“These insults cannot go unanswered!” Landen cries, slamming his fist upon the table. His wretchedly scarred face dimly lit by torch, candle and fireplace.
“How long shall we dance while ignoring reality – this is war!” Landen says vehemently.
William leans back into his chair, looking to each of his Barons for a moment.
“Landen, is the offense so grave that resolute words cannot prevail?” He says.
"Any one of these, Sire. The reality is that shit flow up, Sire. If they say these things of the Marquis and confer insult upon him then they also insult you and everyone one of us. Braecous is a man of his word, and until it be deemed otherwise, his word is clearly without question," Landen says.
At this the room stirs for a moment, before William sets it back to silence.
"Gerad, what say you of this?" William says to the Baron of North Hold.
“Sire, Rashid’s offense is most grievous – an attack upon my very character and blood -- my honor. By all tenets of sayim, by intention or not, we are now feuding. I, now serving my rightful and fit liege, should somehow be subject to Rashid’s every caprice and knowing this he lashes out like a child. We are not children anymore though, and I surely shall not be treated as one particular when my brother is too addled by the darkness in his heart to recognize that I am most content to serve you and Osoerde,” Gerad says.
“My brother colludes with Mhoried and the Holy Order to take Morcosoer from you; they have threatened and cajoled, all in vain, but such seditious intent cannot be ignored,” Gerad says.
“I concur with my fellow liegeman – this is war,” Gerad concludes.
William looks back to Marlae and smile faintly before looking to his Chamberlain.
“Sire,” he bows deeply to the assembled lords.
“The Marquisette is surely in dire need – particularly if we have faith in at least the veracity of the words of the Holy Order of Haelyn’s Aegis. Furthermore, the Patriarch, Holy Order and it must be assumed, the Mhor as well, would use the coming of the Ogre to Morcosoer as if the creature of the Shadow were some negotiating asset from to draw from you some gain. While I have neither the right nor desire to pronounce judgment of their character, I cannot help but think that these actions are not those of a friend or potential ally, but rather of an adversary,” Tanen steps back with a both.
“Taroen, have you nothing to add?” William says to the Baron of Littoral.
“Sire, a war with Elinie detracts from the reality that not only Morcosoer is in need, but rather many of our neighbors as well. The Manslayer will stalk Aerenwe, the Baron of Coeranys is missing captured and perhaps murdered by Oorgs in the Chimaeron, the Grey Duke has stolen the Book of Laws – these are but a few of the challenges facing Anuire and as such, Osoerde. I caution that any one of these would be problematic by their lonesome, Sire – but together they represent a troubling confluence of events,” Taroen says.
“Yet, our immediate concern must be for our fellow liegeman, Braecous Bellamie. War is a dangerous proposition and I have never advocated war except as a means of peace – I believe caution is required, but for now – this is war – hopefully an opportunity for renewed diplomacy as well,” Taroen says.
William looks across the room and settles upon Savane Dhoesone.
“Maester, I have not a priest to advise them – apparently the Pontiff could not come to advise. Have you any wisdom for this matter?” William voice has a certain sense of curiousness to it; all recognize it to be a test.
“Sire,” Savane curtsies very low.
“Since the Patriarch has rebuffed any attempt at resolution through His Excellency, Baron Bellamie and His Excellency, Count Dhon – the options before you seem at best bleak and at worst, preordained. If it is not war, then you must be willing to suffer that the Patriarch, the Mhor and High Marshall, surely amongst others – shall make of you an Oath Breaker,” she says.
“While it is true that the Duchy of Tornilien and Baron Haensen provided you another way to Morcosoer, the Swordmage will demand a high price without any guarantee of continued access to Morcosoer in the future. In fact, as soon as it was convenient, one assumes that another price would be extracted, at least while you have something to give. At least this is how I understand her character by all accounts, Sire,” Savane says.
“To be frank, Sire, I it difficult to comprehend how Tornilien would ultimately be a viable solution,” she concludes.
William nods slowly and takes a heavy drink from his goblet – the room is cast is eerily silence as he stares out of the window for a few long moments.
“Tristan?”
