A Tale of Blades & Blood-Chapter 18: The Bastard Lord

[Lorey's Point of View]

The king is useless, I thought to myself. Led his heir into battle yet he rested on the throne inside the keep. There he was, sitting on a silver throne- the one that belonged to Lord Nosos Ravenhan. He rested his elbow on the armrest, and he rested his head on his hand.

I was the first to enter the chamber of the ball room as the large doors were opened by my men. The room was now filled with corpses, their faces either blue or cut. "Your grace." I greeted as I bowed down to him, keeping a close eye on the Strix men that guarded him. "Where were you at the battle, my lord?" I asked, taking slow steps towards him.

"I could not leave, Lord Loreys..." he began, "...the toast came too late for it." he replied, a smirk on his face. I ought to cut that smile out, I wished to say.

"As you say..." I said slowly, each word a raised dagger ready to strike. "Lord Forien was excellent in battle..." I told him, "...Ser Magrae even said he was quite the dueler for a young lord." I said, making my way closer to him.

"He gets that from me, Lord Loreys." he said with a light smile and chuckle. "I am quite the dueler myself." he said with pride, stroking the handle of his sword that stood on its tip.

"Perhaps he wanted to see you fight, my lord..." I began, choosing the words carefully, "...a child admires his father more when he does what is right in front of him." I finished, looking at him with a piercing gaze, a fake smile on my face.

"What are you suggesting, Lord Loreys?" he asked, leaning forward. "You ought to stage a tourney where I duel the greatest swordsmen in all the east and abandon my war?"

I paused, giving it a moment. You're shit at war, I can't imagine you winning a tourney, I thought, just like your father. "It would be better if you led." I remarked with a fierce voice. "What have you done all this time, your grace- looking on or perhaps enjoying the view from there?" I asked sarcastically. "It must be such a delightful treat."

"I sit on the throne of The South Cradle..." he began, already filled with pride. "House Strix has already begun its attack. As I sit here, our name commands more respect by the minute." he replied, lifting his head from his hand, a smile from his face fading away.

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I take another step closer. "What will the common folk say when they do not see you at the battle fields?" I asked, challenging him. "Perhaps they will call you a coward, a false king, or even a man hiding behind the shadows of his trusted lords-"

"I could have your tongue for that!" he exclaimed with rage. I can only wonder what Lord Forien feels like having you as a father every day, I thought. "You dare say that the common folk despise me? I AM THE KING!" he exclaimed loudly, his hands crashing down on the armrests of his throne as he stood up.

Reckless like your father as well, I wished to say. "I served under your lord father..." I began as I made my way towards the throne, the guards uneasily hesitant in raising their swords, "...and he hid under The Spire on all his wars. I advise you to not do the same if you wish to ever become a great and respected ruler." I remarked loudly, my hands now resting on the handle of my blade.

"You dare defy my father in front of me?" he asked, his blood boiling and his voice almost struggling to contain the fury. I do not fear owls, I thought, I am a hound that eats many preys. "You talk too much-"

"I dare to advise the king I serve." I told him loudly.

"Then, go serve me and leave! Your tongue ought to be kept behind your teeth." he ordered. All ambitions, I thought, but not a single action taken. We do your biddings, I wished to say, you do nothing and sit on thrones.

"As you command." I replied bitterly. I turned around and left the chamber. "Foolish, ambitious, cunt." I whispered underneath my breath. As I left the room, I saw my men awaiting me. "Clean the chambers!" I ordered them. "Make space for the king's whims and wishes if you want." I remarked as I left them behind. I did not even stay to hear their reply.

I pass by Ser Maerys at the hallway, who stopped me in my tracks. "What is the commotion for, my lord?" he asked, concerned. I have no use for your concern, I thought.

"Nothing." I replied, and went on my way. The knight, however, followed closely behind me. What now? I asked myself as I turned around with a heavy breath.

"Did you argue with the king?" he asked, resting on one leg, his hands now crossed and his brows knit, trying to figure out what had gotten me into a bad mood.

I look at him with a piercing gaze. "Do you need to know everything that happens?" I asked him. "Keep your nose out of my business, Ser Maerys..." I remarked, "...you need not to know what caused me to come to anger again. Ask another time and I won't answer it." I snapped at him, making my way onwards. "Help your men clean the bloody keep, will you?" I ordered loudly.

"Of course, my lord." he replied silently, rushing to the men- once soldiers, now a cleaning crew.

I cannot stand another king like this, I thought to myself, one Lord Foros was enough for a century. I still remembered those times- the war, the bloodshed, and all the dying soldiers I commanded. All the while, Lord Foros hid inside his tower.

Kings and queens... they're all jokes, I thought to myself. The last one, a coward, and this one, an angry sloth. I reached the stables of the keep, where I am greeted once more by my horse, held by its reins by a soldier. "Give me my horse." I told him. "I ride to the tent city. Join the other useless cunts inside." I ordered, stepping on my stirrup and sitting on my saddle, securing my belt to the straps.

"As your grace commands." he replied, letting my stallion go and rushing away.

I rode away on my stallion, reaching an arc- another exit that led to the city. The city was half-destroyed, with most buildings either being half-burnt or halfway to collapsing. The civilians of the city searched in the rubble for dead family, others carried bodies away on carriages to be buried outside the city. The corpses reeked of rotting flesh, and the ground was mud from all the blood and treading of soldiers, making it harder for my horse to move.

"The dead have more presence here than the living." I whispered to myself as I rode farther towards the gate leading outside to the fields the red cavalry was defeated. I never knew what happened to their commander, Ser Merill Abbister. Plenty of books told of his strategy and strength... I did not see shit.

Eventually, I reach the tent city, where my soldiers would reside before the conquests of the other cities in the south- Caire City, Grey Burg, and castles like Ale Hall. The south falls to the hands of green, I thought to myself.

The camp was unusually calm. Many of the men were at the city, aiding in the cleaning of bodies and the repair of structures so a riot would not begin amongst the common folk. The white and green tents stood high, with men chatting on about the battle, celebrating their victory by drinking cheap wine. The horses were tendered, and most slept after the clash. The Abberan brothers were mostly at the city, cleaning up bodies and planning the next battle amongst themselves.

The only ones there were Ser Mareste and Ser Maserr, who awaited me at the entrance to my tent, both of them surrounding an old man who wore a robe.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked, stopping my horse near a post as I removed the straps on my saddle.

Ser Mareste stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak. "My lord, we found this man at-"

"Not you." I snapped at him, raising my leg over the horse, my foot resting on the stirrup, and my hands holding the reins of the horse as I get dismount it. "Him..." I ordered, pointing at Ser Maserr, "...tell me what's the meaning of this."

Ser Mareste stepped back, looking away swiftly to the ground, rejected. "This man was found at The Hall of Ravens, my lord..." Ser Maserr began, his hand on the old man's back. "He claims to be an advisor to lords, so we brought him to see if he was of use to you." he finished, the old man nodding his head in approval.

"Who are you, old man?" I asked, taking a step forward and giving him a piercing gaze. That always sniffs out the truth, I thought to myself, a piercing gaze and a stern voice.

"I am Ryene, my lord..." he began. "I am a mentor at The Hall of Ravens, teacher of teachers, advisors of lords, and-"

"Which house do you belong to?" I asked, walking past them and gesturing them to enter the tent. They quickly follow behind me. "Surely, since you are an advisor, you ought to be of noble blood..." I remarked, "...so, are you?" I asked once more, turning around to face him inside my tent, dark but lit lightly with lanterns.

"I am from no house, my lord." he replied. "Ravenmen are stripped out of their houses to fully serve their duties to advise. It is an honorable profession, and I am here to serve you, my lord-"

"You offer advice?" I asked quickly, looking at the two Abberan brothers that stood before me. "You two fools really think I need advice?" I asked, looking at the two with a smirk on my face. I stepped forward, and looked at Ser Maserr, then at Ser Mareste. "Do you think I would be renowned the greatest military man of the east if I needed advisors?" I asked once more.

Ser Mareste came forward bravely... and foolishly. "My lord, if you have no use for him-"

"I will." I snapped at him. "I'll have him at my table when I plan with you five..." I began, "...so that perhaps I won't be the only one to struggle teacher you incompetent idiots." I finished; my smirk gone, replaced by my serious gaze all too familiar to them. "You serve as bannermen to command men- go serve!" I ordered aloud. The two left as quick as they could. "I have no use for you yet. You may as well join those two dumb cunts outside and teach them for a change." I demanded. Soon enough, he left just as the others.

"Advisors..." I whispered to myself as I walked inward towards my cushioned chair, surrounded by candles with a table at the front of it and a bed beside it, "...pets for lords and soft cunts who filled their lingerie in honor." I finished, taking a seat and examining the map that laid on the table.The South Cradle was lit by the light from a candle, and there it was- the cities and castles of the region. In the hands of a shit king... I thought to myself. What a waste.

Perhaps one day a better king will arrive one day, but that would not be in my time. I might die before that even happens. In the corner of my eye, I see a letter, resting atop a small table. Slowly, I stood up, and made my way towards it. It was lit ever so nicely by the lanterns, with dust resting atop it. It was sealed by wax, and on that wax was none other than...

A Stag of House Berros.