Chapter 16

Ramsgate, Barony of Merrick, Kingsheart

The great hall of Ramsgate Keep was crowded beyond comfort, with lords and their attendants pressed shoulder to shoulder around tables that had been arranged in a horseshoe. Although they were in Baron Farrow’s hall, it was clear to everyone who’d called this council. Baron Sinclair held court at the center, flanked by the men who’d been supporting him the strongest, or perhaps who were trying to secure favor the most.

What wasn’t clear was the point of this whole thing. The war was still on and enemy forces still sat at either end of the territory controlled by the rebels. This did not strike Pembroke as the time to pull commanders out of the field.

The lords had been talking in circles for nearly an hour, without even a hint of a decision. The rebellion was fracturing, and everyone could feel it, but no one knew what to do to fix it.

“Seven hells, are we women to sit and wring our hands?” Baron Braithwaite slammed his fist on the table. “Duke Aldric is dead. William Whitton is lost. We need a leader, and we need one now. Not more discussion.”

Baron Loxon leaned forward, his fingers steepled before him. “The answer is in front of us. With Duke Aldric gone and Duke Windermere not able to take the mantle, that leaves the obvious choice: Duke Blackwood.”

Pembroke looked over to Sinclair. Everyone knew he thought he was the best choice, and was the type of man who would remember those who stood for someone else. Garris tried to appear neutral, but Pembroke could see his eyes narrow.

“I agree. Duke Blackwood has both command experience in the field and the respect of everyone gathered,” Braithwaite said, nodding at the Duke of Shadowhold sitting a few feet away.

“I am honored by your confidence,” Blackwood said. “But I am not the man for the job. Winter is nearly upon us, and with it comes the opening of the Maw. I’m sorry, but my duty lies with my people. The south coast must be protected when the creatures come. We have declared against the Crown, they will not be sending anyone to aid us. Even if they realize that Maw Season is a threat to everyone and not just those of us below the Kingshold, something that no Sidorian king has seemed to realize in centuries, we could not trust that support and would not accept it. We are on our own.”

He was right, and most of the men around the table knew it. Maybe not Sinclair and the other men of Iron Keep, who lived as far away from the Maw as any Sidorian save the Icelanders, but the rest were close enough to have sent men in defense of the south before.

They all knew the dangers that would be upon them in a few weeks’ time, and that Blackwood needed to be there to ensure that defense held. Especially this year when there would be much less support than ever before.

“We appreciate your service, Your Grace,” Garris said, rising to his feet. “But things may not be as bad as they seem. I bring good news from Iron Keep. The Icelanders are on the verge of defeat and their remaining forces will be broken or driven back across the narrows in a matter of days.”

“What’s more, Duke Windermere has finally seen ... the value of this rebellion and put his weight behind convincing the remaining Iron Keep baronies southeast of the Shatterstone to join our cause. We now have the full weight of Iron Keep behind us.”

“That’s welcome news, although it does not address the topic at hand,” Baron Inworth, one of the River Mark barons, said.

“On the contrary, I think it might,” Sinclair replied. “Iron Keep has been fighting this war the longest and has had the most skin in the game so far. What’s more, now, with the rest of the baronies committed, more than half the men under arms are from our duchy. Normally, this would make Duke Windermere the logical choice to lead, but his days in the saddle are far behind him. He has, however, decreed that I will take his place at the head of the Iron Keep contingent, which puts me at the vanguard of the majority of our forces. The answer is obvious.”

While those numbers were probably accurate, it occurred to Pembroke that the army still in Lynese was made up mostly of men from the River Mark and the eastern baronies. Moreover, that army was larger than the entire army they fielded. His claims only held as long as the Rendalia army did not return, and yet that army must return if they were to win, meaning the added barons gave him no more leg to stand on than anyone else present.

“That is true for now,” Pembroke said, “but only because half the men from both the River Mark and the eastern baronies are in Lynese. When William returns with that army, he will lead the majority of our forces as the head of seasoned veterans. Combined with being in the line of succession, he is the obvious choice to lead when he gets here. Until then, we are simply stewards.”