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-Chapter 92-
🕑 Added 2025-01-15 10:12:55 +0000 UTC-Chapter 92-
-POV Tommen Baratheon-
I let out a sigh of frustration as I looked at the long list of knights who had been elevated to the rank of landed knights under my father’s reign and Joffrey’s as well.
Each of them had come with fewer than a hundred men, and in total, they hadn’t brought more than 5,000 soldiers.
But I had to sit there, smile, and thank them all because their men were more experienced than mine.
‘True mercenaries,’ I thought, noticing the scars on some of their bodies.
“Ser Artison, Your Majesty,” the man said, lifting his head proudly, eager to show me his loyalty.
“With 30 of my best men,” said the knight.
“The crown thanks you for your efforts and acknowledges your loyalty,” I said, offering a slight smile.
‘As a king, you wield enormous power. This power can manifest in various ways, but the simplest and most impactful for your men are your words. A phrase will cost you nothing, yet it can restore confidence and strength to your vassals. Never forget that.’
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ I thought, watching Ser Artison kneel before me, his excitement evident.
The man, who introduced himself as Ser Artison, retreated with his chest puffed out and disappeared into the silent crowd observing our exchange.
‘I’ve had to content myself with this for two days when I should have already entered the Kingswood,’ I thought angrily, frustrated with the sluggishness of my vassals.
I had been waiting for days for the army they had promised by raven when they learned I was raising a force of unprecedented size.
‘With this new influx of soldiers, we’ll be able to bolster our troops to 80,000, with about 10,000 to 20,000 professional soldiers,’ I thought, recalling the lesson Ronnet had taught me.
‘An army without real soldiers is just a mob of peasants,’ I mused, shifting my previously distracted gaze back to the knight who had just presented himself.
I nodded, gesturing for him to join the other knights and officers who had arrived before him, resigning myself to remain seated on my throne until all had been introduced.
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-POV Loras Tyrell-
“You took your time, Lord Tywin,” I said as I led my men out to confront the man responsible for this mess.
‘Control yourself, Loras,’ I thought, taking a deep breath and giving a slight nudge to my horse to move forward.
Tywin blocked my path with his horse, frowning, and said, “We didn’t even stop at Crakehall. The men are exhausted; they need a proper night’s rest.”
“If you wanted to rest, you should have arrived sooner. Since you didn’t, I have to conclude you’ve had enough rest along the way.”
“I took longer than expected because I had to recruit more soldiers at Lannisport,” Tywin replied.
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and looked behind me before responding: “You barely have 40,000 soldiers. I’ve gathered almost twice as many men as you in half the time.”
Tywin Lannister was silent for a moment before finally saying, “We only need one night.”
“I will not risk further jeopardizing my father’s lands for a single night of rest. Your soldiers can rest as much as they want once we reach Red Lake,” I said, steering my horse around Tywin’s mount.
He snorted and signaled his men to fall back, visibly displeased, but…
‘You’ve only yourself to blame,’ I thought, as it was largely his fault that we were back on the warpath after winning the last one.
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-POV Rodrik Buckler-
“So, have you decided?” I asked Ronnet, who was seated behind his makeshift desk in the lord’s solar.
‘I don’t even know the name of the lord who ruled this place,’ I thought, taking a seat in a nearby chair.
“Honestly, I don’t know. But I think I’ll let him do what he wants,” Ronnet said, shrugging with a calm air.
“That’s a good decision. It’s what your son needs,” I said, not surprised by the confidence and ease with which he spoke of sending his son into battle despite his young age.
‘He’s a prince, and his father started around the same age,’ I thought, recalling the days when I first met Ronnet.
‘Not to mention his powers,’ I thought, remembering the last sword lessons I gave him.
‘Without my experience and his kindness, I think I would’ve been the student in our last session,’ I thought, recalling how easily he countered my every move.
“He wants to prove himself to me,” Ronnet said, fiddling with the pommel of his sword, still in its scabbard but no longer at his belt.
‘He still hates being tied to his weapon like that. He likes to have it within reach but not on his belt,’ I thought, glancing at Illumination, resting beside his chair.
I shook my head and said, “I don’t necessarily think he needs this to prove he’s worthy of succeeding you. But I do believe it could help him feel more… I don’t know, comfortable in his role.”
“Legitimate. That’s the word you were looking for, Lord Buckler,” Ronnet said, teasing me.
I rolled my eyes at his remark and said, “I’m not even the true lord of this house.”
“You will be once I’m king. Your son will marry little Buckler, and this house will belong to you once we’re in King’s Landing,” Ronnet said, handing me a bottle of wine so I could pour myself a drink.
I took the bottle, a bit distracted, and said, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’ve served me well. Since you all followed me, I told you if you survive, you won’t regret it. It’s only fair I repay the favor, don’t you think?” he asked with a mischievous smile.
“I truly thank you,” I said, trying to convey all the gratitude I felt for him in my tone and gaze.
Ronnet waved it off, as if to say it was nothing.
But for someone who had been nothing more than a mercenary with a fake knight title when we met, I had come a long way.
And I owed it all to him, as he had taken me under his wing and shown me the world.
‘If it had been someone else, I doubt I’d even still be alive today,’ I thought.
“Let’s not dwell on that. I’d like your opinion on Raymund,” Ronnet said, changing the subject.
“What has he done this time?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ve learned that he was the one who encouraged Ronald to take command of my troops and head south to the Stormlands,” Ronnet said, his tone slightly irritated.
“Do you think he wanted to get rid of him?” I asked, surprised by Ronnet’s suspicion.
He shrugged, not giving a direct answer.
“That’s impossible. He’s your brother,” I added, trying to downplay his concerns.
‘His true brother,’ I thought to myself, fully aware of the blood tie that bound them.
“He’s already been disloyal once,” Ronnet replied darkly.
“Not to that extent,” I countered quickly. “There’s a big difference between forcing you to see him as an equal and trying to harm your son.”
“He wouldn’t have killed him. He would’ve just encouraged him to take risks,” Ronnet argued, still unconvinced.
‘This suspicious streak of his… he always has to doubt everything and everyone,’ I thought, slightly annoyed.
Still, I couldn’t deny that this trait had saved many lives in the past, especially during our battles against the treachery of the Lannisters.
“It’s practically the same thing,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“No, I think the distinction is important,” Ronnet said. “He might have simply planted the idea without fully intending it, and then found himself unable to back out for fear of revealing his true intentions. You know Raymund—he has a bit of a greedy and impulsive side.”
I frowned and replied, “But not to the point of…”
I couldn’t finish my sentence. Ronald was practically more Alynne and Raymund’s son than Ronnet’s.
‘He only began claiming his son after he returned,’ I thought, refusing to believe Raymund could wish harm upon Ronald.
“I don’t know,” Ronnet admitted. “I’m bringing this up because it’s been on my mind. I’ve already strained the bonds with my brother to their limits. I don’t want to snap them over something I’m not entirely sure of.”
I sighed before offering my advice. “If you want my opinion, just ensure Ronald emerges victorious from this confrontation. Send all of our Black Hounds to support him.”
“It’s already done,” Ronnet said calmly.
I rolled my eyes and said, “Of course, it’s already done.”
A slight smile tugged at his lips, and I asked, “Care to explain?”
“No,” he replied with that same mischievous grin as before.
“Go to hell,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t take offense. In private, I had the liberty to joke like this.
‘And in private, I can allow myself this kind of banter.’
“Be respectful to your king, Rodrik. It’s ‘Go to hell, Your Majesty!’ Hahahahaha,” Ronnet laughed.
I shook my head and joined in his laughter as I finally poured myself a glass of wine.
‘I missed this,’ I thought, recalling how his humor and lightheartedness had been absent since he left for the capital.
‘With me,’ I thought.
“It’s good to have you back, brother,” I said, raising my glass to him.
Ronnet raised his own glass in return, and we drank in silence, sharing a rare moment of camaraderie amid the chaos of war.
Comments
Ghostrider0002
Thank you sky_demon for your support
sky_demon
Amazingly beautiful work
