Tale of Four

Oliver hunched over the table, choking back the churning in his stomach as he slammed a mug of ale on the table. Despite it being called a feast before war, it was worse than any battle he had fought in; his mug was never empty as he was forced to drink over and over, the men of the Valley never giving him the opportunity to rest. Looking at Jeremy, he saw his squire wasn’t even spared, collapsed over the table with a dazed look on his face and his stomach bulging double its usual size.

A shadow covered Oliver, and looking up, he saw Hyman standing over him with a wide grin before looking at the young squire, booming with laughter. "Come." Grabbing Olivier’s shoulder, he forcefully made him stand as the men of the valley cleared the centre of the hall for the two. "I like backbone, but it’s time for the second test." Despite having seen Hymen drink more than any man in the hall, the man was steady on his feet, showing no sign of being affected by the drink, except for his rosy cheeks.

"Your grace?" Oliver got the words out as Hyman set him in place and took a step back. Slamming his feet on the ground, he smiled even wider.

"Pull your sword, brat," Hyman said, full of confidence. He looked around at the men and slammed his foot on the ground. Around the room, everyone began slamming mugs, fists and their feet, creating a drum of battle as Hyman flexed his fists, "Your sword, don’t make me ask again." Oliver stared into the giant’s eyes, with slight concern, making Hyman shake his head, "Don’t be scared, if you somehow manage to kill me. Maxwell will take my place." Hyman turned to his eldest son, "He kills me, make this man your personal guard."

Maxwell playfully chuckled and waved his hand, talking to his brother once more, not concerned about his father. Without a choice, Oliver steeled himself, his shaking vision focusing as he pulled the blade. Despite how unfair it seemed, Oliver knew better. Hyman may have been half-clothed and unarmed, but he wasn’t stupid enough to look down on him.

Seeing Hyman not make the first move, Oliver did instead, throwing a few probing jabs towards the giant of a man. Despite his size, Hyman moved quickly, expertly avoiding each one, always using the chance to close the gap between the two. Oliver’s gaze hardened as he began to change his strikes, throwing more lethal attacks that could fell the man if any single one hit.

Hymans’ smile widened despite the extra danger. Although he slowed his advance ever so slightly, he still weaved through the strikes without much issue, perfectly reading Oliver and his following strikes. The gap closed, and Oliver found himself stepping back, trying to keep the distance he had, forgetting Hyman was a Great Lord, instead seeing him as a wild beast, desperately trying to kill him.

Hyman saw the change and knew his time had come. When Oliver went for a large slash that left no room to sidestep, the man ducked and reached out, grabbing Oliver’s leg with one hand. Pulling, Oliver was shocked by how strong he was and fell, Hymans’ other fist coming down, slamming into his chest. All the air flew out of his body, and taking a deep breath, he sounded like a fish out of water.

Hyman laughed and got up, shaking his fist in pain, before grabbing Oliver and picking him up. "You ain’t from the Valley’s brat," Hyman said with certainty.

"The... Flatlands.... Your.... Grace." Each word was a struggle to say as Oliver dropped his sword. Looking at Hyman, he had a few small cuts where he had barely grazed him when he dodged, but that was all. Grinding his teeth, he looked down, unable to believe the gap was so large, but more importantly, how someone so big could move so quickly and nimbly.

Hyman felt the warmth of blood from one of the cuts running down his chest and scooped it up with his thumb. Looking at it, he chuckled and went back to his throne, "I like backbone, but don’t pull something like that again, believing it doesn’t carry risk." Falling down on it, he looked around at his men, most half drunk, the rest completely. "Let us begin." Two tables were placed before HYman as a massive map was sprawled out atop them.

"Sunflare will side with us," Hyman said, staring at the map. Narrowing his eyes, Ralph moved pieces along the map, placing those of a Star on the loyalist houses. "Carter." Growling the words, it was enough and a rat on the traitors, "Makepiece." Another rat fell on top of Hampton. Hyman fell silent. Those were the two he could know for certain would betray Anton, but the rest were a coin flip. "Suggestions?"

"Hyman." An old man with a long grey beard stepped forward, lacking the respect a vassal should have with their lord. Despite the disrespect, no one said anything. Oliver stared at the old warrior, in leather armour with a large axe on his back and understood why.

"Roderick." Hyman leaned forward, staring into an old friend’s eyes, "Don’t tell me you wish to run to the King’s side before me again."

"You know you were always dearly missed on the hills." Everyone stayed silent, seeing Roderick speak, his reputation preceding him. To the rest of the realm, he was a Hill Born, but to the people of the Valley, there was another name that inspired only fear: ’The Rabid Dog of the Island’, the man who took care of the Lord’s dirty work when he couldn’t do it himself.

Oliver wondered why he was even there, knowing the island Roderrick’s family came from was on the opposite end of the Valley from Epton, but he brushed it aside. Roderick looked around and saw many of the men look away, chuckling, "We made a mistake when the desert rose last time. We hid in Seven Spire, scared to take the battle to Carter. Not this time. Let me lead the vanguard."

"No chance." Hyman happily said, "I will not let you have glory again, my friend, but I do not have a trusted man by my side." Roderick smirked and shurgged, stepping back. "Anyone else? Movement of the Other Great lords, tactics, anything?" Hyman said, staring at the man as another man stepped forward. "Lord Tusk."

"Your grace, Lord Raven won’t move south of the mountain range." Going over to the map, he stared at Hampton and the Artlands, nestled between the North, Crownlands, Flatlands and Twin Peaks. "If the Blackwells side with King Anton, we can effectively surround them. After all, have the Flatlands ever rallied behind a cause without letting the rest of them bloody one another?"

"Blackwell." Hyman’s eye twitched as he ground his teeth, "Never trust a Blackwell, Lord Tusk."

"But if they side with the King, then they will be our ally in war." Lord Tusk refused to budge and stared at the map, "The King can strike Hampton from the South, Lady Blackwell from the east. Their only escape would be west, but by moving through the Flatlands, it could force Lord Clover’s hand. I doubt he would be willing to dedicate himself to one side of the cause so quickly."

"Ifs. Too many ifs. If Blackwell sides with us. If Clover stays neutral." Hyman shook his head, "Worthless advice."

"I believe there is merit to lord Tusks’ words." Roderick said, stepping forward with a sly grin underneath his beard, "He is just foolish in where it is directed." His words got a few men to laugh as Roderick walked to the map, "Our main concern is who the Blackwells pledge to. Of course, we never trust a Blackwell, but should they align with the King, then our main focus will be to secure the Waterway. It is the only crossing that can be used by an army to stage an attack into both the CrownLands and Hilllands."

"Lord Sunflare will likely take charge of that," Hyman said, making Roderick shake his head.

"It is currently in Lord Elvissia’s hands. It is impossible to lay a siege upon it without cutting their supply, especially if they offer their support for Prince Brandon and have the Deserts backing." With a smile, Roderick placed a new piece on the map over Seven Spire, the crossing between the Desert and Valleys, pushing it around to cut off the WaterWay. "What I proposed isn’t to hold Seven Spire, Hyman, but to cut off the Waterway and lay siege on it from three angles, that is, if the King can aid us."

Hyman rested on his fist and thought, nodding after a moment, "Done, but you won’t lead this, Roderick. I need a man I can trust to march to Saltpoint with me." Looking around, Hyman looked at his men, "Lord Bunker." Looking at the clean-shaven thin man, he smiled, "You’re in charge. Clear a path to the Waterway. When I have secured Salpoint and the Desert Gate, I will send men to assist you."

Oliver saw Roderick frown but say nothing, bowing. Lord Bunker did the same as the two retreated back to their seats. Seeing an opportunity, Oliver stood up, "My Lord. In the event Waterway must not be besieged, and the Blackwells support Prince Bradon, how shall we act?" Hyman stared at Oliver, waiting for him to propose something first, "I can’t claim to have intimate knowledge of the Great Lords and their respective seats of power, but."

Moving around the map, Olivier placed himself beside the Bridgeway and Twin Peaks, "I have heard stories about Bridgeway. For the Deserts, I believe you are all more knowledgeable about how to deal with them. Bridgeway, however, is said to be unconquerable from land and sea, sitting high above the waterway below with only one entrance via a small, narrow path. The men of the Valley are, however, famed for their skill at navigating steep terrain."

Pushing a star acorss the sea, next to Bridgeway, he carried on, "It is risky, but Hampton has the clearest path to Everlight. With Bridgeway’s support, they will be forcing the Crownlands to pull nearly everything away from the south. We would need to be a relief more so than Lord Sunflare is if this comes to pass. Soemthing they would not expect but threatens them greatly."

Hyman stayed silent, closing his eyes for a moment. After a moment, he shook his head, "Too unfeasible for a large force, but will be kept in mind if required." Hyman looked around, "Any more?"

"My lord." Another man stood up and sighed, "We don’t have enough informaiton as of the moment. Our best bet is to summon the banners and see. We can take control of the key crossings and forts, but we need to wait for the moment. Our North is protected by Lord Sunflare, so we can risk pulling men away, bar a garrison force."

Hyman looked down and took a deep breath, "Send word to the King." Looking to Maxwell, Hyman frowned, "Tell him we are ready to march, but we need to know who our allies are."

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