New Lords Arising
Twenty-Fifth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
By midnight you have most of your geese, or perhaps one should say dragons, in a row as you gently blow upon the ink to dry it with spell-wrought wind so as not to smudge the fine calligraphy of your assistant. The tiny golden servitor still insists that what it does could not be considered drawing, much less art, but you heartily disagree with that assessment. Granted it may also be the warm glow of success from finalizing a task you had spent months pondering.
Tyrosh remains under the direct authority of the crown, effectively being folded into the Stepstones to help bolster royal, or rather imperial, power, while the Southern Disputed Lands and Golden Fields remain open, potentially for any tournament winners who might desire land, while the Northern Disputed lands will be taken from under Myrish stewardship to be administered by an appointed magistrate, which should hopefully keep the local nobility playing their power games within accepted rules rather than looking elsewhere. But it is the last of these counties that gives you the most joy in making it...
***
"Uthero, I have some news for you," you say by way of greeting once the hour grows late or early enough, depending on one's perspective, to allow for a visit to his manse in Sorcerer's Deep, a tasteful neo-Valyrian construction fitting in harmoniously with the rest of the city's skyline, unlike some of the suggestions the Bureau of Works already had to deny from Tyroshi and Myrish magisters.
"Did something happen? Is it the war...?" he asks, obviously meaning the war against Pentos. For all his laid-back manner Uthero is a loyal son of Braavos and would likely wish to be in the city at least when war was declared, perhaps even add his own commercial ships to the Braavosi invasion fleet.
"Nothing so grave," you assure him. "Remember that keep I promised you?"
A broad smile comes over his face. "Wonderful, I was rather looking forward to a change with things being so unsettled, and..." he hesitates a moment. "Maybe a place for Aly to get away from all the work of the Silver Eye, too. I know it's necessary, but it does wear on her, and anywhere in Braavos is just a messenger sprite away from the job. Where is this land?"
"The Disputed lands," you reply simply.
Uthero patiently waits for more, then the realization of what you had actually said comes over him. "
All of it?" He sounds rather daunted and little wonder.
"Only the westernmost parts, as a hereditary county, and the governorship over the rest. I know it is a great deal of responsibility, but an outsider will probably work best to keep the local potentates from thinking they can start up old feuds with paper and ink rather than swords and blood," you explain, fully willing to accept refusal for all it would tangle your plans.
"Thank you. I will do my best to keep the peace and bring prosperity to the lands." There is nothing of the jesting young blade in that voice, nor in the look that accompanies it. He will do quite well for both himself and finding able subordinates, you are sure, and the Inquisition will make sure he has a long life ahead of him to do it.
***
Lady Doreah Phassen greets the new order of things with a rather more sour look behind her polished smile, but you had been dropping enough hints as your plans coalesced that the loss of territory came as no surprise. The Archontic Council's place within wider administration is formalized, though you leave its internal ordering to them so long as it does not break any other law. It would hardly be the strangest arrangement in a realm with a dragon and an angel as rulers in the east.
***
Speaking of those otherworldly lords you also formally acknowledge the province of Mantarys, with Yrael as the Magistrate, while creating the province of Draconys, for now held by Yrael as the Magistrate, both under the governorship of Yrael alongside the Painted Mountains once they have been brought into the fold.
The newly-made governor is far less interested in formalities and spends most of the morning discussing the tenuous state of law and order alongside the Straight Road. When presented with the notion of granting lands to tournament winners to form the core of a warrior aristocracy he heartily approves, suggesting that you might wish to give particular precedence to mages in such cases for many of the lingering perils are of a more esoteric nature.
***
By contrast Relath takes his acknowledgement as Thaemos of Tolos as his due and the notion of annexing Elyria, Borash, and the Isle of Cedars to his governorship with a particularly draconic gleam of avarice in his eye. He does not even object to not being granted a wider hereditary position, likely because that would imply planning for a day when he will be dead. The newly-raised governor of Tolos obviously has no intention of doing something so
mundane as dying, though being a young wyrm yet neither is he overly concerned with how he will cheat the call of his twilight years.
***
From Tolos you head to Naath where you are fortunate enough to find both Salladhor Saan and Wylla with news of a successful expedition and a completed Scholarum. True, Saan does need to be sobered up and Wylla is not entirely happy to be pulled from her personal research, but both of them grow far more cheerful when you explain the purpose of your visit. Creating on one hand the Thaeme of Naath, with Wylla as its Thaemos, including a claim on the Isle of Lice, Basilisk Point, and the Western Jungles later on, when the islands have been stabilized and the realm possesses enough resources to claim the mainland.
Onto Salladhor you award the Archontia of the Basilisk Isles, containing all three provinces and the as of yet uncolonized Thaeme of Gogossos, though you include a firm suggestion that he settle his inheritance. He is hardly a man who lives a risk-free life and you do not imagine formal lordship will change him much.
"I'd need three weeks in that mirror house of yours just to find even
half the women I've lain with and the bastards I've sired." For once the boast does carry some measure of regret also, not enough to keep him from fathering more you would wager.
"Very well, then. Pick one, groom them to rule, and establish that as legal precedent," you reply. "It probably would not hold up long for an independent, but there you have the advantage. Anyone who feels like contesting your succession will have
me to deal with."
"Aye, great advantage that," Salladhor smiles, likely thinking of his good fortune in bending the knee when you first sailed into Deepcleft.
***
By noon you return to the core of your lands, to Lys where you find Hermetia sitting behind a great pile of parchments so tall as to obscure her face. "Dare I ask what those are?"
"A year's worth of judicial rulings," she replies wearily. "With all the tumult and vigorous backstabbing that went on in the city prior to the conquest I thought it wise to review all the major rulings in case the victims are unable to come forward to lodge a formal complaint. It's worthwhile, I already found a land transfer that might as well have the word blackmail inked in blood across it, but..."
"It's long and often thankless work," you finish. "Speaking of that, I offer yet more work should you choose to accept it..."
Jests aside Hermetia is more than happy to continue doing what she had already been tasked with, accepting the title of Vaeroseia over one of the minor islands in Lys' vicinity, as well as the Magistrate, with determination to help Lys transcend its dark and treacherous reputation. Unlike Uthero, you suspect Hermetia will not be spending much time in her lands, much preferring the administration of the city to rusticating in a distant manse.
What do you want to see next?
[] The final melee duel
[] Jousting
[] The play and proposal
OOC: There is unfortunately a lot of jumping around here, but I could not see a way around it.