lord Bryce Buckler. I had hoped that he would not intervene too much on behalf of House Buckler, but it seemed I was wrong.
"I highly doubt that hearing our account a little early would cause any bias in Lord Rogar's mind. His fairness and sense of justice are renowned throughout the Kingdoms," Edwell piped up. Seven bless his soul.
"Proceed Lord Aelon, Ser Edwell, narrate to me your accounting of the events that have brought us here. I shall reserve judgement until I have heard Lord Buckler, but I see no harm in hearing you out today," decided the former Hand.
I held back a smirk of victory as I noted Ser Bruce suppress a frown. Getting to narrate my own account first even in Lord Buckler's presence would have been beneficial. It would have placed Lord Buckler on the backfoot, forcing him to respond and rebut rather than spinning his own stories. However, getting to give our account, a night prior, in Lord Buckler's absence was far better. I would be able to deliver my tale without interruption or rebuttal, and more importantly, it would cement itself in Rogar's mind as he slept on it.
Edwell and I proceeded to spin our tale, we spoke of the attack at the mine, the atrocities inflicted on the smallfolk, the flimsy reasoning provided by Buckler men and the subsequent battle that took place.
Edwell made sure to make specific note of the fact that the Bucklers were the clear aggressors here and that they had broken the law several times when they slaughtered unarmed and helpless smallfolk.
I made sure to stress the sheer scale of damage that had been wrought by the Bucklers. Warren's reports were laid bare on the desk as I explained to the Baratheons how Lord Buckler had sought to and nearly succeeded in crippling my economic strength and therefore the political strength that came from it through House Buckler's wanton violence and hostile taxes.
I made sure to observe the reactions of the Baratheons as we narrated our account. I was not happy with what I saw. Ser Bruce was a consummate politician, and it showed, as his face remained blank and expressionless throughout. Ser Ronnel was an open book and I could see the disgust on his face as Edwell and I described the atrocities inflicted on the smallfolk. What was truly disheartening though, was the fact that Lord Rogar seemed almost bored as I spoke.
Oh, he was undoubtedly angered that Lord Buckler had broken the King's Peace and attacked my lands, even more so when he found out that an anointed Knight and nephew to Lord Buckler had led the charge. But his anger was reserved for just that. The Lord Paramount of the Stormlands was more annoyed by the fact that Lord Buckler had acted without his permission and in a manner that broke the King's Peace, rather than by the fact that innocent smallfolk had been slaughtered.
Questions came forth from the listeners as Edwell and I answered them to the best of our ability. Questions regarding the prisoners, the battle conditions and even the events that followed the battle, amongst others.
Soon, however, our audience with Lord Rogar drew to a close and the Lord Paramount said, "You have given me much to think about Lord Eastwood. House Buckler has much to answer for. I shall have my own men interrogate the prisoner, Ser Borros Buckler as well, to ascertain all the facts. We shall reconvene tomorrow when Lord Buckler arrives and I shall put this matter to bed once and for all. This tension between two of my vassals cannot continue."
As Edwell and I left the solar a few minutes later, I found myself walking the battlements of Storm's End gazing at the waves crashing into the rocks below. While Edwell and I had acquitted ourselves well, the reaction of Lord Baratheon had not been what I had expected. And yet, the Lord had promised that justice would be served and I looked forward to it.
"Lord Eastwood, what a pleasant surprise to find you here," I turned around to see Ser Bruce, who did not look surprised in the least.
"Ser Bruce, recent events have left me with little time for reflection. I found myself wandering. What brings you here so late?"
"Much the same, if I am, to be honest, young man. When you reach my age, you will find that sleep is as elusive as a maiden in a brothel," replied the old man wryly. To be honest with myself, he looked old. Last I had met him almost five years ago, he had seemed still fit and energetic. Now, it seemed his age was finally catching up with him. Even then, I didn't buy his flimsy excuse. Storm's End was a huge castle. And I did not believe in coincidences. He was here to speak to me.
"Perhaps my Lord. But you still possess the vigour and look of a much younger man." I replied as he chuckled.
"You know Aelon, when you arrived here near five years ago, I thought you a precocious young lad, but I never expected to hear much of you again. And yet, these past years, there has been nothing but news flowing from Eastwood. You have done well and risen high."
"Not high enough for your cousin sees to have me brought low," I responded tersely. I was curious as to what the old Castellan wanted from me.
"Aye, this escalation between my own House and yours has left a bad taste in my mouth. I find myself in a difficult position," said the Castellan.
Well, at least he was not beating around the bush. I remained silent even though he must have expected me to ask why.
"You see Aelon, Bryce is my cousin, and although there is much bad blood between us, I find myself duty-bound to aid him. Even then, his actions have brought taint on House Buckler, and I find myself unable to hold back my revulsion at his actions and as Castellan of Storm's End, I must advise Lord Rogar justly." The man continued.
As he continued speaking of the fine line between duty to family and duty to his Lord, I realised what he was getting at. The man wanted something in exchange for not taking his cousin's side when counselling Lord Rogar. Whether this meant that he would remain neutral, or actively argue in my favour, was yet to be seen.
"Let us speak plainly, good Ser. What is it that I can provide to you to better help you decide between your duty to family and your liege." I interrupted him. For the first time since I had arrived at Storm's End, I saw the man let slip some emotion as his eyes widened slightly and a small cunning smile crept onto his face.
"Let us dispense with the pretence then young man. Lord Rogar finds such matters between petty lords tiresome. After serving as Hand of the Kind, there is little here in the Stormlands that piques his interest. He relies on me heavily when deciding such disputes."
"That is what you say, and for all, I know it may actually be true. But it may also be the vain boasts of an old man, with less influence and power since our Lord returned from King's Landing." I replied. A tad aggressive, but I needed him on the back foot.
"But are you willing to risk that?" The man smirked seeing through my rather obvious ploy.
"Let us discuss your price first, good Ser and then I shall decide."
"Well as you may be aware, I have two sons. My eldest is my heir and shall inherit my lands, while my younger lad, Benjen, although recently knighted, would not be in the line of inheritance. You have lands aplenty to grant to loyal knights. Ben is a good lad, raised here in Storm's End and has received a Lord's education from the Maester. He would be a good vassal to you. Grant him some lands, no more than a few villages, enough to keep him comfortable, and I shall be in your debt." The old Castellan finished his proposal.
I considered the proposal. There was some merit to it. While Ser Bruce was old, he was still fit and healthy enough that he would continue to serve as Castellan for a few more years at least. As Castellan of Storm's End, he wielded considerable influence. If he was able to extract heavier punishments and reparations from Lord Buckler tomorrow, that alone would be worth granting his son some lands that were south of Southwood. The lands were decent for farming and there was little in terms of solid administration in the area.
The tension between Lord Bryce and Ser Bruce was an open secret in the Stormlands. It was due to this very reason that Ser Bruce was granted lands near Storm's End by Lord Rogar. I could see why he had approached me. As a new Lord, I had few men in my service and plenty of lands to grant. It was a good move on his end, he snubbed the cousin that he disliked, and at the same time, his younger son would receive lands to call his own.
Just like how Ser Harys implements my policies in my northern holdings while also maintaining law and order, having another landed Knight towards the south to do the same had crossed my mind a few times. I had initially thought of granting these lands to Serwyn, but he proved much too valuable to waste away in the rural areas down south.
Having a well trained, well educated Knight managing some villages down south would vastly improve security and drive development even further. There was of course the risk of him undermining me, but the lands in question were not the most productive, and the population was not that concentrated. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to threaten my position.
As I mulled the idea over, I could see Ser Bruce looking at me expectantly out of the corner of my eyes. Ideally, I would have spent a few days considering the idea before making a decision. Unfortunately, time was not on my side and Lord Rogar was to render his judgement tomorrow.
Even then, I knew I could extract more.
"Not enough Ser Bruce. Even if you were to convince Lord Rogar to inflict the harshest possible punishments on House Buckler, it would be a short term gain for me at best. Whereas your son would find himself holding lands that shall benefit him and his descendants for generations to come. It is not a fair trade," I countered.
"And what would you call a fair trade my Lord?" Asked the old Castellan?
"Well, first of all, the entire matter is contingent on you ensuring that Lord Rogar delivers the appropriate justice tomorrow," I responded.
"And what would you define as appropriate justice?"
"Ten Thousand Gold Dragons in reparations, the excessive taxes on Eastwood goods to be cancelled, a public apology from Lord Buckler in addition to Ser Borros being executed for his crimes against my people," I listed off the demands that Maester Armon and I had prepared.
"Is that all? Or shall I arrange for the Maiden to descend from the Seven Heavens and suck you off as well," scoffed Ser Bruce, "The gold shall not be an issue, that dunderhead Bryce would dismiss any haggling as copper counting anyways although the taxes are difficult. Historically, the Storm Kings have rarely interfered with the way lords tax their smallfolk. A public apology is nigh on impossible. Executing Borros as well would be difficult. While Bryce will undoubtedly not be happy with the lad, he would also consider execution to be a slight against House Buckler's honour. At best I might be able to have him exiled or sentenced to the Night's Watch." The elder statesman responded as he stroked his beard as he spoke.
"I can do without the taxes remaining. It scarcely matters now anyway. I will hardly be trading much with Bronzegate from hereon. Yet the public apology is non-negotiable. On the matter of Borros Buckler, well, the image of him freezing his balls off on top of the Wall does give me some satisfaction but even then, I want his head to roll. But even that is not enough. You shall release Ser Morden from his responsibilities as your spy and I want a tax reduction on excise and customs for all goods traded by the Eastwood-Tarth Trading Company." I added after some thought.
"Ser Morden has not sent me a report on your activities in over a year now. It seems that you have truly gained his loyalty. As far as the other proposal, even proposing such a tax reduction would see Rogar dismiss me for corruption and bribery. But what I can do is something better. Currently, your Eastwood Whisky is classified as a luxury good and is therefore taxed accordingly. I can quietly have it classified as a semi-luxury good like ale is and the tax will reduce by a substantial percentage," replied Ser Bruce with a sly smirk. The man had obviously come prepared.
The part about Ser Morden though left a warm feeling in my chest as I smiled at the fact that the grizzled Master of Arms was truly loyal to me now.
"This is all contingent on you convincing Rogar to deliver the appropriate judgement tomorrow," I emphasised.
"Indeed." He held his hand out for me to shake, "Do we have a deal, Lord Eastwood?"
I reached out and shook his hand, "We do."
The next day, I found myself walking to the Audience Hall in Storm's End. The morning had passed in a blur once I was informed that Lord Bryce Buckler had arrived at Storm's End along with fifty men at arms. An obvious show of force considering that I only had ten men at arms accompanying me.
Last night's conversation with Ser Bruce was still fresh on my mind as I entered the Hall and found that I was one of the last to arrive.
Lord Rogar, Ser Ronnel and Ser Bruce sat on the high table. Standing before them was a heavy set, stocky old man dressed in a fine doublet with the Buckler crest on it. Undoubtedly, that was Lord Bryce Buckler. Also present in the Hall were a few other finely dressed men who could only be members of the Lord of Bronzegate's retinue.
Of my party, Ser Edwell, Ser Morden and my men at arms stood tall as they defiantly stared down the angry glares of the Buckler party. As I entered the Hall, I caught Ser Bruce's gaze and he nodded at me. It seemed he didn't re-engage on our deal. I quietly nodded back.
I saw the old Castellan lean over to Lord Rogar and nod in my direction. The Lord Paramount saw me and gave me a nod of recognition and gestured to me to approach.
As I made my way through the hall, towards my party, others took note of my presence. Hushed whispers filled the hall as the Buckler men and the members of the Baratheon Court began to mutter quietly amongst one another.
I reached my men and gave a subtle nod to Sers Morden and Edwell. This was it. The next few minutes would be critical to the future of House Eastwood. I had already proven myself on the battlefield with my victory over Ser Borros. House Eastwood's economic strength was rapidly growing and plainly visible to all concerned. If I were to triumph here as well and see Lord Buckler punished, it would prove that I had the political power and influence to match my economic and martial prowess.
I finally turned to look at Bryce Buckler, the Lord of Bronzegate, and recently, the single largest pain in my arse. He was already glaring at me, his eyes hateful and his nostrils flared in anger.
He was a middle-aged man, likely in his early forties, with black hair and brown eyes. I could see him sizing me up, probably deciding that he could take me in a fight. Which he probably could. But that was the problem with Lords like him. Martial prowess meant everything to them and caused them to dismiss the finer details of lordship and administration as copper counting.
Regardless of whatever the result of today's audience might be, that was something I meant to take advantage of. House Buckler had invaded my lands and slaughtered my people. I would see them beggared and bankrupt within my lifetime.
"Lord Buckler, I wish I could say that it is an honour to finally make your acquaintance, but that would be a lie. For the sake of peace between our houses, I offer you a chance to settle the matter without involving Lord Rogar, pay the reparations as demanded for the damages inflicted on my lands and people by your men, tender an apology and cancel the excessive taxes placed on my lands, and I shall consider this matter closed and we need not waste Lord Baratheon's time," I addressed the Lord of Bronzegate, extending an olive branch as protocol dictated.
"I would rather see my House attained and my daughters working in fields than apologise to a bastard who does not recognise his betters. You are a stain on the nobility of the Stormlands, Eastwood. Crawl back to your whore mother's teats now boy, the men are talking." He sneered as he turned to address Lord Rogar.
"Lord Buckler! You shall hold your tongue lest I rip it out! If you cannot conduct yourself with honour and dignity, then begone from Storm's End. Lord Aelon was ennobled by my hand, for the heroic actions of his father, you insult him at your own peril," thundered Lord Rogar, genuine anger seeping into his voice.
Rage boiled within me as well as I clenched my fists at Buckler's words. I scarcely recalled my mother in this new world, I knew little of her aside from the fact that she had died when I was young. But the fact that Bryce Buckler, after everything he had already done, still had the gall to insult my mother, that too in front of Lord Rogar and his court made my blood boil. I vowed that I would see the man down on his knees before me one day, begging for my mercy.
Beside me, I saw Edwell nearly unsheathe his sword in response to Buckler's insult, Ser Morden growled and took a step forward in Bryce Buckler's direction, seeming as though he would rip the man's head off with his bare hands, even as my men at arms stirred in anger. I held up my arm and stopped them.
"Lord Baratheon, I have come here today to seek justice. Justice for the unparalleled destruction wrought on my lands by the worthless curs of House Buckler. On the orders of Lord Bryce Buckler, these poor excuses for men invaded my lands, slaughtered, beat and raped my smallfolk, under the pathetic excuse of some rights to a mine that clearly falls in my lands," I addressed the Lord of Storm' End in a resounding voice, barely restrained anger slipping through as I spoke.
"Indeed Lord Eastwood, I would proceed if all parties here shall promise to maintain their dignity and comport themselves in a manner befitting their station." He said as he looked pointedly at Bryce Buckler.
The former Hand continued, "I have already heard Lord Eastwood's account…"
"Filled with lies and mistruths undoubtedly my Lord, as expected as of a lowborn bastard.." Interrupted Buckler.
"Which has been verified and corroborated by his companion, Ser Edwell Errol, son of Lord Adam Errol, who rode into battle alongside him," The Lord Paramount glared as he spoke over the Lord of Bronzegate, who paled slightly when he realised that with Edwell's testimony, his chances of wriggling out had reduced drastically.
"Add to that the fact that your nephew, Ser Borros Buckler, who was captured by Lord Eastwood himself, has confessed to the crimes levied against him and stated that he did so on your orders, does not paint a good picture for House Buckler? What say you Bryce?" said the Lord Paramount.
My eyes widened at that little tidbit. My men and I had tried to get Ser Borros to confess, but the rat bastard had adamantly remained silent. I looked at Ser Bruce, and as our eyes met I saw the ghost of a smile flash across his face before it disappeared again. I laughed internally as I realised that the cunning old man had something to do with it.
My eyes were not the only ones wide at hearing that. Bryce Buckler in particular looked like he had swallowed a whole lemon as he slowly realised that the situation was not as much in his favour as he would have preferred it to be.
"My Lord, I ordered no such thing. Yes, I did order Borros to take the men and stake claim to the mine. The mine's vein reportedly runs deep my lord. It also enters Buckler lands. My Lord, I gave no order for bloodshed. In fact, I specifically ordered my nephew and the men to not shed blood in any circumstances." The Lord of Bronzegate blustered as he flushed with anger and indignance.
The Court of Storm's End was abuzz with whispers, as they silently judged the Lord of Bronzegate. I decided to drive in the final nail in the coffin.
"And yet bloodshed occurred my lord. Two scores of men, women and children are dead. Of the surviving women, most were beaten and raped. The village lies burnt and in ruins due to the actions of your men. If you ordered no bloodshed, my Lord, then why did your men commit those actions? Is the control of House Buckler over its men at arms so weak that they would so wilfully defy your orders?" I said as I backed the older Lord into a corner.
"I do not have to stand here and take these insults from a green boy. House Buckler has marched to defend these lands since time immemorial my Lord. I would hear from my nephew himself as to what happened," responded the belligerent Lord.
"As is your right, Lord Buckler. Bring forth the prisoner." Commanded Lord Baratheon.
As the guardsmen went to fetch Borros Buckler, I took the time to observe the gathered crowd. Most were whispering and muttering amongst each other and it was difficult to glean how they felt about the ongoing proceedings. Buckler on the other hand was visibly nervous. He had not expected Edwell's testimony nor the fact that his nephew would confess. To be fair, I had not expected that either. There were rules for the treatment of highborn prisoners. With Borros, I could not employ the more creative interrogation techniques known to my men.
A few minutes later, the crowd parted and a visibly tired and bedraggled Borros Buckler was led into the Hall. He tried to stand proud and defiant, but it was plainly visible to anyone with half a brain that there was an undercurrent of fear and nervousness about him. As he entered, I saw Lord Buckler glare at him with murder in his eyes, obviously disappointed and enraged at his actions.
That did give me pause. Perhaps the Lord of Bronzegate had ordered his nephew not to shed blood. He was not a stupid man. Belligerent, brash, arrogant and a twat he may be, but Bryce Buckler was not stupid. It seemed more likely that he had ordered his nephew to stake claim to the mine through a show of force than wanton slaughter. Regardless, it mattered not, the damage had taken place regardless of the intention. If Lord Buckler had been less belligerent and more remorseful, I may have adopted a different approach, but his atrocious behaviour had not done him any favours here. The man would pay.
My attention was drawn away as Lord Baratheon spoke, "Ser Borros Buckler, you stand accused of many crimes to which you have confessed. You are called upon here to deliver your account and stand judgement."
Ser Borros Buckler, trembled as he nervously knelt before Lord Rogar, his eyes fixed on the floor, as he desperately looked anywhere but at his uncle, who in turn stood furiously at the side. And then, he spoke.
"My Lord, these past few years, the actions of Lord Aelon Eastwood have greatly rankled my uncle, Lord Bryce Buckler. In response to his offences, my Lord Uncle commanded me to take his men at arms and stake our claim to the mine on the Eastwood border and seize it in the name of House Buckler, under the pretence that the vein stretched into Buckler lands. He ordered me to avoid bloodshed, but during our takeover of the village fighting broke out. My men were enraged and I got knocked off my horse. When I woke, I saw that my men were slaughtering the smallfolk and sacking the village," spoke the disgraced Knight, in a manner that seemed almost rehearsed.
"So you say that Lord Buckler ordered no slaughter, that the violence and bloodshed was the folly of your men?" interrupted Ser Ronnel.
"Aye, my Lord."
"You see my Lord, I gave no order for bloodshed. It was the heat of the battle. The smallfolk attacked my men who were lawfully and peacefully staking my claim and my men simply defended themselves," The Lord of Bronzegate saw fit at this point to add his two cents.
"Then what of the consequent slaughter. Your men hunted down, captured and killed several other smallfolk as they tried to escape. Or was that your men's folly as well? Bear in mind that as per your own men's testimony, they claim that they did so on your nephew's orders," added the Baratheon Knight as he looked to Borros Buckler for confirmation.
The kneeling Knight trembled but said, "No my Lord, that was at my order."
The man offered no justification. He knew that no reasoning would justify his consequent actions.
"Lord Buckler, while you may not have ordered the slaughter yourself, as Lord of Bronzegate, you are still responsible for the actions of your nephew and men at arms. Furthermore, you unlawfully trespassed on Lord Eastwood's lands, when you ordered your men to cross the border and seize the mine. And it was a seizure, my Lord, not just staking a claim, as per your nephew's testimony. You had no right to do so," Lord Baratheon said as he retook control over the proceedings. The man had a pronounced frown on his face and did not appear to be happy with the conduct of House Buckler.
"I had every right, my Lord. Since the times of the Storm Kings, the Stormlord's have settled these disputes through strength of arms-"
"And the Storm Kings are Dead, Lord Buckler," Rogar Baratheon thundered at this point, "House Baratheon rules the Stormlands now, in the name of King Jaehaerys Targaryen, and you broke the King's Peace. If you had a claim to the mine, you should have brought it to the attention of your Lord Paramount and not undertaken actions that resulted in you infringing upon the lands of House Eastwood."
The Hall was silent as Lord Baratheon finished his tirade, his enraged voice still echoing through the Hall. Bryce Buckler stood wide-eyed and fearful in the centre, the realisation that the proceedings were not going to end in his favour finally dawning upon him.
Ser Bruce took the opportunity to hammer the final nail into his coffin, "Lord Rogar, my cousin has made an error in judgement, that is clear as day. It is evident that he gave no order for bloodshed and that the consequent violence was, although unfortunate, unintentional on his behalf. I have spoken to my nephew, and Ser Borros is willing to take the Black to atone for his crimes and regain his honour."
"Is that so Ser Borros?" questioned the Lord Paramount.
"Yes, my Lord," replied the miraculously repentant Knight.
"Then so shall it be, Ser Borros Buckler shall be escorted to the Wall so that he may take his vows as a brother of the Night's Watch."
"And what of House Buckler my Lord, Lord Buckler is equally responsible for the actions of his nephew and his men," I added.
"On that note my Lord, I have had a look at the numbers submitted to me by Lord Aelon and they are by my assessment, fairly accurate. It is my recommendation that Lord Buckler pay as reparations to House Eastwood a sum of ten thousand gold dragons for loss of life and damages and for trespassing on the lands of Eastwood." Ser Bruce piped up.
"And an apology for his actions my Lord. House Buckler has wronged House Eastwood greatly my Lord, an apology would not be remiss," I addressed Lord Rogar as I directed a glare at Bryce Buckler.
"An apology, the Seven Heavens will fall before I apologise to an up jumped bastard like you," Buckler replied with a sneer on his face.
"That is enough Bryce! I have had it with your blatant disrespect and belligerence long enough. That is thrice now that you have disrespected Lord Aelon in my hall, and by extension myself. Your nephew will go to the Wall, you shall make no more overtures on the mine or any other part of Lord Eastwood's lands, you will pay ten thousand dragons to House Eastwood as reparations for House Buckler's actions and tender him an unconditional apology for your actions as well as your behaviour!" Bellowed the Lord Paramount as the fury that his House was renowned for burned in his eyes.
"But my Lord…," the Buckler mumbled with a grimace.
"If you do not, if you dare disobey my orders, you shall join your nephew at the Wall. Am I clear!"
"My Lord please-" The terrified lord blubbered at the enraged Rogar.
"Am I clear!" The shouting ended abruptly as the Baratheon lord's rage turned cold. His voice cut across the hall.
"Yes my Lord," said the defeated lord.
And that was that.
Storm's End
Late 52 AC
Aelon
I stood on battlements of Storm's End as I had last night when Ser Bruce had approached me. Unlike the previous night, I was not here tonight by happenstance. A servant had arrived in my quarters a few hours after the audience with Lord Rogar and discreetly delivered a letter from Ser Bruce asking me to meet him here at this time.
I stood silently on the battlements as I contemplated the events of the day. Justice had been served, and yet it left a bitter taste in my mouth. While Borros Buckler would spend the rest of his days on the Wall, the remaining Buckler men whom I had captured were to be handed over to Lord Buckler as part of the reparations that he would pay to face his judgement. The same men who had participated in the slaughter of my people would essentially be let off scot-free. The taxes that had started this dispute would still stand.
Oh, there was no contest that I had won. But I was also under no illusion that if it were not for Ser Bruce somehow wrangling a confession out of Ser Borros and exerting his influence otherwise, the audience with Lord Rogar would have ended very differently. Ser Borros as a Knight would have claimed that his men were attacked and that all consequent retaliation had been in self-defence and he would have gotten away with nought but a slap on the wrist. Lord Buckler would have paid a paltry fine and House Eastwood would look weak for being unable to match the political strength of the Bucklers.
Edwell had been right. For some naive reason, perhaps the remnant of my modern sensibilities, I had actually believed that justice would prevail considering the mountain of evidence I had on my side.
I would need to be more careful from now on. With the growth of my industry in the Stormlands, as well as my trade now expanding to other regions as well, I would need to cultivate allies in Storm's End as well as in King's Landing if I wished to protect my interests from competitors, jealous lords and greedy courtiers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ser Bruce as he made his way towards me.
"Lord Aelon, what a lovely surprise to find you here again," Said the elder Knight with a light smirk on his face.
I rolled my eyes, "It's almost as though I was summoned here by someone to meet under the cover of night to discuss politics and subterfuge."
The Castellan let out a light chuckle, "I hope that today's proceedings were to your satisfaction."
"It seems that you are a man of your word, good ser," I responded as I leaned against the wall.
"Then all that is left to be seen is whether you are a man of your word as well, my Lord."
I retrieved a sheet of paper from my pocket and handed it to Ser Bruce.
"That is a rough map of the lands to be granted to your son. The lands lie to the southeast of Southwood and are home to a dozen or so small villages and settlements. The lands are fertile and Ser Benjen's incomes shall be sufficient for him to build a small keep and sustain himself and his family comfortably."
"This is rather generous. Beyond the terms of our initial deal," said the Castellan as he examined the map in his hands.
"You delivered on your end Ser Bruce, quite magnificently if I may so myself. Consider this a gesture of my appreciation, as well as an olive branch, so that we may work together in the future to further the interests of House Eastwood and its newest vassal." I said leaving the implications of my statement plainly clear.
"Indeed, my Lord, there is much that can be done to build greater ties between Storm's End and Eastwood," replied the canny old Knight as he immediately caught on to the implications of what I was suggesting.
During the audience, he had been extremely careful to maintain relative neutrality, while working towards our deal behind the scenes. But Lord Bryce Buckler did not strike me as a man who would take kindly towards his cousin maintaining neutrality in this case. Undoubtedly, Bruce had burnt a few bridges with House Buckler in order to secure his second son's future.
However, a close relationship with the Eastwood-Errol-Tarth bloc that I was slowly building would benefit all the parties involved.
"For the purpose of appearances, I obviously cannot grant Ser Benjen the lands immediately lest it reflect poorly upon us. Perhaps we can effect the deed in six to eight turns of the moon."
"Fair enough my Lord. For similar reasons, I will be unable to implement the taxation change for Eastwood Whiskey for a few turns of the moon as well," replied Ser Bruce, the implication clear. He would only have Eastwood Whisky declared as a semi-luxury good after I granted his son the lands.
"That should not be an issue," I responded.
"Very well my Lord. I shall take your leave then. It has been a long day and my old bones require some much-needed rest."
I nodded at him and turned to leave before a thought occurred to me.
"Ser Bruce, one last thing, regarding Ser Borros, how exactly did you get him to confess?"
The Castellan grinned as he turned to look at me, "Oh not much my Lord, I just reminded him of how he had miserably failed in carrying out his uncle's order, brought immense shame to House Buckler and that if he did not confess to his crimes, I would have to recommend that he be handed over to the tender mercies of Bryce for his punishment. After that, the poor lad was rather willing to recount all his crimes as long as I ensured that he would be directly escorted to the Wall by Baratheon men and not be handed over to his Uncle's custody."
I laughed.
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