Chapter 20: Consolidation Begins
POV: Corwyn Darke
The former Darklyn keep squatted on its hill like a stone toad, all bulk and no grace.
I entered through the main gate with fifty soldiers at my back—enough to establish authority without suggesting massacre. The household staff lined the courtyard, their faces showing the careful blankness of people who'd survived one regime change and hoped to survive another.
[ TERRITORY: FORMER DARKLYN HOLDINGS ]
[ POPULATION: 1,312 ]
[ LOYALTY: 28% (HOSTILE) ]
[ INFRASTRUCTURE: MODERATE ]
[ IMMEDIATE PRIORITY: STABILIZATION ]
The steward—a thin man named Wendel who'd served Darklyn for twenty years—stepped forward with visible reluctance.
"Lord Darke. Welcome to... your holdings."
The pause before "your" was deliberate. A small defiance, testing boundaries.
"Thank you, Wendel. I understand transitions are difficult. I have no intention of making them more so than necessary." I dismounted, handing my reins to a waiting groom. "Gather the senior staff. I wish to address them directly."
The meeting took place in Darklyn's former solar—a room decorated with hunting trophies and tapestries depicting battles the man had never actually fought. I stood rather than taking the chair, projecting approachability rather than dominance.
"You're wondering what happens now," I said to the assembled officials. "Whether you'll be purged, punished for serving your previous lord. The answer is no."
Wary glances exchanged around the room.
"Lord Darklyn's crimes were his own. You followed orders as duty required. I have no quarrel with loyal service." I let that sink in before continuing. "What I do require is competent service going forward. Those who can provide it will find employment under the same terms you've known—better terms, in some cases. Those who cannot or will not serve honestly may depart with my blessing and a month's wages."
Wendel spoke carefully. "And what do you consider 'honest service,' my lord?"
"No skimming from taxes. No taking bribes for favorable treatment. No conspiring against your lord." I smiled slightly. "Basic expectations, I think. Lord Darklyn may have tolerated corruption. I won't. But I also won't punish it retroactively. Clean slate. Starting now."
POV: Ser Gareth Stone
Gareth watched his lord work with grudging admiration.
The easy path would have been purges—remove everyone associated with Darklyn, install loyal replacements, rule through fear. Plenty of lords would have chosen that path. It would have been faster, simpler, and ultimately disastrous.
Instead, Lord Corwyn offered carrots and sticks in careful measure. Continuation for the cooperative. Fair treatment for the uncertain. Only clear defiance would meet harsh response—and by the time anyone thought to test that, the majority would already be invested in the new regime.
"He's not conquering them. He's converting them."
The tax reduction announcement proved the strategy's wisdom. Lord Corwyn stood in the town square, surrounded by guards but speaking directly to the gathered peasants.
"Lord Darklyn taxed you at thirty-five percent," he said, voice carrying across the crowd. "I am reducing that to twenty percent. Immediately. Effective with the next collection."
Murmurs rippled through the assembly. Fifteen percentage points was the difference between surviving and starving for many families.
"In return, I expect honesty. I expect cooperation. I expect you to report problems rather than hiding them until they become crises." Lord Corwyn's gaze swept the crowd. "I cannot build a prosperous domain on hungry workers and resentful subjects. Your welfare and mine are linked. Understand that, and we'll all profit."
[ 📢 PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: TAX REDUCTION ]
[ IMMEDIATE EFFECT: LOYALTY +12% ]
[ PROJECTED EFFECT (3 MONTHS): LOYALTY +25% ]
[ POPULATION MORALE: CAUTIOUSLY OPTIMISTIC ]
Gareth noticed faces in the crowd shifting from hostility to consideration. Not trust—that would take time—but the beginning of willingness to wait and see.
"He's doing it again. Building something from nothing."
POV: Maester Harlan
The integration proceeded with methodical precision.
Harlan documented everything—policy changes, population responses, resource allocations—creating records that would prove invaluable for future governance. Lord Corwyn reviewed each report personally, asking questions that revealed deep understanding of administrative complexity.
"The road between the territories needs repair," Harlan noted during their evening meeting. "Three bridges are dangerous for heavy carts. If the mining transport routes fail, our economy suffers."
"Prioritize the bridges. Hire local workers—it puts money in their pockets and gives them investment in the outcome." Lord Corwyn marked locations on the territory map, now showing both Duskhollow and the former Darklyn lands as a unified whole. "How much do we have in treasury?"
"Two thousand four hundred gold after the Crown debt payment and operational costs."
"Allocate one thousand to infrastructure. Roads, wells, granary repairs." He made notes in the margin of Harlan's report. "Another five hundred to expanding the guard force—recruit from the local population. Give them stake in defending their homes."
"That leaves us with limited reserves."
"It leaves us with loyal workers and functional infrastructure. The reserves will rebuild once the territory is productive."
[ 💰 RESOURCE ALLOCATION ]
[ INFRASTRUCTURE: -1,000 GOLD ]
[ MILITARY EXPANSION: -500 GOLD ]
[ REMAINING TREASURY: 900 GOLD ]
[ PROJECTED MONTHLY INCOME: +400 GOLD ]
Harlan recorded the allocations, privately marveling at the lord's willingness to invest rather than hoard. Most nobles accumulated wealth for its own sake, bleeding their domains to fill their coffers. Lord Corwyn treated gold as a tool—useful only when employed.
"There's one more matter," Harlan said. "The former Darklyn soldiers. Fifty-three men, currently confined to barracks."
"Offer them integration. Same terms as our existing forces—fair pay, honest treatment, opportunity for advancement. Those who refuse can depart with their weapons and a month's wages." Lord Corwyn's expression was thoughtful. "We need the manpower, but only if it's willing manpower. Forced soldiers are worse than none."
"And if they choose violence?"
"Then Ser Gareth handles it." A grim smile. "But I don't think they will. Soldiers follow strength, and we've demonstrated strength. They'll test the waters, find them acceptable, and become loyal enough."
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