-Chapter 97-
-POV Aemon Targaryen-
The voice of the young man who asked me this question surprised me, causing me to pause for a few seconds before finally nodding at one of my knights to fetch bread and salt for my "guests."
'Anyway, with Urrax, everyone in the Vale is within my reach. I can get to them at any moment; it doesn't make much of a difference,' I thought as I continued forward, keeping the "courage" of that young man in mind.
Upon arriving in the Great Hall, I nodded to my great-uncle, present against all expectations, as I honestly didn't think he would come.
'Especially not after our little altercation,' I thought, still irritated by our recent clash.
'I can't wait for Gunthor to return. Without him by my side, I'm the one left dealing with this old man's tantrums,' I thought, eager for my uncle to arrive at Runestone.
'Though I could do without Gerold,' I mused, recalling Gunthor's grumpy brother.
'He's even worse than his father.'
I took my place at the center of the table, slightly distracted, lost in thought, but frowned when I noticed Jeyne Arryn was also at our table.
'What is she doing here?' I wondered, not having requested her presence.
Laena's hand rested on mine, and as I turned to her, I realized she had probably arranged this deliberately.
'Why would she allow her to attend this event?' I wondered, unable to understand the reason for her presence, especially when I was about to lay out the strategy to dismantle the remaining hold Jeyne Arryn had over the Vale.
'And, by extension, the authority of House Arryn as overlords,' I thought, for that was indeed my aim: to demonstrate that House Arryn no longer had a place as suzerain of the Vale.
'She'd be an inconvenient witness, although it doesn't worry me since I'm not hiding my intentions anymore.'
Everyone remained standing, even though I was already seated, and only once I gestured for them to sit did they finally take their seats.
"Serve the dishes," I ordered to the servants already prepared, waiting for my command.
"Why is she here?" I asked, watching everyone focus on their food, the heavy atmosphere I'd instilled slowly dissipating as they realized I had no interest in listening to their idle conversations.
"You did tell me you wanted some kind of assurance to prevent betrayal," replied Laena, using my own words to justify Jeyne's presence.
I frowned, knowing well that by "he" she meant my uncle Arnold. Even if I had indeed said that...
'It was just a slight possibility, born of my semi-paranoid mind,' I thought, looking at Laena, who seemed to take my suspicions about Arnold too seriously.
"Arnold knows his limits," I said, certain that Arnold understood it was best not to play with dragonfire.
"Betrayal often comes from those closest to us. Better to be prepared by securing her support than risk having a traitor in our midst, along with a woman nursing a grudge, waiting for a single opportunity to release it," said Laena.
I rolled my eyes, saying nothing, for she wasn't wrong.
'But she doesn't know everything. Arnold is not the final solution, merely a temporary one.'
---
The banquet went rather well. Everyone ate heartily, and the tension from the beginning of the meal had completely disappeared.
'With one exception,' I thought as I observed my great-uncle.
He hadn't touched his plate, too busy glaring at one of the savages with a thirst for blood that everyone could feel.
'If I do nothing, I can't be sure he won't jump across the table and plant a knife in that man's throat,' I thought.
'It's time for a diversion, or we'll have a dead man on our hands,' I thought.
I took a spoon and tapped it against my cup to get everyone's attention. Gradually, all conversations ceased, except for a giant as tall as Gunthor, but bulkier, who was ripping into a roast pig with frustration.
He only stopped eating when he felt everyone's gaze on him, and I was finally able to explain the reason for their presence.
"Now that we've shared a meal together, I'm going to explain exactly why you're here," I said, casting a brief glance at Jeyne Arryn before continuing.
I waited a few seconds to capture everyone's attention, then added:
"The Vale is now under our control by the will of His Grace King Viserys. Arnold will soon take command here and will greatly reduce our taxes for the next five years."
I motioned to Maria, who carried a large scroll that she unfurled across the table as other servants began clearing the dishes.
A map of the Vale was laid out, and I said, "On this map, you can see all the Houses of the Vale as well as the strongholds of all the mountain clans and their areas of activity. All territories shaded in bronze represent those that have chosen to fully cooperate with House Royce. The gray territories remain neutral, and the blue territories still bear Jeyne Arryn's banner, knowing full well I no longer have reason to attack them with Urrax now that the Vale belongs to Arnold."
I didn't care whether the clan chiefs understood me; all that mattered was that Yohn and the other reluctant nobles at this table understood why we needed the mountain clans.
I added, "These last ones are the most dangerous. They're now untouchable but will refuse to cooperate and will do everything to hinder us. They are the poison rotting the Vale, and I'm counting on you to destroy them."
"Alone?" asked one of the chiefs.
"Precisely," I replied.
One of the clan chiefs, missing an ear, chuckled and said something in an old dialect I could translate as, "He's completely mad."
I gave a cold smile to the man I suspected to be the chief of the Black Ears clan and replied, speaking slowly in the Old Tongue:
"You don't have a choice."
The young man who had dared to ask me about the guest rights stood up and asked, lowering his gaze slightly:
"Do you have a plan to help us survive such clashes? We are brave, but against the might of all these noble Houses, we would not last in total war."
'Is he trying to divert my attention from the other? Are they in alliance?' I wondered.
"Who's talking about total war?" I replied, then added, "All I'm asking you to do is draw their attention and block their lines of communication and trade. Your mission is to isolate them; you will not attack the people or the nobles, only merchant convoys and messengers."
"You'll simply keep doing what you do best, band of marauders," my great-uncle scoffed, which momentarily provoked the barbarian giant before he quickly calmed down under my inquisitive gaze.
"How will that benefit you?" asked the young man.
"That is my business alone."