Inside the Lions Den council hall, the flames in the fireplace danced, and the air was heavy and silent.
In the center of the table, the plea for help from Daintings City lay quietly.
Olivier looked around at everyone, cleared his throat, and was the first to break the silence.
He looked at Arthur, his voice steady: "My Lord, you previously dispatched Lucien with four hundred soldiers to Daintings City, which in itself is an act of loyalty beyond the ordinary compared to the other vassals of Daedings Family."
"There is probably no other vassal under their command who would be so generous."
He paused, observing Arthur's expression.
"Now that Daedings Family has suffered a crushing defeat, Lady Roslyn has officially called for help from all vassals."
"We can simply reply that High Mountain faces the risk of raids from the High Mountain Clan wildlings, and our forces are already stretched thin, unable to send more reinforcements."
"And with four hundred soldiers guarding Daedings Family's castle, no one can accuse us."
No sooner had Olivier finished speaking than Hubbard's slightly corpulent body shifted in his chair, which let out a groan.
Arthur looked at him; this stout man, who had successfully established lordly monopolies in five military towns, bringing him monopolistic income, now held almost as much weight in the council hall as his own physical mass.
The stout man did not look at Olivier; his small eyes gazed directly at Arthur, and he asked in his usual tone, as if evaluating a business deal: "My Lord, forgive my frankness.
2
"How do you think your army compares to the Ironborn who live by raiding at sea?"
Arthur did not answer immediately; he leaned back in his chair, his slender fingers gently rubbing his forehead, and closed his eyes.
A moment later, he opened his eyes, his gaze calm: "If the Ironborn are fewer than my army, I can defeat them at a very small cost."
His voice echoed in the quiet council hall, clear and calm.
"If the numbers are equal, I am still confident of victory, but the cost will be heavy; I might lose a third, or even half, of my soldiers."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone.
"But if their numbers exceed mine, I have no confidence in winning."
Hubbard spread his fleshy palms, as if displaying an irrefutable commodity.
Then he grinned, revealing the shrewdness characteristic of a merchant: "So, My Lord, you see, is this war profitable?"
"From ancient times, vassals have answered their liege's call either for land or for wealth."
"If a war yields nothing, and one gambles their entire fortune merely for an empty oath, such foolishness can probably only be found in the songs of bards."
He leaned forward, his voice lowered slightly, making it more persuasive.
"The unit you dispatched has already proven your loyalty to everyone, especially to Lady Roslyn."
"Compared to other nobles who only sent a few dozen farmers to make up the numbers, your reputation is already sufficiently renowned."
"Now, you have the most compelling reasons to prevaricate, to fight a war with no profit, no rewards, and not even a chance of victory,
purely consuming the family wealth you've painstakingly accumulated."
Hubbard's words resonated with Arthur; he felt as if he had integrated into the feudal system of Westeros,
a ruthless, realistic noble lord, constantly calculating his own interests.
Daedings Family had nothing left to grant, nothing left to reward. If he were to throw his full strength into a bloody battle against Ironborn who outnumbered him several times over, regardless of victory or defeat, he would ultimately be the only one to suffer.
This thought lasted only a few short breaths before Arthur saw through it and dismissed it; he had almost truly assimilated into the regional environment.
If the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold. If Daedings Family's territory were completely ravaged and destroyed by the Ironborn, then the next target would still be his own land.
Allowing these Mad Dogs to run rampant in his neighbor's house would eventually lead to them being defeated one by one; this was also the outcome the Ironborn desired.
The council hall was silent, with only Arthur's footsteps echoing.
Finally, he stopped: "Hubbard and Olivier are right, we cannot fight an unprofitable war, but I still decide to mobilize three hundred more soldiers."
"But these three hundred men will be entirely used for our own border vigilance with Daedings Family. Nominally, I am responding to Lady Roslyn's call, but my army will never set foot on Daedings Family's land."
"We will wait." A nearly cold rationality flickered in Arthur's eyes. "Wait for Riverrun's pursuing army to arrive and rendezvous."
"Wait for the Vale, the North, or the Royal Army to arrive. This will take at most a month."
After speaking, Arthur fell silent. This was still useless. If thousands of Ironborn truly came, he could only abandon the plains and retreat to High Mountain. He had the strength to fight, but he could not bet everything on this war.
And now, the most pressing concern was the safety of Seaguard. Once that fell, eliminating this Ironborn force would be meaningless. The Ironborn fleet would be able to roam freely on the Trident River. By then, even if the Vale, the North, or the Royal Army arrived, the entire Riverlands would already be an unsalvageable scorched earth.
Just as everyone thought the discussion had concluded, the heavy wooden door of the council hall was suddenly pounded upon, the knocking urgent and forceful, completely lacking the usual announcement etiquette.
A guard ran in, kneeling on one knee, holding up a letter, panting heavily from running.
"My Lord! An urgent letter from Lady Rona!"
Lady Rona, that name made Arthur's heart pound. He quickly stepped forward, snatched the letter, and with a forceful pull of his fingertips, tore open the wax seal.
He unfolded the letter, his gaze quickly scanning the scrawled and urgent handwriting. The paper even bore tears of fear. Hundreds of Ironborn had already crossed the tributary of the Blue Fork River, pouring into her territory like locusts. They burned villages, plundered food. At the end of the letter, Lady Rona fearfully asked what she should do, whether she should abandon the city and flee.
Arthur slowly closed the letter, imagining the torment that fragile woman must be enduring. He let out a long sigh of resignation and relief; in the end, he was forced onto the ship.
He looked up, scanning everyone, and calmly announced: "She and I are one. Her land and my land are no different."
These simple words were heavier than any oath. Arthur crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the fireplace. The paper ball was instantly consumed by the flames, just like the villages being consumed by the fires of war.
"Brin!"
"Gather five hundred peasant soldiers! Have them bring weapons, armor, and seven days' rations!"
"Yes, My Lord!!!" Brin stood up and responded loudly.
Inside the council hall, everyone looked at him in astonishment. One moment, the Lord was calculating gains and losses, and the next, because of a woman's name, everything had completely shifted.
He decided to rush to the battlefield.
-------------------------
If you enjoy this story, you can read 70+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
Webnovel will keep getting 1 new chapter every day but Patreon readers can stay far ahead.
Maybe it's not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
[email protected]/Greyhounds
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"