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Post by ironaquilifer on Jun 18, 2021 18:28:56 GMT -5
The High Septon enjoyed a moment of peace as the lordlings raised their voices to stake their pretences. To see them in such a state, of that bickering that so commonly came to those who did not hold scripture in their hearts, once gave him joy. It had been that bickering which so sowed the fields that he may ascend to speak for the gods. But alas, the bickering came to nought. Perhaps the weariness of war and death was truly still about them.
His eyes frowned at the voice of the Lady of Hightower, she whose family so openly defied his will. Though the words sounded true, the High Septon was not one to so easily forgive. Not when the realm had need of him. But when those words were joined by that of Tarly's, and further met by the Storm's, the High Septon could not refuse the message that was being sent to him.
"To take the life of a free man is a matter that is not decided by the will of any but the gods. You have all suffered great sorrows for this sacriledge, as your forebearers did before you. We will not permit the gods to be further insulted by yet more godly men bleeding for the false promise of worldly salvation.
Peace must be the result of this gathering. A peace which is pleasing to god will be our salvation in the hereafter." The High Septon made it plain that he knew what this peace would look like.
"We have heard the claims of those who would be named king. And we have heard the name of Tyrell be raised more than any other. The lady Catheryne remains the one rightful lord of Highgarden, and from her blood of Tyrell the rightful crown of the Reach belongs upon her." His eyes washed over the attendees, gauging the reactions. "And yet Lady Catheryne is of the gentler sex and not yet of age besides. It clear that she is of a need for council from those who would not dare to steal her rights for themselves nor to pervert her education as to her place in this realm. To that end it is our wish for Lady Catheryne to be relinquished into the care and protection of the Most Devout. Under our tutelage she will learn of the good and seemingly manner by which a monarch must govern their people." The High Septon seemed to growel the last sentence.
"Until such a time as she reaches the age of maturity, a regency of godly men will be in place."
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 19, 2021 6:54:01 GMT -5
"Peace! For a moment, if you all will!" Dickon called, raising his hands into the air in a pacifying gesture. He drew in a deep breath and held himself tall. He, Eleanor, his mother and Talla had all been over what was needed multiple times. He had to make the other see. "I will not lean only on historical claims to the throne. Indeed, I cannot. As has been elucidated so clearly by both Ser Horas and Lady Rhonda there are few in the Reach who cannot claim such a lineage." He paused for a moment, turning to each as he named them and offering a nod, though the nod towards Horas was notably stiffer and shallower. "The legacy of Garth Greenhand runs in the blood of every man, and woman, from the Reach, and in direct lineage can hardly be traced. Nor, I feel, is the claim of Tyrell still sufficient."He turned to the High Septon and spoke, "Under the eyes of the Seven, the Reach flourished for many centuries. If the claim of ancient lineage is to be respected, then any could demand the Seat of Highgarden by birthright, and the Reach will never find itself at peace again. If the claim of House Tyrell to the throne were to be held sacrosanct, then my house has as much claim as them, for they earned their seat by bending the knee to Tyrell rule, as my father did years past. But I submit that in these times, right to rule comes not from ancient blood, nor can it be granted by Targaryens from across the Seas. Indeed, we must now choose out of need." Lord Tarly cast his attention back to the rest of those gathered and spoke yet louder, letting his voice cast throughout the room as if it were a battlefield. "My Lords and Ladies, and gentle folk of the Reach. Standing before you are four men," a brief gesture indicated himself, Edric, and the Rewyne twins, "By whose hand the life-giving land of the Reach has been sowed with death, the Mander left to run red. I do not presume to speak for the Seven, but I cannot imagine it is their will that the few remaining good men in the world emerge from the world's end only to die upon the battlefield in what amounts to a squabble between siblings. The conflict must end."Another deep breath, and he resumed his previous posture, hands folded behind his back, as if he inspected a line of troops. That is all this is, a speech before the men, nothing more. "I am here to declare before you all and under the eyes of the Seven and their representative on Westeros, that I have had enough. Save in defense of me and mine, I will not raise my sword to shed the blood of my people. Hells, I certainly do not wish to march against my own niece! And I would see all such foolishness come to an end. We find ourselves at the threshold of a new era, and power proven through force of arms alone is something that I would see left behind." He cast a veiled glance towards Edric and Hobber, who now glared at each other like young stags preparing to vye for dominance. "And because we find ourselves at this threshold, those of us gathered in this hall have the chance to change the world we live in for the better. The world is still a dangerous place, but the Reach at least can stand united. Might alone does not grant one the right to rule, but strength of arms will be necessary in the coming days. Ser Edric certainly has strength of arms, but he is a warrior, not a soldier. A soldier must know when to sheate his blade, a skill which I fear that Ser Storm has not yet honed. He speaks of freedom, yet for years none have seen my niece nor her family. How are we truly to know her will in any of this? He would set her as Lady over us all, but insists on speaking for her on all fronts. I call this laughable. Yet he does speak truly when he speaks of the people of the Reach. Whoever is to rule must do so because they have the good of the Reach and all her people in their heart. For this reason, and I mean as little insult as can possibly be taken from such a statement, I cannot endorse the claim of Ser Horas and Ser Hobber, for their pageantry reveals that they seek greater station and importance for themselves."One final push now, a cavalry charge surging against a flank that would either grant or cost him the victory. "My proposal, then, is a new council. The Iron Throne is no more, we stand alone, and I would see us prosper now. My niece's claim to Highgarden itself I support, as her hereditary seat. Let Lady Catherine be brought here and allowed to speak for herself, in the company of these who we know will protect her, if it comes to that. But I cannot yet support her as lone ruler of the Reach. Instead, those who would hold power for the good of others know that they cannot rule alone. You may view the position I ask as a sort of Queen's Hand, in the terms of the old order - I truly believe that my Stewardship would give the Reach the greatest chance to do so. Of my rivals, I would not see them cast out or killed, for the Reach needs all of the strong capable men, and all the flower of her nobility we have left. Each of them could have a role on the council. Masters of ships and war, perhaps. The Faith, of course, should have a seat, for we need the light of the Seven more than ever in these times. And perhaps we have held ourselves apart long enough, and the smallfolk deserve their own representative among the mighty of the land, to ensure that we truly have their interests at heart, as Ser Edric claims?" He cast a glance towards the rabble which had been brought in to view the pomp of the day. "We can no longer spend our days squabbling as was done in the time before the Long Night. If anything should have proved to us the error of our ways it was that winter, and yet we turn back to the same foolish wars. Let us stand now together, and show the rest of Westeros that in the Reach, we remain proud, and will emerge stronger than before." The High Septon enjoyed a moment of peace as the lordlings raised their voices to stake their pretences. To see them in such a state, of that bickering that so commonly came to those who did not hold scripture in their hearts, once gave him joy. It had been that bickering which so sowed the fields that he may ascend to speak for the gods. But alas, the bickering came to nought. Perhaps the weariness of war and death was truly still about them. His eyes frowned at the voice of the Lady of Hightower, she whose family so openly defied his will. Though the words sounded true, the High Septon was not one to so easily forgive. Not when the realm had need of him. But when those words were joined by that of Tarly's, and further met by the Storm's, the High Septon could not refuse the message that was being sent to him. "To take the life of a free man is a matter that is not decided by the will of any but the gods. You have all suffered great sorrows for this sacriledge, as your forebearers did before you. We will not permit the gods to be further insulted by yet more godly men bleeding for the false promise of worldly salvation. Peace must be the result of this gathering. A peace which is pleasing to god will be our salvation in the hereafter." The High Septon made it plain that he knew what this peace would look like. " We have heard the claims of those who would be named king. And we have heard the name of Tyrell be raised more than any other. The lady Catheryne remains the one rightful lord of Highgarden, and from her blood of Tyrell the rightful crown of the Reach belongs upon her." His eyes washed over the attendees, gauging the reactions. " And yet Lady Catheryne is of the gentler sex and not yet of age besides. It clear that she is of a need for council from those who would not dare to steal her rights for themselves nor to pervert her education as to her place in this realm. To that end it is our wish for Lady Catheryne to be relinquished into the care and protection of the Most Devout. Under our tutelage she will learn of the good and seemingly manner by which a monarch must govern their people." The High Septon seemed to growel the last sentence. " Until such a time as she reaches the age of maturity, a regency of godly men will be in place."
Tarly's words surprised him. Was the man in a weaker position than he let on, or was the Lord of Horn Hill truly that altruistic? A council was the way forwards, to be sure, though it was not yet the time to reveal his own desires. In Volantis, to speak openly and forthrightly in such a way was a weakness. To know what a man wants is to hold his soul in your hands. They regarded life as a game of cards or dice. He had learned this the hard way."Septons pray. Lords rule. This has been the way of things for all time." Storm cautiously protested, ignoring the leering Hobber. "The Reach needs a strong ruler, not a Septa. If there is to be a regency council, then we would shoulder this burden along with the devout."Surely the lords of the Reach would not appreciate once again being shut out from ruling their own realm. Their problem would come full circle, with Catheryne cloistered and controlled to be a puppet for the Faith. None wanted the entire Reach to be ruled by a gang of armed fanatics. And he definitely was not handing over his winning piece over to the High Septon on a silver platter. Or to anyone else, for that matter.
Fossoway groaned. Handing his cousin over to the Faith would be a waking nightmare, but he doubted even Storm was that stupid. A council is all well and fine, but the involvement of the clerics and commoners perturbed him. The exalted kinsmen of the Gardeners had the right and bloodline to steward the realm for the Lady Catheryne, and decide her husband when the time was right. But none else.
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Post by AxBrew Sunster on Jun 19, 2021 13:46:24 GMT -5
Lord Tarly's sword hand twitched almost imperceptibly when the Septon spoke, but he kept his hands clasped firmly and showed no other immediate reaction. Instead, his gaze swept across the crowd, trying to gauge reactions. He could not imagine that the highborn of the Reach, at least, would care for this upstart holy man's interference. The peasantry, on the other hand, could be dangerous - they often flocked to the Seven in times of crisis, and in turn to anyone who alleged to speak for them. He had been hoping to keep the Faith on his side during this process; he did respect the gods, for what fool would not? However, it was quickly becoming apparent that this Septon was one of two things, neither of which should be allowed rule of the Reach. Either he leveraged his position as leader of the Faith for his own personal, earthly gain, or he was an unstable madman who truly believed he spoke for the Seven.
Dickon brought his dark gaze to rest on Edric Storm, and fixed the bastard with it, though it no longer seemed to be a challenge. Perhaps he would find a different ally than he had expected in coming to this council. If nothing else, he felt he could count on the new Lord of Brightwater's pragmatism and determination, even if he lacked a true lord's honor. And by all accounts he had not forced himself upon Catherine yet, for whatever minute mark in his favor that might represent.
"I find myself in agreement with Ser Edric, Your Holiness." He added his voice "I would not see the Faith alone take up this calling. Though we have cost the Reach much, and I regret our actions, we have experience with governing men, and would make the task easier. I would see all of the godly men in the Reach left free to tend to the spiritual needs of the people as we recover from what has past, and my niece will need people who are practiced in the ways of rule to give her some education as well. While all of our souls are obviously what is most important, while we find ourselves bound to this material world, there are still more mundane tasks which must be accomplished, and a ruler cannot forsake those."
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 19, 2021 14:03:56 GMT -5
Among the nobles, there were some rumblings of discontent. Lord Peake and Lady Caswell, prominent voices in the Tarly and Redwyne camps, both voice misgivings at the idea of the realm being governed by the most devout. Those lords who had not yet declared seem slightly more amenable, though they view it to be the best option in a bad situation rather than anything truly desirable.
On the other hand, the common rabble seem extremely enthused with the prospect of the Septon assuming control of the regency. They shout and stamp their feet to indicate their assent, and but for the swords of the Faith the overzealous people of Oldtown would have let their excitement spill into violence. Many among the nobility look visibly discomforted by this.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 19, 2021 14:50:28 GMT -5
"Hear ye, or despair the fallen favor of the Crone's wisdom! When wicked men seek to gorge themselves on the bones of faithful men, they find naught but ash and fire in their mouths."
Eyes turned toward the back of the crowd, where Jon Manderwynd had risen from amongst his followers. His eyes stared at the four pretenders, his gaze burning with purpose. He continued, pointing at Storm, Tarly and the Redwynes.
"Four men have spoken today, four men who seek the golden calf, unwilling to see the rotting carcass beneath its shining skin. These wolves who have torn the flower field in their hunt for power, spilling rivers of blood in their wake. Shame! Shame on thee, slayer of kin, the deepest pits of the Seven Hells reserved for such sins! Yet power you still seek, power to kill and burn and rape when the faithful flock of the Seven Above starve and die and lose their lot. What will your golden crown be, but a mountainous burden, when your throne is built upon the bones of the innocent?"
The Sparrows, the zealous peasants with the red star upon their chests, started to shout in agreement, hurling insults at the four lords. Jon continued after a momentary pause. One hand on his heart, he pointed towards the heavens.
"Father Above judge our transgressions, blind sheep that we are. Yet the light is before us, and salvation is not yet lost. The law, as ordained by the will of the representatives of the Faith upon this Earth, stands strong as pillars of stone. The Seven Ordinances leads the faithful flock, gives them freedom and security in these dark times. Let not the reign of wicked lords nor the temptations of devil-worshippers harm your immortal souls! All who follow the Faith must let the will of the Heavens be their guide!"
Jon turned his gaze toward Storm, Tarly and the Redwynes once more.
"I ask you, lords whose souls may yet be saved, who amongst you stand with the Faith and the People? Whomever among you would uphold the law as dictated by the most faithful, protect the weak and powerless, and end this bloodshed of innocent blood?"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 19, 2021 18:21:37 GMT -5
Storm's face turned as red as a ripened tomato, and his hands balled into fists. He had bitten his tongue for long enough.
"Shove your Seven Hells up your backside. I did not come here to be scolded like a damned child, or to be threatened by a muddy rabble!" Edric bellowed like a wounded animal, fighting to be heard over the clamour of the lowborn. His dignity had suffered enough in this meeting without being pilloried by a mob of ragged churls. He was a king's son, damn them, and bastard or not the common filth would know it. If they were not in the Sept, he imagined leaping among them and smashing the smug preacher's face into bloody ruin. Where would your damned Gods be on the battlefield, you whoreson?
For a moment, he thought to leave, but that would only serve to weaken his position. Use your head, you oaf. Breathe. With a gaze that screamed bloody murder, he ground his teeth like an axe on a whetstone. It had been his impulse to court the common people at first, but a proverb from the Free Cities now rung true; 'the mob is a sword without a hilt'. Even Manderwynd would have difficulty wielding it, he suspected, such circumstances change. Better the devil you know.
Then Edric finally met Tarly's gaze with his own, and understood the implication that rested behind his eyes. They would turn the kingdom itself into a Sept, defiling the ancient pacts between King and God that judged their laws separate. The Targaryen kings would be rolling in their graves.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 19, 2021 18:31:52 GMT -5
Horas and Hobbler looked at each other when the High Septon made a 'compromise' that was hardly a compromise. It heavily favored the zealotry that was nothing but a problem in the Reach and disfavored, to the point outright ostracizing, the nobility. What would be a council of 'godly and holy' regents would be nothing but an attempt to expand the High Septon and his zealots and displace the old order, a hierarchy that had stood since the Age of Heroes. If Garth Greenhand, and his Gardener descendants, had ears in the next world, they would certainly be outraged. Horas spoke first to this.
This is nothing but a blatant attempt to override the natural order of our homeland!
Horas barks loudly. The Faith was just as seditious as they called themselves holy and pious.
Why, I would not be surprised if Lady Tyrell was not advised to retire by these so called 'godly and holy' regents and hand power over the Faith?
It was a far-reaching accusation, but Horas was in no mood with these zealots. They had come to the High Septon who offered to arbitrate. Instead, this old bag was now trying to backstab them and ensure the continued rise of the Faith over the nobility and knights of the Reach.
The Faith tends to the people, we, the nobility, govern the land and protect it. The Faith has no right to the latter.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 20, 2021 5:50:27 GMT -5
"Us women are of age at four-and-ten, time of our flowering"
Said Lady Rhonda. She had to reprive a shiver when the Septon spoke. Such a regency could not be tolerated, but Lady Hightower had to save face and keep supporting the Faith.
"It will be but a short regency. Merely a year or so"
She had to think fast.
"In order to appease everyone, it should be a council of both the Faith and a few chosen noblemen. Men of proper morals and without no interest in claiming Highgarden, thus, we would be sure they do not covet Lady Catheryne's rightful seat. The men of the sword and the men of the cloth together in unison ruling the land, as it should be"
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 20, 2021 11:40:21 GMT -5
The Sparrows in the audience howled their insults at Storm and the Redwynes, if they had carried weapons they probably would have leapt at the blasphemous nobles in their anger and torn them to pieces. Jon Manderwynd stared at his opponents, his face just as red as Storm's.
"Blasphemers! Heretics! Sinners undeserving of the Mother's love! You sully this sacred summit with your black hearts and black tongues! You are enemies of the Faith and the People, and all the realm shall know you as such! Let your blood turn to lead and your bones to dust, and may the crows feast on your flesh! No septon shall give you blessings, no true warrior lend you aid! All true believers of the Faith shall know you as the heretics you are, and the Father's justice shall be swift and merciful!"
With that, Jon Manderwynd turned and left the Starry Sept, his followers close behind. It was clear that the peasant army following the mad septon had little interest in discussions and compromises - it was the will of the Seven, or the fury of the mob.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 20, 2021 14:15:49 GMT -5
Well, that concludes negotiations.
So much for a council. Manderwynd was out for blood. But the Faith had been the first to show steel.
"There will be no peace while that man leads an armed rabble against us." Edric glowered, jabbing a finger at the mob as the Warrior's Sons stood aside to let them pass. Oldtown had become a den of fanatics, it seemed, for many that did not even wear the Red Star cheered the name of the ragged preacher and praised the Gods in his name. No doubt his ranks would swell, but it would serve to win Edric some respite from Tarly's forces and the Redwyne blockade. They could not ignore an army of marauding peasants.
"In the house of the Gods, he threatens me with fire and death. And yet he calls himself a Septon!" Storm chuckled mirthlessly. He turned back towards the dais on which the High Septon sat. "I would not have such men on any council, lest we be slain in the first session by a rout of angered preachers."
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Post by AxBrew Sunster on Jun 20, 2021 23:15:32 GMT -5
Tarly had stood silent and still, letting the Septon's zealous diatribe flow past him, unmoved as a boulder in a stream. When the man had at last left, his mouth tightened into a line as he turned along with Storm back towards the High Septon. "I am no man of the cloth, so I would not presume to cast judgement upon your flock, your Grace, but it seems that this Manderwynd flings many words and says very little. Were I as inclined to metaphor as him, I might suggest that his honeyed words drip from a forked tongue." His face remained largely impassive, though a twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed that his feelings towards the recently departed rabble-rouser were somewhat harsher than his placid tone might indicate.
"I find that once again I must agree with Ser Edric. If the Septon has his way, the rule of the faith would be marred by as much senseless conflict as under any power-hungry noble. His passion is admirable, but I fear it is misplaced at best. Or... self-interested... at worst. If the Faith wishes a seat upon a potential council, that seems a reasonable request. Septons for the people, and nobles for the land it may be, but I could not begrudge those who watch the people a say in what happens to the land the people inhabit. However, it is clear that the Faithful men we are surrounded by today could hardly run a kingdom. Men will follow them, as we can see, but they have not the slightest idea what to do with those men besides point them like an oversized blade at any whom they take issue with."
He spread his hands apart, a beseeching gesture. "I would ask then, Your Grace, that you rebuke the habit of appealing to faith to support threats of violence, and consider the ways in which we may work together, to stop the land from falling into the hands of men like Manderwynd, whether they be among the Faithful or the nobility."
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Post by ironaquilifer on Jun 22, 2021 17:38:34 GMT -5
The High Septon did not react as the nobles reacted to his proclamations. He had expected as such from their like. It was not long ago that he had pitted himself against the proficiencies of Hightower for the heart and soul of Oldtown, resulting in the Common Council and their rousing of the faithful to gods' work. And to hear Manderwynd after so long was worth the momentary ire of the amassed riches of the Reach. There went a man who knew his duty.
"The Faith must step in because you have failed, lords." He did not happily add the honourific. "You have slain the faithful not by given right of the gods but in your own names and seen the heart of the One Faith torn apart. And as there stands no chosen king among your number it falls to us as the highest authority to take up regency for our lady Catheryne whom is to be crowned at a time following her education in the manner of the best of us."
The man allowed his eyes to linger upon the doors through which he had recently watched the faithful leave. For one, brief moment he wished that it were his feet being guided north now. But no, it was his duty to keep them planted, here and now.
"She will name a castellan to collect the taxes of Highgarden, whom we can imagine would fall to Lord Storm. And for the council, that preacher is not counted as one number among the Most Devout, nor a keeper of advice to the workings of the Faith." For now, the High Septon conceeded to himself. "Lady Hightower makes good speech of the necessity for the neutrality of any council. Upon your renunciation of any and all thoughts to the control of Highgarden, Lords Redwyne and Tarly would be welcomed to matters as they pertain to the general tending of the faithful. But have no allusions that such a council would serve any matter but the safeguarding of this realm for the faithful."
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 23, 2021 7:59:56 GMT -5
Edric grunted in understanding. Manderwynd’s part in the Faith’s plan made a sudden sense, as well as their wider ambitions for the Reach. It was time to change tact.
”We are putting the cart before the horse, my lords. There can be no council without peace first established. I would not lay down my sword simply to get a knife in the back for my troubles.”
He shot Redwyne a pointed look, a glint of mischief in the weathered eyes.
”I wish that my betrothal be recognised by all present, being witnessed by several men here and sanctioned by a Septon. Then I would have my recognition as Lord of Brightwater, as a legitimate son of King Robert Baratheon and Lady Delena Florent. Finally, oaths of friendship, sworn in this very Sept, and the Redwyne armies withdrawn from Lady Catherine’s seat at Highgarden.”
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 23, 2021 10:55:35 GMT -5
Horas looks in the direction of Edric.
Ah yes, a betrothal witnessed by outsiders and mercenaries. Individuals who are nothing but yesmen for this here bastard. I suspect the Septon had a sword at his throat given the rough characters that surround you, Storm. It would hardly seen as a lawful betrothal in anyone's eyes that is outside of your circle, bastard Storm.
Redwyne gestures his thumb at Storm. He was hardly amused with this man's conduct.
If our troops were to withdraw from Highgarden, then anyone who sits in Highgarden would have no protection. After all, it was ransacked and pillaged by uncontrollable mobs.
Horas continues to speak as his eyes now turn to the High Septon.
Redwyne troops can guarantee the security of any in the halls of Highgarden and ensure that it is refortified. There is no reason for their withdrawal given the bandits and cutthroats in the Reach.
His eyes then glance at Storm.
After all, Highgarden without bastions and walls will be naked to any and all threats.
Horas would not give up the advantage they had. Else, they would need to seek a new means to ensure their dominance.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 23, 2021 11:15:42 GMT -5
The bastard chortled merrily. They had taken the bait, pair of oafs that they were.
”The monster that saved the Lady Tyrell from you, black hearted rogues that you are. You would have liked nothing better than to drown your own cousin. I have secured her from you, my lords, who I name as the true danger to peace. There is no bandit or cutthroat worse than a kinslayer.”
Storm gestured into the ranks of his own men, grinning from ear to battered ear.
”Ser Estermont, Ser Blackberry, Ser Gower, and Lady Margaery herself were witness to our contract. Do you doubt the words of sworn knights? Men who were fighting heathens while you were pissing your britches in the Arbor in fear of the Greyjoys?” He paused briefly to turn back to the twins to continue his diatribe. “I would not trust you to defend a homestead. Take your ships from the Mander and skulk back to your island. Better men will defend Lady Catheryne’s patrimony.”
Edric turned away from them, disgust visible in his gaze.
“I have stated my terms for peace. I will willingly disband my men and lay down arms if they are adhered to, but I will not risk the lives of myself, my men, or the Lady Catheryne by blindly walking into a Redwyne trap.”
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