Osgood
"Who could have foreseen from the ashes of Harren's rule, such a beautiful kingdom would rise forth?" The queen asked of her knight.
In reply, Ser Osgood Stone looked over the God's Eye lake and towards the distant Isle of Faces. "It's pretty enough." He said with a grunt.
Osgood didn't spare the Isle any more attention as he continued to use his eyes to roam around their surroundings, in search of any potential threat to her grace. She had entrusted the care of her persons on him and he was going to carry out that duty even if it shall be the end of him.
"Come now ser," Sharra Arryn said with some mirth in her voice. "I'm sure you have more words to say than that?"
"Not really." Osgood replied with half a grumble. "To me, land is land. I fail to see the beauty that you see, your grace."
"And here I thought I had been able to make less of a brute out of you, Ser Osgood."
"Some tasks are just impossible your grace."
A brute he might be, but he was her grace's brute.
It was a pleasant enough morning on the shores of the Gods Eye. A thin fog had fallen over their locale last night, some of the men had said that it had been thicker earlier in the day, but it had fallen away now. The dew on the grass was heavy enough that it felt as if his leather boots had been spattered by a shower of rain.
Her grace's skirts and that of her two attendants were very much dampened from the dew as evidence.
They had been staying in one of the many fishing villages that seemed to dot around the lake, hardly fitting lodgings for someone of royal blood, but it had been necessary to do so. Their entire presence in this kingdom was to be beneath the notice of King Ronnel and his brother.
Her presence being known here might cause the sort of reaction her grace wouldn't be able to overcome, though it was dependent on how Lady Margaret would be able to continue her mummery posing as her grace.
They might have looked alike, but if one looked hard enough, the differences were stark clear to be seen. And that was not including the fact that King Ronnel and Prince Jonos, if they happen to fall upon her grace's residents would notice the mummery with ease.
"Poor form of King Edmyn to make an old lady wait." She had said.
Osgood couldn't remember the reply he had given her. "It is his daughter's wedding, your grace."
"I know, but you'd forgive an old woman to her grumblings, no?" She had said with good humor. "Though I'd wish he'd make a hurry of it, or at the very least, let Artys send a message or some missive to explain whether he'll meet with me or not."
That had been three days ago. He was sure the wedding between Jon Harroway and Princess Cirilla Tully had already taken place. The villagers had gossiping as much.
'How long do these rivermen take to celebrate a wedding?' He wondered. From experience, he knew that some feasts in the Vale could last for days on end, though most of those happened to be competitions between the brothers.
One game of upmanship after another with no end in sight.
It spoke volumes that this was the sort of constant that he would wish to live to see through the Vale rather than the more accurate assessment of war between the two of them. 'If they continued to compete between the two of them to see who held the longest feast, her grace could very well die a happy woman.'
But wishes tended to not be reflected in reality, no matter how much one wished or prayed. It was simply easier to try and make those wishes happen in reality through one's own acts.
The dowager queen spent most of her time taking walks along the shores of the God's Eye, basting in the serene beauty of the place spoken off in stories that came before the coming of the Andals. Despite the fact that her and her ladies were dressed simply enough, Osgood worried that someone might eventually catch onto their tale of them being nothing more than a band of wealthy travellers.
They had already stayed far too long in this place for his liking. They only had so much time before things could potentially go the way of the seven hells back in the Vale.
Therefore, it was much a relief and a surprise that on the fourth day in this little fishing village, King Edmyn finally made his appearance.
Queen Sharra had gone for one of her walks along the shore once more, and amongst the route she usually took, they had come upon a small enough party of men, sits already waiting and one of them idly fishing.
"Dammit," one of them, a man with red hair, clearly their leader had cursed as he pulled up an empty line from the waters. "Apparently I'm horrible at this."
"Well, it would be quite unfair if you were good at everything coz."
"I am not good at everything Lyam. I just happen to have competent underlings." The red head said as he chided this Lyam fellow some, as he turned his head in their direction. He gave them an idle wave of their hand. "Yo."
Osgood blinked. Yo? What was that supposed to mean? Was that some kind of greeting in these lands? It seemed very informal.
"King Edmyn," the queen spoke, making the hairs that had already stood on end on Osgood's body stand up even more. So, this was Edmyn Tully, one of the giants of the times, perhaps the most prominent out of all them. "A pleasure." She curtsied in greeting.
The Tully king and his party returned the greeting, bowing as they showed her grace the proper majesty.
"A seat, your grace?" Edmyn offered to one of the chairs that had been left to stand idle at the side.
Queen Sharra smiled some at him as she took his offer. "Thank you."
Osgood took this chance to have a look over of the party that the king had brought with him. Six men for a total of seven including the king himself. He noticed that amongst them was Artys who gave him a nod of acknowledgement.
It seemed the younger man had been able to succeed with the task that had been given off him.
"I have to admit," King Edmyn started. "It's not really every day that a queen goes through the trouble of travelling incognito to visit another king. If people knew, tongues might start wagging."
Osgood blinked, did he just insinuate...?
The queen allowed herself to laugh at the bawdy statement that went too far as far as he was concerned. "You have odd tastes then, your grace. From what I hear, your lady wife is young and nubile whilst I'm old and decrepit."
"Decrepit is something of a stretch," the Tully king said, an idle hand scratching at the growth of hairs around his chin. "I'd say that tales of your great beauty are widely deserved."
"Your flattery is much better suited for a younger sort."
He shrugged. "So, what do you want? And don't bandy words. I don't really care for all that much. Just so you know, I really have no plans of involving myself in your troubles. No matter what game Torrhen is playing at."
Osgood frowned at the mention of the northern king. The Stark king was King Ronnel's largest and most powerful supporter by far, after all, what could houses do to that would allow them to match the sheer weight that an entire kingdom would be able to bring to bear?
Queen Sharra's hands tightened some on her skirts. "Is that so?" She said, a certain tightness to her voice that years of faithful service had allowed him to notice despite the pleasant demeanour she had spoken in. "And if I may venture, what game would King Torrhen be playing at?"
The red king shrugged his shoulders once more. "Who knows? I don't really like people trying to involve me in a fight that really doesn't involve me."
"And here I thought the north was the Trident's staunchest ally." The queen replied easily.
"We have an understanding actually, your grace." The one that Edmyn Tully had referred as Lyam said, speaking up for the first time. "We have agreements, yes, but those agreements happen to be all about trade. Nothing about alliances."
"I noticed really." The queen said. "If you were truly allies, a marriage between your houses would have occurred by now."
"The northerners like to keep to themselves." The one called Lyam replied coolly. "Southrons matters don't truly concern them."
"Hm," the queen hummed. "It seems a letter shall have to be written to the Citadel then. Their maps are wrong, the Vale by the looks of things, is in the north. Not the south."
The king of the Trident chuckled. "I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and guess that you don't like Torrhen much."
"My feelings for the northern king I made very clear at my son's wedding when I learned of his machinations. He does nothing more than invite war to the Vale. Brother versus brother. Father against son. He would make the nobility of the Vale into kinslayers!"
Osgood's fist tightened some at the words. The queen had the right of it. The machinations that Torrhen played at would bring war to the Vale and do much as what the queen said. Many of the queen's own supporters had family members that supported either one of the royal brothers.
The fact that they were not actually informants for the queen also brought into question the loyalties of these supporters of the queen herself.
"I feel for you, I really do." The king said with mock compassion. "But the problems that are happening in your kingdom have nothing to do with me. Or my kingdom. I have no bone in this fight."
What exactly did he want? Surely there was more to what he was saying. They were talking of a man that had built himself a kingdom on the ashes of Harren and secured it with the blood of reach and westermen alike.
Was there something at play here that he wasn't picking up on?
"Jonos, my son, emulates you."
The took the king and by the looks of it, many of his compatriots by surprise. "...What?"
"He emulates you." The queen repeated before she took a moment to catch her breath and continue on. "Tales of you have spread far and wide. Mummeries and songs of your own making I hear, have been sang and played throughout the Vale, and perhaps the entirety of the Seven kingdoms. The nobility that supports Jonos look at you as an example of the sort of king Jonos would be and the greatness he would bring to the Vale."
"...What?" Edmyn Tully repeated dumbly again. He blinked for a moment, shaking his head. "That can't be right."
"It seems coz," Lyam began with wry amusement in the inflections of his voice. "Tales of your brilliance have spread far and wide across Westeros and not for the best."
"Shut up Lyam..." The king grumbled. He rubbed at his temple. "I swear, this is what happens when you let people's imaginations run wild, they start making shit up. Does Jonos even know that I'm by far the least martial king on the entire goddamned continent? I mean, if I could, I would have cloistered myself in a septry, but those things happened to be quite hard to find during Harren's rule."
"Your humility does you no favour, your grace, refreshing as it is," the queen said. "What matters is that your reputation precedes you and it is that reputation that Jonos and his supporters use to make him the more appealing and worthier of the Falcon Seat."
A moment passed before the king spoke. "That is by far the stupidest reason I have ever heard in support of a kingship. There's more to ruling than who can swing a sword better."
At that, the queen nodded. "Yes, once upon a time, I had hoped my sons would be able to support each other, to cover their weaknesses. Ronnel is a scholar at heart, a man of great learning who would see the Vale bloom, but falter when it came to moments when steel needs to be drawn. Jonos was to be his sword and most loyal supporter."
"I suppose something went wrong along the way." The king sighed. "And again, that's nice and all to know that I'm role model to kids and all, but really, I still have literally nothing of a bone in this fight." He stood up in his seat then. "Queen Sharra, I feel for you, I really do, but once again, there is nothing for me to fight for in the Vale. No actual interests of any sort. This is a matter between your sons and I really don't think having an intervention on my part is going to be of any help. If Jonos wants that crown I doubt any words I say to him, even if he looks to me as some sort of personal hero of his would make any difference. If he wants that crown, if enough people harp on about him making the better king, then he will go for that crown no matter what I say.
If I was you, your grace, I'd best support the one that would make the better king and from what you say and from what I hear that is Ronnel. He'd have my support. If you are so worried about him not having the stomach for the more bloodier aspects of ruling, then it won't be so bad for you to find someone else that can fit into that task."
Queen Sharra raised an eyebrow. "So, you will not involve yourself in matters concerning the Vale?"
"Yes."
"On your word of honor?"
Edmyn Tully gave the queen a casual look before he spoke. "I wouldn't go that far, your grace."
"You said so yourself that you had no 'bone' in this fight." the queen pointed out. "Why would you not go that far and give your word of honour?"
"Things change." The king replied with an easiness to him that unnerved Osgood. What was he planning in that head of his? "I had a dog once, as a child. Once upon a time it went off into the castle gardens and started digging. Some moments later, it held a bone in its mouth. I'm sure you can understand what I'm saying."
Osgood was sure that the queen understood and so did he. Things changed. He might not care now, but events in the future might very well force him to care.
"Then I understand and thank you for granting me this audience despite the conveniences."
Edmyn Tully gave her one last nod before he turned and left with his party, Artys included. If he was gone for any longer, his role as their informant might as very well be discovered.
"Could that have gone better, your grace?" Osgood said, as he followed her grace back to the village.
"Perhaps, but I shall take this small victory for what it is."
"A small victory?" He asked, an eyebrow raised in interest. He recalled what had happened but did not see where the supposed victory would come from.
"Yes," the queen said, a look of determination on her face. "A small victory. Edmyn's candor for the matter has allowed me to learn much and much more. We now know how to keep him from involving himself in the affairs happening between my sons and for that, we shall have to cast our gaze north..."
Osgood frowned. "He might have been playing his own game, your grace. Rarely are kings or nobility open unless they are aiming for some goal of their own."
"I know," the queen replied with a sigh. "Whether he was truly open with me might be up for some debate, I think he was open and honest enough. He truly does not wish to involve himself in the internal affairs of the Vale. All we have to do is make sure that it stays that way whilst I bring peace to my children."
Osgood nodded. "As you say, your grace."