章節 55: Chapter 49 - Distant Bloodshed
23 AC
Aegon Targaryen
"Is this seriously happening?"
"I am afraid so, Your Grace."
Aegon Targaryen grumbled under his breath. It was so easy to take the ruling peace for granted when it was enforced by living forces of nature. And yet despite the lack of large-scale wars between kingdoms and nobles, there still remained a few minor disputes here and there that had to be mediated or forcibly stopped.
This time it was a large-scale civil strife between nobles of the Neck. Despite House Stark sending diplomats to attempt to smooth things out or inform them of the consequences, bloodshed prevails and almost every single party involved refused to put down arms.
What's more, it was a succession of disputes breaking out one after the other in quick succession They soon learned the original cause from Triston Massey's sources: House Blodfeld's growing power.
"So in the end, they decide to act like imbeciles rather than try to better themselves," Aegon remarked dismissively, "And here I thought they respected the word of House Stark enough to not openly disregard it."
"I suspect Torrhen's submission to you damaged that reputation, Your Grace," Triston pointed out, "Their name still carries some respect, just not as great as before."
"What has Torrhen done with regard to this debacle, Triston?" Asked Aegon.
"He has put House Blodfeld in charge of subjugating the Neck. By any means necessary," Triston reported, "Yet I've never seen such obvious illogical factors at work than I have right now."
"Indeed. Their blatant disregard concerning Torrhen's surrender is understandable, but not the fact they willingly resorted to war en masse. And I cannot believe they're ignorant of the fact they planted targets on all their backs," Aegon remarked, "Something or someone is at work here, and I know it."
"Alas, my spiders have failed to determine the identity of this third party," Triston shook his head in frustration, "He evades them like an invisible shadow, and is as tangible as the air."
"Continue your investigations for now, Triston," Aegon commanded, "And… send Eckard Blodfeld a message that he has my authority to crush these rebels, by any means he deems fit."
"Your Grace?"
"At this moment, the rebellion is a direct defiance of royal authority, and I cannot have them running amok," Aegon clarified, "Let Eckard deal with them, and then we can deal with the rest of Sonaria."
"As you say, Your Grace," Triston bowed.
IIOII
Anoburk (Moat Cailin) [1]
Eckard Blodfeld
"So our spies have been successful."
"Indeed, Milord. No one will realise our involvement in their massed border disputes."
Eckard smiled gleefully as he heard the news, happy that Oberyn and all his other men were such competent subordinates. With a few planted documents and colourful insults, forgeries and the liberal use of magic, the nobles of the Gosmerch (The Neck) [2] set upon each other like hungry wolves fighting over a freshly-killed corpse, each eager to oust the other and claim the bounty for themselves.
"And what of House Frey? Any word from our spies there?" Asked Eckard.
"None as of yet, save that preparations are complete and we need only to await the results," Said Oberyn.
"Good," Eckard smiled again, "What of our troops?"
"They stand ready, all ten thousand troops and fifty ships," Oberyn reported, inspecting his clipboard as he spoke, "Our supplies, on the other hand, will last us for only two months; we cannot support so many without more farmland of our own."
Eckard nodded, "Many times I've had to work with far less, save when I obtained money from Arin Rada. This time is no different. We simply have to finish conquering the Gosmerch within that time."
"As you say, Eckard," Oberyn agreed, "Although should we be worried about our enemies to the north?"
"They won't bother committing political suicide like that," Eckard noted with disdain, "Not as long as their name's more important to them."
"Technically as nobles ourselves, we have to pay attention to our image and reputation," Oberyn reminded, "If everyone sees us as barbaric warmongers who don't care for diplomacy and subtlety, we'd be the ones in the wrong, and then everyone else will want to take us down."
"Yes, as much as I hate to admit it, you're right," Eckard relented, "Bloody fucking hell…"
"You seem quite busy, husband."
Eckard turned to face his wife, the Child of the Forest named Leaf. She stood as tall as her husband, and was dressed in very humble robes of high-quality cotton and silk, leaves and twigs intertwined and growing naturally as part of her apparel's design. She offered a gentle kiss on his lips and hugged him, allowing him to relax slightly.
Nowadays the Children were called the Hrocwit, or Voices of the Forest [3], which suited them just fine since the Children were an elder race, and in their words Men were the true children.
"You're extremely tense, husband," Leaf pointed out.
"Is that so?" Eckard asked.
His twitchy smile, his tense shoulders and spine, however, betrayed his underlying emotions, and he relented with a sigh.
"Fine, I'm rather edgy right now," He admitted, "We're about to enter a war for control of the entire Neck, and if anything interferes right now, all our plans will be for nothing, and the other nobles will have reason to knock us down, maybe even take us out."
"For what it's worth, it's also my first time feeling very tense, Eckard," Oberyn added, "I wonder if this is what Grand Duke Rada felt, back when he was just Lord of Arsalm (Swordport)?"
"Probably," Eckard guessed.
"You've made your preparations as best as they could be made, did you not, husband?" Leaf said, "Your men are selected for their talent and experience; they are your men, who you elevated from the dregs of the barrel to the highest peaks of the tallest mountains, men who have been tempered from slag into Winterstíele. They are worth a thousand times more than any men whom these fattened, weak nobles command. Have more faith in them."
Eckard smiled with appreciation, "You know, that was the encouragement I needed."
"And we are always here to lend you my support; you know that," Lead pointed out.
"Sure thing, Leaf. Or should I say Lyanne?" Said Eckard.
As a woman married into nobility, she had to integrate into the upper echelons of society, and while it was easy enough creating a glamour to mask her true appearance, it was much harder for her to learn the Sonarians' mannerisms and social norms, and she had to adopt the name Lyanne in public.
Leaf rolled her eyes. "Call me Leaf when we're at home, at least."
"Sure thing," Smirked Eckard.
Oberyn rolled his eyes.
Eckard idly reached for the handle of his two-handed axe Bilagel [4], a Winter Steel axe that cleaved countless skulls of his enemies in both Essos and Westeros. He relished the day when he could cleave the skulls of his noble rivals, and show them just how useless and worthless antiquated names are in this changing day and age.
IIOII
Arsalm
Arris Rada
Arris had to admit, retirement was exceptionally relaxing compared to all the stressful work that politics and statesmanship entailed. No more dealing with nobles and their masquerades, their brown-nosing and factionalism, no more bullying by more powerful factions, and certainly no more worrying about any amount of inane and important things.
Nowadays all he needed to do was leave things to his son and the rest of his family and subordinates, sip a cup of tea and enjoy the evening sunset and starry night sky.
"Only problem is that it's just so boring…" Arris muttered, smiling wryly at how slow his movements had become, "Ah! If only I was younger."
Aimelia sipped her cup of tea as she finished reading her book, setting it aside and casting a raised brow at her husband.
"You seem pretty spry to me, husband," Aimelia pointed out, "'Wish I was younger', my ass."
"Oh, don't blame an old man for daydreaming," Arris said exasperatedly, "It's one of the few things I get to do during my free time!"
"A commodity we have too much of in our retirement," Said Aimelia.
"Oh fine, be a spoilsport and poke fun at our inactivity," Arris rolled his eyes, before smiling at her, "Well, I suppose this kind of boredom's also good; beats being very stressed all the time."
"True," Aimelia agreed.
Arris's face then lost its smile as he contemplated something else.
"What do you think will become of the Summer Isles after Tarral's assassination?" Asked Arris.
"I don't know enough, but suffice to say I don't think the other kingdoms will stand a chance," Aimelia concluded, "Walano benefitted from a decade of constant military, economic, technological and political reform, and since Tarral already designated and groomed his own niece as his successor, it won't affect the kingdom that much."
"According to Arin, Drusaya was taking the death of her uncle as hard as her father," Arris added, "And with evidence that nobles from other kingdoms were behind Tarral's assassination as he attended peace talks, the Xadoqs will settle for nothing less than total victory."
"Will that mean all the Summer Isles can be united and then counted on as a staunch ally of Dornia, when the time comes?" Arris asked, more to himself than others.
"I can't say," Aimelia admitted, "Druselka retains close relations with us and many contacts in the Ducal Army and Navy, but the Summer Folk might not be so willing to risk their lives in foreign wars."
"No, I suppose they won't," Arris reluctantly nodded, "I suppose all we can hope is if they do choose to help us rather than not."
"I hope they do, or all the work they put into maintaining their alliance with us will be swept away with the tides," Aimelia opined, "Remember what Arin once said? 'Princes who are irresolute usually follow the path of neutrality in order to escape immediate danger, and usually come to grief.'"
"Another quote from Machiavelli," Arris nodded, "He often said that rather than being neutral, it is better to commit to one side rather than commit to none, because if you hesitate and dither in making a decision, both the winners and losers of a conflict will come to dislike the neutral party. Thus, when war next breaks out, both sides will then turn on the neutral party and it will be the ultimate loser."
"A lesson that applies well in the Game of Thrones," Aimelia smiled grimly, "Because the player that reveals himself as a true ally or enemy is the most respected."
"And yet delaying in making a decision is also a valid tactic, especially when the people under you need time to gather more information before making a decision, though overusing it will be counterproductive," Arris said, "I recall having to make a snap decision many times in countering the plots against our household, having to choose who lived and who died to protect our house."
"That being said, there is also value in exercising discretion by staying neutral, because even though committing to a side - especially considering the scenario they lose - can earn one respect, it can also cause much undue harm to the people," Aimelia countered matter-of-factly, "There was the story of the Axis Powers, of how Italy under Mussolini committed while Spain under Franco remained neutral. Italy lost and Mussolini was killed, while Spain was intact and Franco survived."
"I guess in the end, it really depends on the circumstances and the people's feelings," Arris concluded, "Arin chose to commit to the Targaryens because he knew their power was crucial to winning us the war, even though he would have to be beholden to their power."
"On the other hand, it bought him valuable time and prestige to commit reforms one after another, and form alliances with our neighbours and in Daeria," Aimelia added, "The only question is that once we turn against House Targaryen, who among our allies will truly commit to our rebellion?"
"Daeria will be ruled out; they're too far away. The Summer Isles too, given how detached they are from Westeros's affairs," Arris answered, "Our allies in the Stormlands and the Reach, however, will."
"Dregs are always eager to rise to greater heights, with how little they have to lose," Aimelia smiled wryly, "Eckard Blodfeld, especially."
"You think he would join us and meddle in southern affairs?" Arris questioned.
"If he has something to gain, yes," Replied Aimelia, "And don't think Daeria or the Summer Isles will be truly neutral, dear. Don't you know that a great number of their politicians are formerly from Dornia?"
"That is true…" Said Arris, "In any case, I suppose we won't know anything else until the time comes."
"And that is when Rhoynamhari shall reveal her plans for us all," Said Aimelia.
[1] Anoburk - Translates as 'Ancestor's Fortress', which Eckard renamed Moat Cailin once it was fully rebuilt at the twentieth anniversary of Aegon's Conquest. At times it is called Elburg (White Fortress), a more informal name in comparison.
The etymology is inspired by the world 'aelbf', a byword forming 'aelb' (white), 'elba' (elder), and 'alf' ("elf").
[2] Gosmerch - Translates as 'Fertile Borderland', derived from the word 'mearc' being a byword that forms 'march' (border) and 'marsh' (swamp), the name Eckard gave the Neck region.
[3] Hrocwit - The Children of the Forest adopted their new name, not wishing to be called children by the younger races. They have since come out of isolation and made Anoburk - or Moat Cailin - their permanent home, growing their numbers at a rapid pace with the aid of magic and taking Human spouses, integrating into Human society and taking high positions in Eckard's court.
[4] Bilagel - In the Sonarian dialect of the Old Tongue, or Endinaic as Eckard called it, it translates as 'Fearsome Blade'. Forged from the remains of a battleaxe that Eckard made and broke countless times in battle, it was reforged using the latest advances in arcane-smithing. Some say it glows with a tinge of red, presumably from the blood of countless foes he slew.
Its etymology is derived from 'egil' (dread), which is used as a pun as 'agi' (blade edge), which then envokes the name 'bilegi' (Blade and Blade).
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