"We canât bear the thought of losing you again..."
With those words, Loghlan completely set aside the power and prestige of a baron and spoke to his son as a father. If his son needed time in order to chase after the goals heâd set for himself, then Loghlan would give it, and gladly. If doing so meant that Loghlan had to bear the burden and the blame for whatever happened as a result of their decision today, then he would do that too.
Loghlan couldnât protect his son from every hardship or danger that came his way. Doing so would only stifle him. But there were limits to the risks a man should take, and he was already worried that the path his son had chosen was an extreme one that led to tremendous rewards in exchange for taking even greater risks.
And if Sir Ollie was any indication of the sort of people that Lady Ashlynn valued, then Liam would surely be pushed to his limits and beyond them in the days to come.
The silence in the tent stretched on for several long moments after Loghlan spoke, broken only by the soft crackle of the candles and the occasional shift of weight as someone adjusted their position in their chair. The hour that Sir Ollie had given them was drawing to a close, and everyone knew that they needed to make a decision soon, but no one seemed ready to speak the words yet, even though most had already made up their minds about where they stood.
In the end, it was Sir Brennus who finally broke the silence, clearing his throat as he leaned forward to place both hands on the table in front of him.
"My lord," Brennus said carefully in a tone that was both respectful and firm. "I believe we need to consider the option of standing aside from this conflict, at least for now."
"Go on," Baron Loghlan said, schooling his features once more into the carefully neutral expression of a seasoned ruler as he did his best to set aside a fatherâs worries. He couldnât completely suppress the gnawing fears in his heart, but he could at least turn away from them for a moment to face his other fears, the ones that threatened to consume his entire realm if he didnât make the right decision.
"Unlike many of the other barons in Lothian March," Brennus explained, gesturing toward the map spread across the table. "The northern border of Dunn Barony is near the Crew March and the rest of the Kingdom of Gaal. We arenât trapped between Lady Ashlynnâs forces and the wilderness like Baron Aleese or Baron Fayle are. We have options that they donât."
He traced a finger along the northern edge of their territory on the map, where the village of Riverstone stood along with a few small hamlets that defined the northernmost edge of both the Dunn Barony and Lothian March. It didnât quite extend all the way to the southern edge of Crew March; there was a gap of between twenty and fifty leagues where the terrain was rough, and the Eldritch still held a few strongholds of their own, but it came very close.
"Just because borders will be redrawn doesnât mean that the new border has to cede the entirety of Lothian March to Lady Ashlynn," Brennus continued. "If we stand aside, if we remain neutral in this conflict, then perhaps we can negotiate with both sides. We could maintain our lands as part of the kingdom by joining with Marquis Crew," he suggested.
"It might take some negotiation with the de-, er, the Eldritch people that still live to the north of us," Sir Brennus said as he fleshed out the idea. "It would likely take Lady Ashlynn acting as a mediator, but we could concede some of our land to the west in exchange for enough territory to the north to have a safe passage between the baronies of Dunn and Tibraeth."
"It might mean giving up a few of our western hamlets," the senior knight admitted. "But it would also mean protecting our people from being caught in the middle of a war with the Lothians that they didnât ask for."
Sir Brennus didnât sound like a passionate advocate for the plan heâd just offered, and the look he gave Lord Loghlan when he looked up from the map made that clear. He wasnât putting the plan forward because he thought it was the best one, but because it was his duty as one of Baron Loghlanâs most senior knights to ensure that they gave consideration to every alternative, even if it meant walking away from the tremendous benefits that accompanied Lady Ashlynnâs generous offer.
"If we stand aside," Brennus said quietly. "We at least preserve the option of choosing our side later, when we have more information about how this conflict will unfold."
Before Baron Loghlan could respond, Lady Cerys leaned forward in her seat, her hands clasped tightly around the pendant of the radiant sun that hung at her throat.
"Sir Brennus is right," she said, her voice carrying an edge of desperation that made several people at the table shift uncomfortably. "We have to think about what this means for our peopleâs souls, not just their lands or their safety. If we join with Lady Ashlynn, if we accept her rule and integrate with these... Eldritch," she said, using the word only reluctantly when she saw the look Liam gave her growing hard.
"If we integrate with them and allow ourselves to be ruled by witches and vampires," she continued, pressing on despite the hostile looks she was drawing from around the table. "Then weâre condemning everyone in our territory to be declared heretics by the Church."
Her voice grew stronger as she spoke, conviction burning in her eyes even as her husband, Sir Cynwrig, reached out to place a warning hand on her arm.
"Donât you see?" Cerys continued, shaking off her husbandâs touch. "It isnât just about politics or territories or who sits on which throne. This is about our duty as people chosen by the Holy Lord of Light to protect our peopleâs path to the Heavenly Shores."
"Lord Loman preached about this very thing from the temple in Lothian City just this summer," she insisted. "He said called on all noblemen and knights to remember their duty to care for those who were less fortunate, to feed the hungry and shelter the homeless because if we didnât, then the poor could only struggle to survive, and they would never be able to struggle toward the light if the only way to fill their bellies was to turn to wickedness and crime."
"We owe it to our people," Lady Cerys said, her voice dropping to something almost pleading. "We owe it to them to shield them from that wickedness, from that fate. How can we call ourselves their lords and ladies if we lead them into heresy?"
"How can we face the Holy Lord of Light when our time comes and explain that we chose power, wealth, and lands over the salvation of the people we were meant to protect?"