For several minutes, Henri sat in silence as he considered his fatherâs question. Heâd already expected that things between the Blackwells and the Lothians might become strained, but heâd been thinking of the Blackwells as a mercantile power, known for their wealth and the prosperity that flowed through their port.
Heâd never considered that they had a fighting force large enough to rival a Duchy combined with the wealth to see that force properly armed and armored. But... did it matter?
"Rhys canât strike at the Lothians easily," Henri concluded. "The River Luath isnât navigable through Otker Canyon. Rhys can only bring his dromons so far upriver before heâs forced to leave them behind, and then he loses much of his fighting strength. Even if his sailors are fierce on the water, against the Lothians who sharpen their swords against demons..."
"The Blackwells have been policing the seas and destroying pirate fleets for generations," Thibert reminded his son. "Theyâre every bit as sharp of a sword as our own army is. Better at some things, worse than others. I expect theyâd lose on the open field against organized cavalry," Thibert mused.
"But Iâd never want to face them in close quarters that resemble the cramped confines of a ship at sea... or the corridors of a castle," the king said pointedly.
"So, what do we do?" Henri asked. It was clear that his father had reasoned through everything heâd thought of and more, and it was just as clear that secrets he wasnât privy to would shape the crownâs response in ways that Henri couldnât anticipate. Any hopes heâd had for delivering a clever solution his father hadnât considered vanished the instant he learned about the power of the Blackwell Fleet.
"Take these," Thibert said, retrieving the stack of rolled-up decrees and handing them to Henri. "You have a day to assemble our delegation for Bors Lothianâs funeral," the king said. "Take ten knights and five hundred fighting men with you when you go. Iâve already sent a message to Count Hubert Gaud; heâll accompany you as your advisor with a force of five knights and another hundred men."
"Six hundred men and a dozen knights may not be enough to do anything meaningful by the time I arrive in Lothian, Father," Henri pointed out as he considered the number of Holy Warriors that might already be in Lothian by the time he arrived.
"True," Thibert agreed, tapping the stack of decrees. "Thatâs why youâll pass by DuLac, Trevarthan, and Keating on your way," he explained. "Iâll send messengers with orders to hold their delegations until you arrive. Each one will be commanded to send ten knights and two hundred fighting men with you, doubling the size of your forces by the time you arrive in Lothian."
"Thatâs an army of more than a thousand men," Henri said, nearly dropping his goblet as he considered the implications of arriving in Lothian March with such a force. "Enough to seize control of the March..."
"Or to lead the charge against the demons of the frontier," Thibert countered. "Iâll send Owain a letter expressing my âconcernsâ about the apparently dire circumstances that led to the death of his first wife. If it turns out that nothing is amis and we can rely on Owain to rule the march, then so be it. Learn what you can from him when the fighting starts and return after the summer campaign season ends."
"But if things are as I fear," Thibert added. "Then you may need to topple Owain Lothian from his throne and install a more suitable marquis... One who isnât as entangled with the Church and who can better serve our interests."
"Do you have someone in mind, Father?" Henri asked. "Should I select from among the Lothian barons?"
"I have a good impression of Valeri Leufroy, Telent Rundel, and Loghlan Dunn, each for different reasons," Thibert said. "But Iâll be relying on you to get to know the men who are there, and if none of them are suitable, we should consider looking to men like Count Hubert, whose loyalty to the crown is unblemished by commitments to the Ruling Council."
"Owain is moving swiftly," Thibert cautioned. "You must do the opposite. Iâll expect your reports regularly, starting from your arrival in DuLac," he said.
"As you command, your Majesty," Henri said, rising from his seat and bowing formally to his king rather than his father. "Is there anything else?"
"I know youâd do it either way, but take Inry DuCoumont with you," Thibert said. "He should know enough about the local lords in Keating to give you some advantage there, and it wonât hurt to have Jocelynn Blackwellâs cousin at your side when you approach her to learn what you can about Owainâs plans."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Henri said, pausing for a moment as he struggled with a question that he both wanted to ask but didnât dare to.
"Youâre welcome to recruit Micheline DuCoumont into your camp as well, if youâd like," Thibert said as he watched his son warring with himself. "Just be mindful of her place and donât make her any promises you canât keep."
"This is a test for her and Inry both," the king added pointedly. "Your interests may not align with their familyâs if they choose to stand with the Blackwells. Whether they support the crown or their own family will say a great deal about how much they can be relied on in the years to come..."
"I have every confidence that theyâll support me, your Majesty," Henri said stiffly. "I donât believe that Iâve judged them wrongly thus far," he said, bristling at the notion that either his squire or the kind senior whoâd helped him find his footing at the academy would turn out to be snakes that twisted around to strike at him.
"They may be loyal to you, Henri," Thibert said sadly. "But are they loyal to the crown you wear? The two are not the same, and kings have fallen for failing to understand the difference..."