Chapter 25

Starhaven, Sidor

Serwyn paced behind his desk, a scowl etched into his face. While scowling was not unusual for Serwyn, this time, it wasn’t in annoyance or petulance. This was a new version that Edmund hadn’t seen before, at least not at this level. Serwyn was in a full rage.

The desk, normally completely empty, due to Serwyn’s disinterest in the more ‘boring’ parts of ruling, was covered in pages. Each was a report, with details of assaults and incidents that had occurred across the kingdom as peasant backlash to the higher taxes and new laws, thrown there by the king as he built up to his current tirade.

All he, Colm, and Bramwell could do was stand there and listen as the king listed off every wrong they had ever committed, and many that existed only in the king’s mind.

“ ... with complete impunity. I’m told they are defeated, and yet here are reports of them killing my men and hiding what they owe,” Serwyn said, waving a hand at the pages on his desk. “That doesn’t sound very defeated to me. When I knighted you, it was because of that victory. I can’t help but wonder if you killed any of the rebels at all.”

Before Colm could say anything, Serwyn whirled and thrust a finger at Bramwell. “And you! You call yourself Captain of the Guard? My own capital is out of control! My guards can’t even walk the streets without being jumped by ... by ... peasants.”

Picking up an inkwell, he hurled it across the room, missing Bramwell by inches before it smashed against the wall, splattering ink across a tapestry.

“Your Majesty,” Bramwell said. “I have men scouring the city as we speak, searching for the perpetrators. They will be found and brought to justice, I assure you.”

“You’ve shown me how you care about my justice!” Serwyn shouted, moving around the desk and closing the distance between the two of them in two long strides. “Protests still happen in the streets of my capital, and your guards stand and watch. If justice was being carried out, these ... vermin would be terrified to show their faces, let alone attack your own guards. They should be hanging in the central square. Their heads should be staked along the pier as a warning to any others who might disrupt my city. Instead, you’re searching for peasants in a sea of peasants. You make a mockery of my justice! You make a mockery of me!”

Before Bramwell could respond, Serwyn lashed out, striking the captain across the face with a backhand blow. Bramwell’s head snapped to the side, a trickle of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth where one of the king’s rings had cut him. Bramwell’s lack of response threw Serwyn into an even greater rage. Grabbing the captain by the front of his tunic, the king slammed him against the wall and pressed his forearm against Bramwell’s throat, pinning him in place.

Bramwell didn’t fight back, and in fact looked to be allowing the king to manhandle him. While Serwyn might have been working with the weapons masters, and he certainly was filling out with muscle as he grew, he still wasn’t particularly large. It seemed doubtful that the king could have thrown Bramwell around like he did if the guard captain didn’t allow it to happen. And yet, how could he stop it? Knocking the king down, even in self-defense, was a good way to get executed.

“I am the king!” Serwyn snarled, his face inches from Bramwell’s. “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed! I expect results, not excuses!”

Bramwell gasped for air, his hands grasping at Serwyn’s arm, but he made no move to remove it or defend himself. His eyes darted to Edmund, pleading silently for intervention.

Edmund looked to Colm, who seemed completely uninterested in what was happening, and back to Serwyn and Bramwell. Things were getting out of hand. Stepping forward, Edmund grabbed his nephew’s forearm and pulled the young king back, breaking his hold on Bramwell.

“Your Majesty. This isn’t helping.”

Serwyn whirled on him and shouted, “Do not presume to tell me what is helping, Uncle. I am the king!”

Edmund held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I know you are, Serwyn. I know you want to be a good king, as good and wise as our ancestors were. I know you’re angry. Rightfully so. But attacking your own men, the very ones who defend you and this kingdom, will not solve the problems we face.”

Serwyn’s chest heaved with barely contained rage, but thankfully he didn’t lash out or escalate things. A good sign, at least.

“The people are scared and angry. They don’t understand why their lives are getting harder. Lashing out in violence will only breed more resentment and resistance. We must be smart about this.”

Serwyn paced away, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Smart? Like passing these laws in the first place? I question if any of our choices have been smart.”

“I know this isn’t easy and I understand your frustration, Your Majesty. Things are always difficult when you try to make changes. But we must not let anger cloud our judgment. The rebels are a symptom, not the disease. We must root out the source of this unrest. That was one of the reasons we started this plan in the first place, to find these elements and start your rule off on the right path.”

While that was a bit of rewriting history, Edmund hoped Serwyn was too angry to question it.

For a moment, his nephew just glared at him before whirling on Bramwell, who’d pulled himself away from the wall and was gingerly touching his throat.

“You heard the duke. Root out the source. I want you personally leading the effort to crush this rebellion. I want them found and dealt with, swiftly and brutally. Make an example of them. Leave no doubt in anyone’s mind what happens to those who defy their king.”

Bramwell bowed, wincing as the movement pulled at his injured throat. “As you command, Your Grace. I will not fail you again.”

“Your Majesty, if I may,” Edmund said. “Captain Bramwell’s expertise lies in maintaining order within the city. Sending him against the rebels in the countryside may not be the most effective use of his skills.”

“And what would you suggest, Uncle? More diplomacy and restraint? That’s worked so well thus far.”

“No, not restraint. I believe Colm ... I’m sorry, Sir Colm, has shown he can get results. If, perhaps, we gave him more resources...”

“Results? Like ‘destroying’ the rebels that somehow miraculously reappeared just a month later, attacking officials again. The kingdom can scarcely survive more results like that. No, I’ve made my decision. Clearly, Captain Bramwell isn’t doing any good here, so maybe, since you and Colm have been incapable of stopping these attacks, he might do better in the field. And if he fails ... well, then it gives me a good enough reason to remove him from my service. Permanently.”

“I will not fail, Your Majesty,” Bramwell said.

“See that you don’t.” Serwyn waved a dismissive hand. “Now get out of my sight. All of you.”

Bramwell bowed and hurried out of the room, probably happy to be given the chance to escape, followed by Colm, who watched the more stiff-necked man with amusement. Edmund didn’t immediately follow them out.

He wasn’t particularly worried about the captain himself, but rather the safety of the city, which was, indeed, unraveling. Most of the officers of the city guard had come with Bramwell and had a degree of loyalty to him. While that was useful when Bramwell was under their thumb, giving them a more indirect level of control, with the captain gone and possibly someone else chosen by Serwyn in his place, that control weakened.

Something Edmund was worried about.

“Your Grace, if I may,” Edmund said carefully. “While I understand your frustration, I fear this course of action may be unwise.”

“Unwise? What would you know of wisdom, Uncle? Your counsel has led us to this point. The people openly defy me, and you would have me show weakness?”

“Not weakness, Your Majesty. Strategy. Sending Captain Bramwell away from the capital at this time could be seen as a sign of instability. The people need to see strength and order within Starhaven itself.”

“The people need to see the consequences of defiance. They need to fear their king.”

“Fear can be a powerful tool, yes. But it can also breed resentment and further rebellion if wielded too heavily. The capital is the seat of your power; we cannot afford to have it in chaos.”

“If there is any resentment, we will stamp it out. I already told you that I’ve made my decision. Captain Bramwell will lead the efforts against the rebels in the countryside. He will crush this uprising or he will face the consequences of his failure. I am growing very tired of being second-guessed.”

“I would never second-guess you, Serwyn. I simply want to offer my fullest counsel, to ensure you have all the facts that you might need.”

“Consider me informed. Now leave me.”

Edmund bowed again and backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. In the corridor, he paused, rubbing a hand over his face. Serwyn’s behavior was becoming increasingly problematic. The boy was so consumed with asserting his authority that he failed to see the larger picture. All of his father’s stubbornness wrapped in a child’s petulance.

Although it wasn’t a lost cause yet, if Edmund couldn’t rein him in he would have to start considering other options to keep the kingdom together.

Lysmir Woods, Northern Lynese

“Baron Pembroke, do you have a moment?” William asked, intercepting the baron.

“For our glorious Lord Commander, of course,” Pembroke said, giving William a smile to let him know he was teasing him.

“I’ve spent the afternoon with the quartermasters, and I’m concerned about our supply situation. What we got from the stores the Lynesians had built up is helping, but we’re essentially living off of that now. Winter is approaching and I’m not sure we will be able to continue taking what we need from the Lynesians, as it is likely they will pull back to divert forces to the southeast to deal with Maw season, we might find that our army withers and dies for want of food.”

“We still have the treasure we took. For a time, we can buy from Wernese merchants, who seem more than happy to sell to anyone they find.”

“Which is fine until the shipping lanes close. And we haven’t taken enough money to buy our way out of this.”

“You’re right, it’s a concern,” Pembroke said. “And if Duke Aldric doesn’t come through, which is looking more likely considering how much time has passed since he sailed, we’ll have to find other means to relieve the problem.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Well, we control all of the Rendalia province now and can take what the Lynesians would have normally taken as tax on the harvests. Things have calmed to our rear, so doing more than that or outright stripping the region could force us to divert men to control unrest. Most of the peasants who stayed don’t care who is in charge, as long as they’re allowed to live their lives. That, however, doesn’t completely solve the problem. This isn’t a food-producing region in general, so that will have minimal impact.”

“What about Cestralion?” William said after a moment. “It’s the largest city north of Valemonde on this side of the Lysmir River. With their forces on this side of the Lynesian plains pulled back or destroyed, there can’t be that much holding it.”

“I had the same thought, since it also has control of the southern end of Lysmir Lake and it sits at the edge of the Lysmir plains, which is a large food growing area. But we’re spread pretty thin. I’m not sure if we have the manpower for a prolonged siege or to take the city directly.”

“They don’t know that, though. We could handle a shorter siege, as long as we played it right. It’s a wealthy city. Taking it would both give us a foothold in the region and significantly more resources to resupply with, at least enough to carry us through to the winter. We could also shut down traffic from the north traveling down to Valemonde. It would cut off at least some of their supply lines, especially to the larger markets of Werna across the Merchant Sea. They’d have to take supplies and goods by land to ports like Talabot well to the west.”