An Ending of Oaths - Chapter 14

North Bank of the Thunderhorn, Kingsheart, Sidor

Aldric stared out the farmhouse window, finally giving up on his pacing. He had arrived early and, in spite of Alyssa’s protests, without guards. He needed to convince Edmund that he was being sincere and was a reasonable intermediary. Worse, he had to convince Serwyn who, by all reports, was becoming more insatiable and bloodthirsty.

He knew Alyssa did not trust Edmund, and to be honest, he did not either, but he trusted Edmund’s sense of self-preservation. He knew Edmund did not want this war any more than he did. There had been signs. Orders later countermanded by the king, offers for negotiation not taken up, all of which told Aldric what he needed to know. Edmund was smart enough to see the situation was gaining momentum and would soon have too much to stop. He would need Aldric.

Although to keep convincing him of that was going to take every ounce of skill Aldric had ever built. It was already going to be difficult, but Garris’s decision to not come was going to make it harder. He understood the Baron’s refusal, to a point. Garris was right that he could not trust Edmund not to make this into a trap. He had tried. He had suggested an equal number of guards on each side, he had arranged for it to be close to the Hornbridge, to give them quick escape to River Mark, and he had positioned a large force of guards on the River Mark side of the Thunderhorn.

Garris had not been mollified and Aldric had been forced to come alone.

Movement in the distance brought Aldric back to the here and now. Edmund and Serwyn were on horseback, followed by five guards. Aldric was surprised that Edmund had honored his request for a minimal guard contingent, even if that was no longer necessary since Garris was not going to join them.

Serwyn, Edmund, and four of the guards dismounted, tying their horses up next to Aldric’s, while another one seemed to be riding around the rear of the building. Aldric stepped back from the window, positioning himself in the middle of the open room as they entered. Most of the guards were staying outside, with only one following Edmund and Serwyn into the small farmhouse.

Colm, Aldric thought. The hawk-faced man who his brother liked to use as his personal errand boy.

“Edmund. It seems we are just family here today. I come without guards, as a gesture of trust. Perhaps …”

Serwyn turned to the guard and said, “Wait outside.”

Colm hesitated, glancing at Edmund, who gave the slightest nod, as if to confirm it was safe.

“Where is Garris?” Edmund asked.

“He sends his regrets. He felt... uncomfortable with the arrangements.”

“Afraid to stand up for his actions? To face justice?” Serwyn demanded.

“I think he might have been afraid to face that justice here, in this room, instead of negotiating an end to this. You have to admit, there have been actions of late that would make it hard for those who question the crown to trust its good intentions. I think he was afraid that this might be a trap.”

An expression passed between Edmund and Serwyn, telling Aldric all he needed to know. Garris had been right to worry.

“Anyone who questions the crown should…” Serwyn started, taking an angry step forward.

A fumbling attempt to seem angry to hide his surprise. He allowed himself to be stopped when Edmund held him by the elbow, stopping him.

“If Sinclair is not here, then what is the point of this meeting?”

“There is still a purpose. Garris is willing to negotiate. He even believes peace can be achieved, although only if the crown reconsiders some of its recent... decisions.”

“Reconsider? That traitor dares to make demands?” Serwyn demanded.

“Your Grace,” Aldric said, addressing Serwyn formally, “these are not demands. They are suggestions to prevent further unrest. The rebellion has been bloodless so far. There is an opportunity here to end this peacefully, to show mercy and wisdom.”

“Mercy?” Serwyn said, spitting on the ground to show his contempt.

“Serwyn, we could end all of this. Consider offering clemency to Garris and those who have supported him. It would go a long way toward healing the rift in our kingdom. Garris will come back to the fold. It will be tense, but… things can be better. Reinstate the Council of Commoners. Formally guarantee the rights of the barons. These actions would preserve peace in Sidor and strengthen your rule, Your Grace.”

“I will never negotiate with traitors!” he shouted, stabbing a finger at Aldric. “They deserve to burn for their disloyalty!”

Edmund moved behind Serwyn, placing a hand on his shoulder again. “Your Grace, perhaps we should…”

“No! I am the king! I will not be lectured on leadership by those who would undermine my authority! Perhaps both of you are traitors. Perhaps you should both suffer the same fate as Sinclair.”

Aldric had heard Serwyn’s rages and heard tale that they had become wilder. More uncontrolled. More so, it seemed as if Edmund thought the same thing, his expression turning dark. Troubled. He took a step back, his eyes on their nephew. Aldric could see him working the situation, trying to figure out how to keep this from turning into disaster.

That was what Aldric had hoped for. Edmund was a better manipulator than he would ever be, which was normally something Aldric would have been proud to say, preferring a more straightforward approach than always twisting and lying as his brother did.

He hoped that Edmund could calm their nephew down. Keep this from getting out of hand.

What his brother did, however, he could never have guessed.

Moving much faster than he thought Edmund was capable of, his brother moved up right behind Serwyn, his hand snaking around in front of Serwyn, a blade Aldric had not seen in it draining across the boy’s throat.

Blood sprayed across the space between them, splashing across Aldric’s tunic and face. Serwyn’s eyes went wide, his mouth forming an O as he grasped at the wound. Time seemed to slow as Serwyn crumpled to the floor, gurgling his last breaths. Aldric stood frozen. He had been in dozens of battles, watched hundreds of men die close up, many at his own hands. But this, he was not prepared for.

Edmund, who was mostly clean, his body blocked by Serwyn’s, threw the knife to the floor at Aldric’s feet and took several steps back.

He gave Aldric a cold smile before he screamed, “Guards! Help! The king is slain! Aldric has murdered Serwyn!”

It was an impressive act, his voice sounding panicked and afraid. As if he had seen his king murdered in front of him. Realization struck. This might not have been his initial plan, but it had been something he had considered. Been prepared for. When he saw no Garris, he had made his play. Serwyn had been growing increasingly erratic. With him dead, and Aldric framed as the traitor who killed him, a member of Garris’s revolution, it cleared the way for Edmund himself to take the throne.

Aldric had always known Edmund was ruthless, but even in his wildest dreams, he could never have imagined him capable of this.

Edmund bolted for the door, his cries for help growing more frantic. “Treason! Seize the traitor!”

Aldric could not wait and he knew staying to defend himself was not an option. It explained why Edmund had only brought a few guards, headed by his lackey Colm. The other men were probably equally vetted. Aldric knew the easiest thing for Edmund would be for Aldric to be dead, allowing Edmund to describe the events any way he wanted.

He was left with only one option; he drew his sword and ran for the rear of the farmhouse, out the door he knew was there. As he burst through the door, a guard stood there, waiting, his blade already drawn. The only thing that saved Aldric was the man clearly did not expect to see anyone, let alone a duke covered in blood.

The hesitation allowed Aldric to step back and bring his sword up in time to parry the blow that came, instead of being cut down as he came through the door. He countered with a swift riposte, his blade finding purchase in the gap between the guard’s cuirass and gorget. The man fell, clutching at his throat.

Aldric wasted no time. He vaulted onto the fallen guard’s mount, spurring the beast into a gallop. As he rode hard for Hornbridge, shouts following him as Edmund’s men mounted and gave chase.

Aldric had enough of a lead he knew he was safe. The kingdom was another question.

Civil war was now inevitable. Edmund would use Serwyn’s death to consolidate power, painting Aldric as a traitor.

***

***

Starhaven, Kingdom of Sidor

The docks of Starhaven were all but barren. Edmund had not seen it this bad since the peasants all but encircled the capital during their revolt. People were scared then, and they were scared now. After Colm and his men failed to stop Aldric from escaping, and they had seen the several hundred men Aldric had prestaged on the other side of the Hornbridge, Edmund had come straight back to Starhaven.

He needed to rally the banners and for that, he needed to be officially recognized as the proper ruler of Sidor. Even if there were no other options, with Serywn dead and Aldric guilty of his murder, there should be no question as to his being crowned. With the amount of unrest already in the kingdom, and so many barons on the fence, it was important to follow the precedence of coronation.

Even with how quickly he had made it back to the capital, word seemed to travel ahead of him, as it always did. Carried on fear and the wind. If tensions among the barons were high, it was more so among the populace. Every village and town they had passed through had shuttered itself, afraid of more soldiers marching through their homes, fighting in their streets.

Things had gone so badly. He had known this was coming. Serwyn was becoming unstable. Dangerous. All the turmoil across the kingdom could be traced back to his inability to control himself. Every plan Edmund had, every chance to get things back under control and start exerting their will over the barons, the boy would disrupt in a childish tantrum.

If it had remained at that, Edmund would have found a way around it, but he had been escalating. Feeling his power. The killing of Fletcher was surprisingly well done, but executing Thurston and the business with the Council of Commoners had been devastating mistakes. Worse, he had become aggressive with Edmund himself. His threats to have Edmund join Thurston had become more frequent and believable.

Edmund knew he had acted rashly. He had seen Serwyn raging, that it was only the three of them in the farmhouse, and had made a snap decision. At that moment, it had seemed the right one but … time would tell.

Edmund had started up the road to the palace when his scribe, Orlan, came running down the road, skidding to a stop in front of him.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a low bow. “I am sorry. I did not know you would be here so soon.”

“It is fine, Orlan. And it is not Your Majesty. Not yet. I have to be sworn in first.”

“Of course,” the scribe said, bowing again.

Orlan fell in step next to him as Edmund continued his path up the road from the docks to the palace, guards flanking out to either side of the street and ahead, clearing the way.

“Have the wyverns been dispatched to the barons?”

Edmund had sent a wyvern ahead as soon as it was clear Aldric was gone, and almost certainly the south with him, to start shoring up support.

“Yes, Your Grace. Most of the barons in western Kingsheart have replied, pledging their support. The Duke of the Icelands has responded on behalf of all of his barons, although many of those have added their voices to it since.”

“Only western Kingsheart?”

“Many of the eastern barons have responded favorably, Your Grace. However, those closest to the Shatterstone Mountains have been... quiet.”

“Shalesport, Deepford, Harlington, Cragshand, Penshaw, Yorwick, Darrington?”

“Most have given no response. The Barons of Shalesport and Penshaw have asked for … clarification on what happened at the Thunderhorn. Most had heard of the peace meeting, but accounts of what transpired are... varied. Rumors already run rampant through the kingdom.”

They passed through the merchants’ district, the constant haggling and dealing pausing as Edmund and his retinue passed.

“That is faster than I expected. An official proclamation must be issued today. Announce the murder of King Serwyn at the hands of his uncle, the usurper Aldric Whitton. Make it known that Aldric acted in support of his co-conspirator, Garris Sinclair, in an attempt to seize the throne.”

“It shall be done, Your Grace. I will see to it personally.”

“Good. While we are at it, I think we need to start swaying some of the public sentiment. I want you to begin paying certain individuals to spread additional rumors about the true cause of this conflict.”

“What sort of rumors, Your Grace?”

“Be creative. Perhaps Sinclair is in the pay of the Lynesians, sowing discord and plotting regicide. Or maybe Aldric has been infected by curses from the Maw, driving him to madness and treachery. The more varied and outlandish, the better. As long as they keep the theme of Aldric and Sinclair’s evil and possibly mawspawned intent.”

“I understand, Your Grace, it shall be done as you command. There is, however, worse news. It seems the nobles still in Lindenwood have risen up and overthrown the newly installed baron. He is missing, and they have declared for Sinclair’s rebellion.”

“Damnable fools,” he hissed. “Send a second wyvern to each baron who has not given clear, unequivocal support. Make it clear they have this one chance to prove their loyalty. If they fail to do so, they will be counted among Sinclair’s followers and dealt with accordingly.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

They continued out of the merchants’ quarter and into the nobles’ quarter, much emptier than it normally was this time of year, when the council was in session. Cowards. All of them.

“What of River Mark and Shadowhold?” Edmund asked, even though he already knew the answer. “Have any of the barons there responded? Broken from Aldric?”

“No word, Your Grace. Wyverns have been sent, but none have returned. We have heard from Baron Blout, however. He brought his men to the Thunderhorn as you commanded, arriving a few days after you started your trip here, but …”

“But what?”

“The Hornbridge is gone, Your Grace. The day after the confrontation, before Blout could arrive, it was set afire and broke sections of stone from its mooring on the south bank. Blout was not clear on how complete the destruction was, only that it is now impassable.”

Edmund stopped suddenly in his tracks, causing his guards to stumble as they adjusted their formation to keep from running into him. That was unexpected of his brother. The Hornbridge had been built during the reign of Corwyn the Builder three hundred years ago, to allow for large-scale trade across the massive Thunderhorn River. The loss of the Hornbridge would limit any incursions south, since sailing down the Leviathan Straits was too uncertain to send large forces that way.

Which was almost certainly why Aldric had it severed.

“What of Eastbridge?” Edmund asked, inquiring about the only other major bridge across the Thunderhorn. “Have we heard anything from there?”

“Baron Kenmore did pledge his support for the crown before... before King Serwyn’s tragic demise,” Orlan said, choosing his words carefully. “However, they have been silent since then. We have received no response to our recent messages.”

Dunwic’s Reach was on the Kingsheart side of the river, but they had always been more closely aligned with River Mark than their own Duchy. They were also on this side of the Thunderhorn, not protected by the river or a mountain range. They would bow to his rule.

The bigger problem was the bridge itself. The Barony of Greenwood was one of Aldric’s biggest supporters. They would never bow. Twyver, their capital, was on the south side of the bridge. If they wanted to cross, they were going to have to fight through that city to do it. The Hornbridge would have been easier.

“Have Blout send someone to check on the bridge. Aldric has no choice but to counter us. We will have to send forces to both Iron Keep and River Mark, and to go to River Mark, we need one of the bridges to remain standing.”

“I will see to it at once, Your Grace.”

“Good,” Edmund said. “Good.”

He looked back over the city. His city now.

This was not what he had intended, but it was what he had wanted. Now he had to hold it.

***

Kenna, River Mark, Sidor

Aldric was filthy as he rode into his capital. He’d been on the road for a week, rushing from one place to another to shore up defenses after Edmund’s murder of Serwyn. He still couldn’t believe it happened. He’d known Edmund was power hungry and willing to do a lot to get what he wanted, but killing his own nephew should have been unthinkable.

Which is how Aldric had walked into the trap, by himself and with no other witnesses. It had been a perfect trap, and he’d walked right into it. Now Edmund had justification for taking the throne for himself.

His eyes were open now. Even before Edmund called for his banners, it was clear his only recourse would be riding armies into Iron Keep and River Mark. Their first target would be to come across the Hornbridge, since it was an open roadway on the other side, which had forced Aldric to take serious actions to keep that from happening. After that, it had been to make sure Baron Greenwood would hold Eastbridge, the only other crossing into River Mark from Kingsheart now that the Hornbridge was gone.

Inworth, thankfully, remained true, in spite of the lies Edmund was putting out, and assembled what he could to defend the bridge. As with most of his barons, he had sent a significant number of his men with the armies in Lynese. Aldric had stopped in the Barony of Rothpale, Greenwood’s neighbor, on the way and convinced Throckmorton to add what he had available to the defense of the bridge, which should be enough to hold it for the next few weeks. It would take Edmund that long to rally his own men and bring a large enough force to take the crossing. Aldric just hoped he could get the rest of his barons moving to further shore up defenses by then.

Someone must have run ahead and told of his arrival, because Alyssa was waiting in front of the keep for him. As soon as he dismounted, she rushed to him, almost knocking him over as she threw her arms around him.

“Thank the ancients you’re home. I’ve prayed for you every day since we heard what happened, that you would make it back to me safe.”

“They must have heard your prayers,” Aldric said, pushing her back at arm’s length so he could kiss her on her head before pulling her into his arms again. “And now that I’m here, you can say ‘I told you so’ in person.”

“No. I know I had unkind things to say about him, but even then, I didn’t think he would kill Serwyn.”

“Neither did I. The boy had … problems, but he was still king. I’d wanted to stop this mess, and instead I’ve made it happen.”

“You didn’t. It was always going this way, maybe ever since Gavric died. Serwyn and Edmund were never fit to rule. This was how it was always going to go.”

“Maybe,” Aldric said. He accepted she was probably right but … he didn’t want to talk about it. “How many came?”

“Five. The island lords stayed on their homes, as you asked them, as did Cyril. They all sent their messages of support. Your people love you.”

“Ancients help them,” Aldric said, showing one of the first smiles he’d given in a long time. “Let’s go see the rest.”

He gave the reins off to a stable boy who’d run up and took his wife’s hand, walking with her into the keep and toward the council room on the second floor. Inside were the barons of Cloud Harbor, Stonevale, Stourshire, Holm, and Fairshore. All men he’d known for years, decades in some cases, and all of whom looked as serious as they ever had.

“Your Grace, is it true?” Baron Montley of Cloud Harbor demanded, rising from his seat as soon as Aldric walked into the room. “About how the king died?”

“Of course not,” Baron Halstead said. “We all know Aldric. He would not kill his king. Especially not in the way Duke Edmund described. I’d never believe it.”

All of them began speaking over each other, either coming to Aldric’s defense or asking questions about how everything went so badly. Aldric let them go for a minute, and then raised a hand, quieting them.

“My lords, I understand your concerns. To address the matter at hand: no, there is no truth to Edmund’s accusations. I did not kill King Serwyn, Edmund did. He saw the opportunity to put himself on the throne and frame the murder on someone else, and he took it.”

There was a collective gasp. Even those who supported him and thought Edmund a liar most likely did not think it would have gone that far. It was hard for any Sidorian to imagine someone going that far.

“Worse, his plan, as impromptu as it was, might succeed. I was alone, as we’d agreed on, and outnumbered. Having killed the king, it wouldn’t have been that much of a stretch to add me to the list, which left me no options other than running. It was the right decision, but it made me look guilty. While I’m grateful for your loyalty, there will be others who question the truth of what happened. This accusation will cost us the support of those barons who were already angry with Edmund but hesitant to openly oppose him. They’ll see this as too great a risk to align themselves with us.”

“It should be clear to any of them that this is a lie. It’s so … far-fetched. And everyone knows how Edmund is,” Baron Braithwaite said.

“Fear and uncertainty are powerful motivators, and there is a lot of both to go around right now. What we need is to start working against these lies. The first step is to counter using this to tag the entire movement with. I’ll reach out to Garris and offer to step aside from any involvement. I would understand if any of you here have doubts, and I release you from any obligation to follow me in this. You may choose to support Garris or not, as you see fit.”

Baron Kenilworth of Holm rose abruptly. “Your Grace, we would never abandon our loyalty to you. The very idea is…”

“I appreciate your sentiment,” Aldric cut in, holding up a hand. “But I need you all to think it through carefully. Edmund still has the larger set of forces right now, even if Garris stays with us, we have a hard fight ahead of us. This has to be our focus now, not my personal position. The kingdom is what matters, not any one man’s claim to power.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances, but none voiced further objection. Aldric could see the fear and worry in their eyes. He didn’t blame them. These were dangerous times, and the wrong choice could mean ruin for their houses.

“Until we know where everyone stands, we need to start preparing,” Aldric continued. “I’ll send a message to the Duke of Shadowhold to gauge his allegiance. But until we’re certain, Baron Egerton will need to continue holding Silverstone.”

“Surely the Duke of Shadowhold wouldn’t dare cross the Kingshold to attack us? They have had problems with the crown even when Garvic had the throne. Now … they’ve become downright hostile,” Baron Montley said.

“Perhaps,” Aldric conceded. “But we can’t afford to take chances. We must act as if they will move against us until we know what they’ll do. We’ll make no aggressive moves against Shadowhold. But we will hold our side of the river until we know where the Duke’s loyalties lie.”

“I assume that is why Baron Egerton is not with us?” Baron Kenilworth asked.

“It is. I sent a wyvern to him while I was still up in Greenwood coordinating there, asking him to hold the bridge. Speaking of Greenwood, he is currently fortifying Twyver. There have been probes against the bridge. Nothing substantial yet, but I expect Edmund’s main thrust to come there. He can’t risk sailing across Kingsheart Bay without dealing with Redwater, Seamount, Bay Isle, or White Water first.”

“Might he not try to take those islands, then? Clear Kingsheart Bay for a naval assault?” Baron Montley asked.

“Unlikely. Edmund will favor a direct approach. Most of our ships are with William and Pembroke in Lynese and he’s not going to want to start asking them to get involved, especially with Pembroke there. I have heard that he’s ordered them to stay focused on the fight there. He knows as well as we do that the bulk of the forces that went to Lynese came from River Mark and Iron Keep and he’ll have no choice but to assume they will rejoin their barons, regardless of the side they take, if they come back. That will help us more than him, so he’ll give up the chance for those ships in order to keep those soldiers out. Still, I’ll dispatch wyverns to those barons, instructing them to prepare for potential landings. If this drags on, Edmund might indeed target the islands. We’ll deal with that when, and if, it comes to pass.”

“Your Grace, about the Hornbridge,” Montley asked. “Its loss will be costly to repair when this is over. The trade disruption alone...”

Aldric had expected this. Even though Cloud Harbor was a major shipping point, with its capital city of Windrush sitting at the estuary created by the Thunderhorn emptying into Kingsheart Bay, the frequent sinkings by sea monsters coming in from Leviathan Straits made shipping traffic unreliable at best. That made the Horn Road the next best point for goods to come in and out of the Barony. The Barony of Rothpale, which sat on the other side of the Hornbridge, stretched between the Horn Road and the east road, and had options. It was a decision that would affect Cloud Harbor’s people for years to come.

“I’m aware of the cost, both immediate and long-term, and I know your people will be hurt. But we lack the manpower to hold both bridges when Edmund can concentrate his forces wherever he chooses. Consolidating our defense gives us the best chance of repelling his initial assault. The alternative would be to allow an army to march across and ravage your barony.”

Montley made an acquiescing gesture, but was clearly not completely mollified.

Aldric gave him a nod, as if to say I understand your pain, and said, “I’ll send wyverns to Garris and as many of the eastern Kingsheart barons as we can reach. If we can bring them to our side, it will significantly ease any counteroffensive against Edmund.”

“And if they don’t join us?” Braithwaite asked.

“Then we’ll face a longer, harder fight,” Aldric replied honestly. “But for now, we must focus on what’s in front of us. Our priority is reinforcing Twyver against Edmund’s attack. I need each of you to muster what forces you can spare to support Baron Greenwood. Time is not on our side. Edmund will move quickly, hoping to catch us unprepared. We must prove him wrong. Are there any questions?”

The barons shook their heads, each looking to the others, but none had anything to offer. What could they say? It was obvious to all what Edmund’s next move would be, and what their options in return were.

“Very well,” Aldric said. “Return to your holdings and make your preparations, moving as soon as you can. Don’t wait for me to coordinate. May the Ancients watch over us all.”