The Bastard King

Ch. 4

Rowan

The air was infused with the sweet fragrance of roses as the castle bustled with anticipation for the royal selection. Servants scurried in a frenzy, orchestrating the preparations. I navigated through the halls, with Eamon and Cillian in close tow, heading towards the war room. Our destination was clear – a meeting with my council to discuss our standing within the region. The impending selection was pushed to the recesses of my mind, trusting Eamon to manage the affairs competently.

Upon entering the war room, my presence was met with bows of reverence from the men gathered. The room was centered around a large table, adorned with a detailed map of Valeria, and pieces representing our army scattered across it.

"How are the borders?" I inquired, approaching the table, my eyes scanning the map. To the East, Solaris bordered us, where our forces were least concentrated, thanks to our alliance.

"Majesty," Lord Ravenshaw began, his voice echoing in the war room. "We have deployed our forces to all corners of Valeria, but our primary concern lies in the South, where a claimant is amassing supporters."

A subtle frown crept upon my face at his choice of words, but time was a luxury we couldn't afford to waste. "He claims to be a son of the late King Richard."

The notion that my father's legacy extended to unknown heirs scattered throughout the realm lingered in my mind. However, the audacity of one of his bastards challenging me, especially after all I had done to secure my position, was both unexpected and unwelcome. I had meticulously built this army, forged alliances in the Solarian court, and any opposition, especially from within, was not to be taken lightly. "Crush them," I declared with steely resolve. Any rebellion needed to be quelled swiftly to prevent it from gaining strength.

"Majesty," Lord Rashford spoke, his massive hands settling firmly on the table. His stature contradicted the elegance suggested by his name, making him the most imposing figure in the room. "Our forces are stationed across every post, but diverting men to White River now would thin our presence elsewhere. We're stretched quite thin, majesty."

Surveying the map, I noted the modest number of men allocated to each station and village. Some locations seemed scarcely defended, with less than fifty soldiers. I crossed my arms, a furrow forming on my brow. "Conscript more men," I declared, revealing my lack of strategic experience.

Eamon interjected, seeking permission to speak, and I nodded in acknowledgment. "Majesty, strengthen your presence here, win the people's love, and they will fight for you."

Cillian dismissed the advice with a scoff. "Your counsel reeks of kindness? We've just taken Valeria by force, and we must maintain it with the same force."

Eamon's advice seemed unconventional, yet there was a shrewdness to his approach. "Force will be our contingency plan. Win their affection—arrange a grand feast, assist in fortifying village defenses, perhaps even lower taxes. If they persist in hostility, then make an example by hanging them in the square."

His words, delivered with an air of nonchalance, held a certain logic that resonated with me. Around the table, the lords exchanged knowing glances, some nodding in agreement while others scoffed and rolled their eyes. Cillian, a man of war and violence, represented a necessary force for specific circumstances. In contrast, Eamon offered a perspective that illuminated the broader vision, revealing the potential for the future.

"Do as he says," I instructed with resolve. "Allocate our men to aid in the reconstruction of the ravaged villages. Reward those who bring us traitors or loyalists, employ boys for stable duties with generous wages. Identify taxes that can be temporarily reduced. The grand feast shall coincide with my wedding, extend invitations to all our allied Lords for the ceremony. We will orchestrate a jubilant parade through the Citadel, allowing the people to revel in their new queen. While we indulge within the castle walls, arrange for men to distribute wine at the gates for those who desire it."