Edmund knew who it was before they had even taken a word to speak. "Not going to enjoy the festivities, son?" King Mern IX Gardener asked he came to a stop beside his son, his back resting on the railings that looked out over the expansive grounds of Highgarden.
Edmund felt the urge to sigh, but kept it back in the presence of his father. "I was enjoying the festivities, then the High Septon started speaking." He shook his head and looked at his father, taking in the close-cropped hair and beard and the green eyes that held a gentle warmth as he looked back at him. "Really, father?"
The king let out a bark of laughter that could have made him jump. "Well, these little theatrics are important in their own little ways. We'll drive up support for the coming campaign in this manner."
The theatrics Edmund's father was talking about were the apparent heresy, rampant corruption and debauchery that was according to him, a daily occurrence happening in the new kingdom that had been found over a decade ago. He had railed on and on about those crimes, about the lords that did nothing and resisted the urge to turn away from their sinful ways.
Honestly, he was more than a little surprised that the High Septon had been able to talk about the sins of the riverlanders with what he knew about the man himself. His Hightower wife was quite privy to some of the more... mundane interests of the High Septon.
In truth, it was nothing more than a blatant reach for power and influence by the Faith and more land for the kingdom.
At his last thought, Edmund couldn't help but frown. "Father, we already have enough land. The Reach is the largest kingdom barring the north. We have no need for more land. Can we even keep it if we do?"
His father placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "It's not about land for the kingdom, son." Gentle eyes looked down at him, youthful despite. "It's about finally bringing an age of peace to these southern lands. Think of it son, a united southron kingdom. That has never been done before."
"You mean to bring an age of peace through war?" He asked, an eyebrow raised at the paradox of such a goal.
King Mern chuckled some, shaking his head. "Stop trying to find little holes in my words, son. The next King of the Rock will be kin to us Gardeners, that will be two out seven kingdoms with our blood running through them."
"If you merely wished to tie us through marriage, I hear the riverlander king has a son and a daughter. You could have easily offered a marriage between our two Houses."
His father nodded. "It was a thought that came to mind, but I discarded it. I plan on solidifying our alliances with the Rock and Westerlands by offering marriages to houses of great repute and influence there. The Reynes, Baneforts, Sarsfields, Crakehalls. All of them."
Edmund's lips twitched. "You plan on planting a field of flowers, don't you?"
His father grinned widely. "After all, a field planted by a green hand tends to bloom mightily, no?" He looked in the direction of the wide flowing Mander. "And anyway, a little war will help us toughen our men for when we eventually turn our sights to the stormlands. The riverlanders are a fractural people, all we will have to do is turn them against each other and fight whoever is left." He shook his head in good amusement. "I mean, those bloody idiots were underneath the reign of the ironborn for decades! Decades! Some fools who can't even stand a proper charge by the Chivalry of the Reach were able to rule that land for over a century! Think of how easy it will be for us!"
"So, this entire war, is to make us ready for when we war with the stormlands?"
The king nodded. "Aye, son. Unfortunately, Argillac has men who have tasted battle and come out victorious. They'll have more experience than any levies or chivalry we'll throw at them. I'm sure we would be able to win a war by drowning them in bodies, but I would rather not use such a wasteful strategy. I rather they be able to hold themselves well in a fight and improve our chances of victory twofold. A good general makes sure that his army is most prepared for any kind of conflict as best as he can or he is no good general at all."
Edmund felt the urge to shake his head at his father's words. He spoke of wasting men, yet he was willing to fight against one kingdom to harden his men for another future war? Could he not hear what he was saying?
"The Dornish, let alone the stormlords will just allow us to do as we pleased." He feared for the southern borders.
Even if the Faith preached to the Dornish to send men, coin and supplies for this little war of theirs, the Dornish were most likely to just ignore them and continue living their debauched lives, at best. At worst, they might even launch an invasion of their home simply because they smelled blood in the water.
"I'll have the Peakes and Tarlys keep an eye on them. Between Lords Gawen and Luceon, they will be able to contain the threat."
"What of the stormlords?" Edmund pressed. "Lords Gawen and Luceon are able, but that only covers the threat from the south."
"Son," Father smiled at him. "Believe me when I say this, I have thought of this very thoroughly. I forget nothing." He threw an arm around him and began to lead him back inside. "Now, come on, let's hear what mummery the High Septon has in store for us. Say what you will about the men, but he sure can talk!"