The Merman Knight
"A good day for a race, no?" Glen Manderly asked, enjoying the warm kiss of the sun upon his skin.
With the way the gentle breeze made the branches and leaves dance he could almost find a sort of beauty that would be alien in the lands of the north. In his own way, despite pining for the warmth of White Harbour, he had come to like his stay in the southron lands of their erstwhile Tully friend.
Glen caught Ser Roland Royce frowning at him some.
"Ser Glen," the Royce knight began. "I thought this ride was to take us away from prying ears, not races."
Glen felt that Ser Roland would be most served in taking his time and enjoying the scenery. With all the news he had about the situation in the Vale, the merman knight would have thought that he would need of something to relax himself before diving in head first back into the tense miasma of the eastern kingdom.
"Can it not serve both?" He asked in good humour.
"Ser Glen."
Apparently, he had asked in not good enough humour.
"Come," he said as he kicked at the side of his horse lightly. "Let us talk whilst we ride."
His horse might have started moving out of the blue, but a quick glance back from the edges of his vision, he could already see that the Vale knight was already following behind him, doing well to match the pace of his own horse with that of his.
They rode in silence for a few moments, enjoying the kiss of the sun upon their skin, well, Glen was doing that, but he supposed his companion was a bit to tense for that sort of nonsense. Around them, he noticed the hunting party that they had accompanied was busy amongst themselves, gossiping, plotting or anything else other men of high birth with far too much time did.
Much like himself as of now, really.
"How did your conversation with our good host go?" He asked, eventually.
Ser Roland grimaced from beside him. "Truly? Not well. He was kind enough, but I know a rejection when I hear of it. He would hear nothing of supporting the rightful king of the Vale."
"I'm not surprised." Ser Glen replied, the cry of a hawk as it swooped down upon an unsuspecting rabbit catching his attention for a moment. "In my time in Riverrun, I have come to learn from the lord himself and the people around me that he deigns to involve himself in matters that do not affect him or the stability of his kingdom. The current crisis in the Vale neither meets any of his requirements to gain his attention."
"King Ronnel offered good terms for his support." The Vale knight bit out. He did well to keep the frustration. "The marriage of his heir to his youngest daughter. Trade agreements and honours, promises of aid if the Trident is to march to future wars but he wasn't moved in the slightest!"
There was a certain inflection to his voice that attracted much of Ser Glen's interest. "We talk as allies here, Ser Roland. My king told me of my duties here in Riverrun and to offer you any aid to help you with your task. So speak to me truthfully, does King Ronnel not wish to marry Prince Artys to Princess Triss?"
He made a good show of it, looking aloof and all. "What makes you ask that?"
"The way you spoke," he began slowly and carefully, not happy at being tried to made like a fool. "There was frustration in your tone and a little scorn as well. Especially to the mention of the young princess. What harm has a little girl brought upon your persons?"
He had met little Princess Triss. She was a marvellous little girl truly, full of energy and bright spirits. In fact, he had written to the king pleading for him to try and betroth Prince Brandon, his grandson and the heir of his own heir to the young girl. Closer ties to the rising power of the age could not truly hurt.
He wished King Ronnel all the best, but Glen was of the mind that Princess Triss or even the two princes could best be served marrying northern princes or princesses.
"No harm. None at all." Ser Roland answered with a sigh. "It's just what damage such a union would bring upon his grace. We have already lost the Templetons, along with their swords and influence. We cannot hope to lose any more."
Ser Glen frowned for a moment. "The princess is a follower of the Faith."
"Yes," the knight nodded. "But which one?"
Ah. "I see." Ser Glen said with a nod of understanding. "But with the support of Edmyn and the Army of the Trident along with that of King Torrhen would more than make up for it, no?"
"His grace would lose influence among his lords and people would talk amongst themselves of how the north or the Trident truly rule the Vale. The Vale would know nothing but war." He shook his head. "No, I counselled the king against the match, me and many of his leal lords and ladies."
It seems that Ser Roland was revealing to him more than he should have. From what he had just said, it was easy enough for the merman to note that it could be easily taken that King Ronnel was desperate for support.
Which was strange, from what he understood, most of the principal banners of the Vale supported Ronnel, unless the situation had changed.
Somewhere in the woods, hunting hounds barked along with the whooping and cries of men as they chased down their prey. Ser Glen decided to bring forth a path for them to follow. "Tell me, do you know of how Edmyn came upon his throne?"
The Royce knight let out a laugh that almost seemed like a scoff. "Of course, the tale is told more than enough times by singers and mummers alike. He defeated Harren and the lords of the Trident soon proclaimed him king."
"Aye," the merman began with a nod. "He was elected king. Edmyn came to his kingship by election from the houses of his future realm. Do you know, in the north, occasionally, the wildlings band underneath one so called king-beyond-the-wall."
Ser Roland frowned. "What do savages have to do with anything of the matters of import that we are talking about?"
"Some understanding." The merman said, holding back a sigh. The knight was impatient, that was for sure. "As I was saying, the king-beyond-the-wall is either created through force of arms or through diplomacy and charisma."
The look of disbelief on Ser Roland was one that had to be seen to be believed. "Nonsense. Savages have no need for diplomacy. They don't even have the concept of civilisation amongst themselves to understand such a notion. The only diplomacy that they understand is that of the sword and axe."
This was beginning to tire him, but he had a duty and he was going to carry it out. He carried on as if the knight hadn't spoken and cut him off. "When this happens, through either skill of arms or diplomacy, as basic and barbaric as it is, the king-beyond-the-wall has to be able to balance all the different tribes that had been fighting against each other carefully. He has to listen to them and take into consideration their grievances, wants and needs."
"Again, what does talk of northern savages has to do with our current situation?"
Green eyes glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. Did Ser Roland just call him a northern savage? He felt so very tempted to tell him the difference between a wildling and a northmen. At the very least, he had context of the conversation.
Any other outside listener could have very well come to the wrong conclusion.
"King Edmyn was elected." He began slowly. Perhaps if he spoke slowly and in a deliberate enough manner, the knight would then be able to come to understand him? "He did not become a king through conquest like the Arryns, Lannisters, Durrandons, Gardeners, Starks or Martells. His lords made him king and thus, if enough of them speak out, he has to listen to them. If it was not for them, he would have no throne to sit upon."
He waited for a moment, looking at the knight, praying to the old gods and new that at the very least, he would be able to understand where he was going with his words.
The knight blinked as a light of realization hit him. Eventually.
"I see..." Ser Roland began, slowly nodding his head. "It should not be the king I'm petitioning, it should be his lords."
"Get enough of them on hand, and it will certainly become a subject that he shall have to take into consideration. What is made even better is that in a few moons time, the king holds a gathering of his lords, they call it a 'congress' where they come and debate about matters of the realm."
"That seems like an unnecessary large council." The knight noted, a look of confusion on his face.
"My thoughts exactly, at first until I learnt of the genius behind the move." The merman said with a chuckle. "Though it has strengths, it has its weaknesses as well. You are in luck that I have been working to court us enough support for the subject to be brought up, but we do not have enough support to actually make it a priority for the king."
At the mention of support, the knight had most certainly perked up a little. "Who?"
"The Blackwoods." The knight grimaced at Ser Glen's answer and he shrugged nonchalantly. "Though they may not be of the north, King Torrhen prioritised that we befriend that house more so than any other. They themselves wield considerable influence in the Vale, but not enough for our goals."
"I mean no disrespect good ser, but it's bad enough having followers of the old gods as the main power behind King Ronnel. We need loyal followers of the Faith."
"And from that, I presume the right Faith then?"
He nodded as if the question even had to be asked. "Of course."
"Then it that case, I suggest we strike for the southern lands. Though a new house rules Stoney Sept, it follows the Faith of your particular colouring," It brought no end of amusement and puzzlement to Glen as to why the Vale knight, despite seemingly needing the support of King Torrhen, even before Ronnel's marriage to Princess Lyanne, he had been lacking in popular support amongst his own lords. Why where they so prickly about allies? Nonetheless, this mummery needed to be played and he shall do so. "then we must also try and garner support from the likes of the Buckwells, Stokeworths and Rosbys. Lord Buckwell is the minister of commerce, bring to him talk of all the potentials of wealth and business that can be given to the Trident, to his house."
"Matters of counting copper." The knight said with derision. He shook his head. "A lord acting in such a manner."
"Matters that are important to him as the man tasked with bringing wealth to the kingdom."
The look of derision was still in his eyes but he nodded nonetheless. "What of the Darklyns?"
At that, he shook his head. "Lord Willem is too close to the king. He will tell of our plans, even if he is the lord of the largest port in the realm."
Something garnered Ser Roland's attention at his words. "About that, is Lord Blackwood not also in the king's council?"
"But not as close as he is to Lord Darklyn, but some of the houses that orbit in the lands around his could very well lend their voices to our cause."
So, they began to make plans of their next course of action. He had spent years in Riverrun and Tully lands. He had come to meet many of the lords he spoke of, at feasts at gatherings, at tourneys, at mummer's plays. He knew them well.
He knew which ones would be easily swayed to throw their support to them. Which ones would need a little more strength and promises. To the ones that would most not likely bend.
At the end of it all, with all of their plans, he couldn't help but think that they would still not have enough voices, something else would need to be done. They needed something more, so he was left to his own devices to think of what that more could very well be.