David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 245
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 14:56:44 +0000 UTCChapter 245: On the Banks of the River Aspen
“This is how things are done,” Matthew argued. It was the first time that Liv could remember him raising his voice with her,ever. The part of her mind that was still thinking about consequences or public perception confirmed that it had been a good idea for them to have this talk privately. She’d brought them up to the top of the rock face where Wren had, apparently, killed Baron Galleron Erskine. Now that Liv’s storm of two days before had passed, the spring sun was warm on her skin.
“Combatants of rank give their parole, and pledge not to escape. In return, we treat them with the courtesy due their rank, and permit their families to ransom them back,” Matthew continued. “You know all of this. I know mother taught you. Now that the battle’s done, they’re bargaining chips. You held the pass, now it's time to negotiate.”
“First of all,” Liv shot back, “that may be how things are done in Lucania, but this wasn’t just about Lucania. The Eld should have been consulted. They’re just as much a part of this alliance as Valegard is, or the Grenfells. Please tell me you can see that, at least.”
Matthew looked away from her, up to the blue sky, and huffed. He rested his remaining hand on one hip, and finally met her eyes again. “Alright. I see what you’re saying. I’ll admit that was a mistake on my part. I’ll apologize to them, and make certain to listen to their concerns.”
“Good. Thank you.” The next part, Liv was certain, her adopted brother would not agree with quite so readily. “The next thing is this. It isn’t fair - it isn’t justice.”
“Because they attacked us?” Matthew stepped closer and reached out for her shoulder. “Liv, I’m just as upset about what they did to my parents as you are. But if mother and father taught me anything, it's that your personal feelings can’t be allowed to shape your political decisions. It doesn’t come naturally to me either - Trinity, you know what I want to do? I want to march every soldier we have to Bald Peak, and be the first through to the waystone at Freeport. I want to burn that stupid palace down around their ears and not stop until every Sherard and Loredan in the kingdom is dead. But what I want to do, and what I can do, are two different things.”
“You didn’t have to watch them die in front of you,” Liv said. “You didn’t have to hear her screaming while she held your father’s head in her arms.” Her face twisted out of her control, and she wiped an arm across her eyes to get rid of the tears.
Matthew folded her into his chest, with his remaining arm around her shoulders. “Alright. I agree that I should have consulted the Eld, and I will from now on. Will you agree we’re better off ending the war here, than pushing south?”
“That’s not what I want to do.” Liv shook her head, and pushed him away. “Ractia’s the real threat. Whatever peace we can make with Lucania, we need to do it so that we can focus on Varuna. But that doesn’t mean letting the men who led an army against us leave.”
Liv stepped back, so that she could look up into Matthew’s eyes. “Two hundred people died fleeing Ashford. I don’t even know how many soldiers gave their lives so that anyone at all could get out. They burned farms and slaughtered families up and down the valley. They executed Isaac Grenfell in front of the entire court - he didn’t get parole or ransom, did he? You heard the count here. We lost nearly six hundred here.”
“Even on their side,” Liv continued, stepping to the edge of the drop and pointing down to the crown healing tents. “Over a thousand dead, most of them farmers who were just doing what their lords told them to. Why should so many people suffer, while the ones who led them to battle drink our wine, pay a bit of gold, and then go home to their families? What about all the sons and fathers and husbands who will never go home? Do they really deserve so much less, just because they were born the son of a forester, or a smith, or a cook?”
“I understand you don’t like it,” Matthew said. “But that is the way the world works.”
“But it isn’t!” Liv cried out. “I’ve been to the north, to Varuna and to Lend ka Dakruim. I’ve looked down upon our world from the ring above, and Lucania’s only a small part of it, Matthew. The privilege of barons is not some universal rule of existence. It exists only because people chose to allow it to exist.”
Matthew frowned, and turned away from her. “Are you regretting saying no?” he asked her. “Because you can’t have it both ways, Liv. If I’m to be the Duke of Whitehill, then at the end of the day, it’s my decision. And I need your support, not your argument.”
“You need someone to tell you the truth,” Liv insisted. “And the truth is, those people want us dead. I was there at the parley before the walls. Do you know what they said to me - all those noblemen you're hosting at the Sign of the Terrapin?”
Matthew shook his head, but Liv continued without giving him a chance to protest.
"Bennet Howe opened negotiations by offering to only cut your mother and father's heads off, rather than having them drawn and quartered. Your father and law as well, by the way. I didn't even get that promise - just a pledge that he'd put in a good word for me, but it would be up to Benedict whether I burned or just got myself shortened by a head. Baron Fane called me a 'knife-eared whore,' right to my face. Do you know what Howe said when I begged him to stop and think? When I told him thousands of people were going to die? Do you?"
Matthew couldn’t meet her eyes. "No. I wasn't there."
"He said he'd slaughter every person in the entire valley, burn it all, and salt the earth before he let us be free of them. That's the man you want to send back? Can’t you see Matthew, he’s just going to raise another army. Maybe this year, maybe next, but he’ll be back. If you really want to protect our people, you’ll end this while you have the chance.”
When the words had finished tumbling out of her, Liv felt deflated, like a pumpkin pie that had puffed up while baking, and then cracked as it cooled.
“We’re not going to agree on this,” Matthew admitted. “And it’s not because I don’t see your point, Liv. But if we want them to recognize Whitehill as an independent duchy, we’re going to have to give them something in return. And what we’ve got to give is a prince, a duke, and a few barons. Those are our bargaining chips. And I’ve made my decision.”
☙
When Liv had brought them both back down on a platform of mana, and gathered the Eld - not just the Elden commanders, she realized, but her people - it felt all too much like a conspiracy.
They’d walked north, past the horse lines and the sparse sentries who watched them, and found a place along the side of the road near the banks of the Aspen River, where a tumble of boulders provided ample room to sit. Liv’s great-uncle Eilis had come, along with her cousin Miina. Sohvis was there in place of Keri, while Kaija remained a shadow at Liv’s shoulder. Representing the troops from Al’Fenthia was a woman named Soile, a commander with the sides of her head shaved and the remainder of her hair pulled back in dark braids.
And then, of course, Arjun and Vivek Sharma to represent the Dakruiman healers, Wren, Sidonie and Rosamund. If Ghveris hadn’t been watching over Keri, up on the ring, Liv had no doubt he would have been there, as well.
“They deliberately targeted the duchess and her husband,” Kaija exclaimed, once Liv had finished relating her conversation with Matthew. “There was nothing honorable about that. They did everything they could to lure anyone who could protect them away, and had an assassin waiting on top of the cliffs. They came here to kill your family, and he’s just going to let them go?”
“Matthew is correct that this is Lucanian custom,” Sidonie explained. “And this is likely what Duchess Julianne would have done, if she had survived.” Rose nodded in agreement.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving my enemies to come at me another day,” Soile grumbled. “Especially not when we’re going to be leaving our backs to them, when we turn to Varuna. We can’t afford a war on two fronts. That was the entire point of coming down here, to settle this first so that we could turn on the greater threat.”
“Liv,” Vivek Sharma said, from where he leaned against one of the boulders. “Do you recall what I told you when we spoke at Akela Kila?”
“In the garden?” Liv cast her mind back. “You said that ‘tradition is a pillar that supports those in power.’ And that the power structures which had lasted until now, wouldn’t be enough to face Ractia.”
The old priest nodded. “I did not come here simply to watch over our healers while they tend the sick, Livara. I came here to see whether you were ready to build something new.”
“We have,” Liv said, waving her arm to indicate the encamped troops just south of them. “An alliance.”
“An alliance needs a leader,” her great-uncle Eilis said. “Who is leading this alliance, Livara?”
Liv opened her mouth to say that her father was, but that wasn’t right. He was leading the Elden troops in Varuna, certainly, but he was focused on Ractia, not Lucania. And in any event, he was leading the Eld to war because the elders permitted him to, and supported him. That meant they were in charge - but again, not in Whitehill.
Here, it had been Julianne, without a doubt, to lead not only the Aspen River Valley, but also Valegard, and Gold Creek. The refugees from Ashford had quickly fallen under her command, and even the Corbett soldiers that Sidonie’s father had brought. She’d negotiated with Lia Every over the charter of a new mage’s guild - but again, Julianne hadn’t any power or influence in Elden lands. The only person who both sides looked to as a leader was -
“It’s you, little cousin,” Miira said. “We wouldn’t have come here for anyone but you. You know that, don’t you?”
“My people would not have come if not for what you did at the Well of Bones,” Arjun pointed out. “Pandit Sharma and myself, yes. But not the rest of the healers.”
“What do you want her to be, then?” Rosamund demanded. “Your Lord Commander, like Bennet was for the crown?”
“This is the convergence,” Eilis ka Väinis stated, with a quiet confidence that frightened Liv. “I came to see you to this point, Livara. Could it have been someone else? Perhaps. A half-blood from Al’Fenthia, in another world? But it is not. You are the one who is right here, and right now, with the blood of both human and Eld. You’ve trained with the human archmages, and the elders of the north. You are the only one that both of our peoples would even consider following in the war to come. I set young Inkeris on the path you needed him to walk, and he did his part in bringing your friend Wren to where she needed to be, to reveal our enemies in Lucania. You have every tool that you need. The only question now is what you will do.”
“I told Matthew no,” Liv said. “He asked me if I wanted to be duchess of Whitehill, and I told him no. And even if I was, that doesn’t mean anything in Elden lands.”
“Your brother is still doing things the Lucanian way,” Sidonie pointed out. “But this isn’t a Lucanian alliance, Liv. At least, not entirely. Weren’t you just telling him that?”
Liv turned away from the people who had gathered about her, and walked down to the stones and the mud at the edge of the river. It was running high, and fast, with the snowmelt from the mountains. She knelt down and dunked her head into the water. The Aspen was only the thickness of a hair above freezing temperature, but it didn’t bother Liv. In the back of her mind, Cel stretched like a satisfied cat.
She could see two paths ahead of her, with her eyes shut tight and her breath held under the water. On the one hand, she gave up all control over Whitehill to Matthew, and watched him send the crown leaders back to Freeport. She left the north and went to Varuna, to help her father fight against Ractia. Her friends would fight with her, but they’d all do it under her father’s command.
Liv tried to imagine that resulting in anything but another battle at the pass. She tried, and she couldn’t. Whatever troops Matthew sent to Varuna to hold faith with his Elden allies - and she truly believed that he would try - would end up having to return home to defend Whitehill from a new attack. And Liv would have to choose between leaving her father to fight Ractia, or leaving Matthew to fight Benedict.
In that future, Liv would be giving up the right to make a choice over what happened. She would be placing trust in her father, and in Matthew, and in the elders, to make the decisions. Even in Lia Every, to run the mage’s guild in exile. And she did trust them, to do the best that they could.
The question was whether she thought that she could do better.
Liv flung her head back up out of the river, spraying water in every direction. She sucked in a deep breath of mountain air and got to her feet. She turned back to the people who were waiting for her decision, and saw that everyone had been watching her.
“I need to talk to my brother,” she said.
☙
Wren led Matthew to the riverbank, and he came with Baron Corbett, Baron Crosbie, Baron Every, and Bryn Grenfell. For a moment, Liv wondered where Triss was; but then, she knew. Triss would be sick, miserable, and desperately trying not to lose her baby, even though there was really nothing she could do one way or the other. She needed to be up in the ring, not down here.
Matthew glanced between the assembled group, and Liv. His eyes lingered on the silver crown she’d taken from the Tomb of Celris, which she now turned over and over in her hands. It was the only sign of her fear that she would allow to show.
“I wanted to apologize to our allies from the north,” Matthew said, breaking the silence. “I should have consulted you before accepting parole from the prisoners. It was inconsiderate of me, and disrespectful toward our allies.”
“Thank you, Matthew,” Liv said. “But that isn’t why I asked Wren to fetch you. When you talked to me yesterday, you told me that you didn’t want to be the sword and shield of the north, all by yourself. And that you didn’t want it for your children. Do you still feel that way?”
He looked down at his boots for a moment before meeting his eyes. “My feelings haven’t changed. But I understand your decision, and your right to make it, Liv. And I’ll respect it.”
“I won’t be Duchess of Whitehill,” Liv said. “But if you will have me, I will be your sword and shield.” Very carefully and precisely, she set the crown of Celris on her brow. At a wave of her hand, ice crackled into a throne by the bank of the river, just like the one she’d just raised outside Al’Fenthia to make a point. Deliberately, Liv sat down on the throne.
She looked from one face to the next, surveying the Eld and humans alike. “From the beginning, our mother was trying to make Whitehill independent. But Julianne Summerset made a mistake,” Liv explained. “Two, really. For the first, the Aspen Valley is too small to ever stand equal to Lucania alone. And for the second, by only claiming the title of duchess, she set us up to always be a step below Lucania. But our mother wasn’t the daughter of a duke, Matthew. She was the daughter of a king.”
Liv raised her right hand and extended it before her, palm down, fingers outstretched but gently curled. For a long moment, no one moved, and she thought that she’d made a mistake. Rose looked positively panicked, her eyes wide and her face gone pale.
It was her great uncle Eilis who moved first, of course. What else had he come south for, if not this? He knelt before her, took his hand in his own, and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
“Lady of Winter,” Eilis said, and then rose, and stepped aside.
Miina followed him, Liv’s cousin kneeling before her, kissing her hand, and repeating the words. Liv felt something die, in that moment, and perhaps it was the word of time speaking. Whatever chance she’d had of an equal relationship with this cousin she’d only just found had passed.
Kaija was next. The woman who’d first protected Liv by making her armor, and then by guarding her back through the entire battle at the pass. “Lady of Winter.”
Sohvis exchanged a glance with Soile, and it was the commander from Al’Fenthia who spoke first. “We need to take word of this back to the elders,” she said. “This isn’t a decision either of us can make by ourselves.”
Liv turned from them to Matthew, and simply waited.
“You’re certain?” her brother asked, and Liv nodded.
Matthew Summerset stepped forward, knelt, took Liv’s right hand in his only hand, and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Lady of Winter,” he said. “Queen of the Mountains.”
Comments
SleepyKitten
Awesome chapter<3 it's no doubt the first step to truly fighting Ractia. Lady of winter vs Lady of Blood. Final showdown is pretty much set.
Catherine
"Your father and law as well, by the way." Is that meant to be 'father in law'? "He looked down at his boots for a moment before meeting his eyes." 'Her eyes'?
