A Meeting with a Simple Baker in Attendance

"What, exactly, is the goal of this meeting? As in, what are we trying to achieve at the end of this gathering?" Everyone within the map room turned to Alistair. Most were surprised, some were plainly disgusted that he dared to speak, and fewer still were equally as curious as he was. Because, well, for all that they spoke of rebellion, there was very little talk of what would happen after the rebellion was hopefully won.

He honestly couldn't blame them for their disbelief because, well, here he stood, dressed strangely in his pants rather than leggings, and in a rather short shirt – by their standards at least – reaching only to his thighs when untucked. The only layer he thought they recognized were his shoes and his jerkin, and even then, he had of course styled his jerkin as more akin to a modern vest, even if it was made of leather.

Alistair had not arbitrarily chosen his style of dress, of course. He was confident that his charisma would at the very least allow him to wear it well, no matter what they thought, and he certainly could not be dressed as yet another merchant pretending to be a lord. That would only garner resentment from these men as they felt him attempting to encroach on their domain. It really came down to one fact; They certainly would not forget that he was nothing more than a baker-turned-warlord, and as such, it would only hinder him if he attempted to convince them otherwise.

So, he had to be different from their breeches, jerkins, surcoats, and – Well, he assumed they were wearing smallclothes – But of course, still respectable.

Alistair could practically see one of the assembled lords – each one of the four gathered was a powerful vassal of the House Baratheon, all with a thousand men each against his two hundred – strain against the leash of honour, knowing that it fell to Robert to handle my 'interruption'. Lord Musgood, if he remembered his gossip correctly.

"What do you mean, Albright? We're taking stock of how many Stormlanders are ready to get the title of dragon slayer" Robert said, his voice rising to a merry laugh as his lords joined in his tiny revel.

"Well, that much I understood when you inquired about the state of men. However, I was under the assumption that you had also meant for us to examine which houses may rebel as House Grafton of Gulltown did so recently?" Alistair suggested.

He knew it was bold, however, he also knew exactly what his invitation to this meeting was, even if he doubted that Robert knew what he had done. His invitation was clearly a singular occurrence, meant to reward his willingness to join the rebellion, but no more. Of course, he expected that Robert thought of it in far less conniving terms than he or a man like Tywin Lannister might. As such, he would lose nothing if his suggestions were laughable – He was already a commoner, being uneducated was the expectation to the nobility – and had much to gain should his intuition be correct. Perhaps even a permanent position on the war council, if luck was with him.

"Alright then, Albright, tell us what you know," Robert gave him an encouraging if uneasy smile, as though he wanted to give his new friend a chance, but also knew that his new fried was uneducated as a lord and – to his knowledge – slightly drunk.

"While I may be no more than a baker, it is such that in the centre of Westeros, even a baker acquires bit of knowledge on the political intricacies of the realm." The map on the table they gathered around was large and focused on the 'middle kingdoms', namely the Reach, the Stormlands, and the Crownlands, with the houses and their keeps marked upon it. "There are four houses I suspect to align with the crown, and I will now explain my reasoning."

"The first is of course House Connington, for reasons I dearly hope are obvious to all who are gathered. If not, then it would be due to the close friendship between Lord Jon Connington and Rhaegar." Dubious or mocking looks were shared around the room, some of the gathered lords looking at Alistair with pity at the embarrassment he was currently marching towards.

"But now? Now it is time to give my little thesis on how modern Westerosi allegiances are decided in cases where there is no clear path. You see, though I may be a mere peasant baker, I am literate, and I have read a few tomes on broad strokes of Westerosi history. And would you fine lords care to know what struck me as particularly interesting?" Alistair paused, leaning over the map slightly, drawing in his listeners in a quite literal sense, as they searched for what he was seeing.

"The utter lack of inter-kingdom wars present." He stood tall once more, and all heads turned to his movement. Funnily enough, it seemed that due to them leaning towards the map and his above average height, almost all of them were at this point looking up to him. All except Robert, as it seemed he had risen to his full height when he looked to Alistair.

Alistair smiled, both for the rhetorical value of the action and due to real excitement at finally partaking in something approaching academical debate for once. "Think of it for a moment. The last war between kingdoms was the successful - if brief - conquest of Dorne a decent hundred and twenty years ago. After that, it was just a slog of Blackfyre after Blackfyre, but no wars between the kingdoms. And, even before then, the last conflict amongst the kingdoms was the Dance of Dragons, a war where the Reach and the Stormlands were on the same side. In other words, there has been no full wars between these two kingdoms for nearly three hundred years."

"This would not be enough to sway them away from their liege lord in a normal war, of course. However, this is a rebellion, which means that no matter how just and right our reasoning is, it still gives every house in Westeros, great or small, a perfectly reasonable excuse to choose their side based one personal relationships."

Alistair smiled as he prepared for the fun part. Namely dealing with the hurt feelings sure to stem from his next proclamation "Relationships which happen to be built on commerce and long-lasting economic relations."

The lords were indeed not happy with his declaration. It was far too close to calling them money-grubbing mercenaries for their taste, and Lord Musgood, dressed in his house colours of dark blue and white accents, stepped forwards to speak their cause.

"Are you insinuating that the entire nobility will chase coins and coppers as soon as we have even the slightest excuse to do so?" He hissed through gritted teeth, his gaze was narrowed, and the rest of the nobility shuffled angrily as they muttered and glared.

Now would be a turning point, Alistair knew. If he was unable to convince the aristocrats that he was at the very least not insulting them, then he would be without options to further climb within society. The only issue was that he was no expert in the cultural values of Stormlander nobility. He could, if he made even the slightest error, hamstring his efforts to improve Westerosi society.

"Not even in the slightest, Lord Musgood." Alistair smiled an apologetic smile, as though unaware of how his words had sounded before he continued, gesturing ever so slightly faster to give the impression that he was desperate to clear up the misunderstanding.

"If you would allow me to speak my case for just a moment longer, then I would be delighted to explain. Because what is the goal of any honourable lord if not upholding the knight's oath within his lands? If a house along the borders of a kingdom had been trading with the Houses of another kingdom for generations, then the sheer economic collapse of battling those you have traded with for generations, joined families with even, would cause untold devastation to the women and children of their lands. The very same women and children that the knight's oath swears you to protect. If there is no clear side to join, then a house such as House Cafferen - whose holdings lie at the very spring of Blueburn, connecting them by river to the rest of the Reach - should not attack their allies and trading partners at even the slightest hint of war. If they were to do such a thing, they would not be true knights, as their actions would recklessly endanger the people whom they are sworn to justly rule." His reasoning had seemingly worked, given the acceptance of his arguments. It seemed that they were fine with any suggestion, so long as he were to frame it so that nobles were paragons of virtue simply following their duties as a knight.

"So, Albright, you think House Cafferen will rebel? You know, I can really see why that makes sense. But didn't you mention that you also thought two other houses would rebel?" Robert cut in, asking for further clarification and clearly signifying that for the moment Alistair's insult was forgiven, as he gave a smile of satisfaction.

Alistair nodded and returned his attention to the map, gesturing to another house at the beginning of a river, although this time, it was House Grandison, situated at the beginning of some river flowing from the north down into Shipbreaker Bay. Slightly further downstream there was House Gower. Alistair had spent large amounts of time during his stay at Storm's End looking into the exports of various houses, and who they marry with.

"House Gandison's probable descent is not due to trade obligations, but rather trade decay. If you look into their exports, taxes, and other such affairs you will see that they mainly export stone quarried from the Red Mountains. Now, this was, until around two hundred years ago, not an issue, and they sold their wares to merchants near House Swann of Stonehelm, who then did with that stone as they wished. However, in recent year - well, as recent as these affairs can be at least – House Gower also began exporting quarried stone, leading to a slow financial decline due to the better prices they can offer." Alistair drew forth the copied notes on the economics of house Gandison. There were no exact papers on these things, but every seventy or so years some Baratheon Lord called for a census of his vassals, and taxes were calculated in percentages, allowing for a rough estimate.

"This has only snowballed due to the cleverness of recent Gower lords who have expanded their quarries, and House Gandison now faces serious financial issues to the point that they are troubled during recent winters. It has even reached the point of them having to use personal house gold to import food, as seen by them buying more than they have sold for. I imagine that they will join in the rebellion in the hope of receiving enough funds from the crown to reverse their fortunes with new investments and avoid the collapse of their house" The gathered lords looked baffled at his use of marked analysis to predict rebellion, but also very intrigued by the idea. He was clearly gaining support for his argument now.

"Lastly, I also suspect that House Bolling will rebel, although this is to be clear, a far more unlikely scenario. They do trade mostly in mined iron to Dorne and the Reach, seeing as House morrigen supplies most of the Stormlands. If my guess is correct, then you will only need to defeat Houses Gandison and Cafferen, and then the Stormlands will be secured." The respect was clear in the eyes of the gathered lords as they looked at Alistair with new eyes. If he had to guess himself, then he would hazzard saying that he had successfully showed himself insightful enough to earn a place on all future war councils.

"Very impressive, Albright. But, a question remains: What in the seven hells do you think the rebel lords will do now?" Robert asked, his eyebrows raised in surprised admiration. He had clearly thought Alistair to be nothing more than a charismatic man out for war and glory, and a friend whom he could feast with.

Silence reigned as Alistair looked over the gathered lords. He looked each deep into their eyes, emploring them to listen with his gaze as his mouth drew into a thin line of stalwart determination.

"I," He started to say, his voice deep and slow, pausing to draw them in. Then, I righted himself standing to his full height, taller than most of those gathered if shorter than Robert, and shrugged before speaking in a carefree cheery tone. "Have no idea."

There was a beat of silence.

"What? I'm just a baker, you're the ones raised into this role of commanding those around you in war. Why don't you figure it out?"

Another moment where only silence was alive within the room. Then, Robert roared with a laugh so boisterous and alive that all who heard it joined. Except Stannis.

"You lost the right to use that as your excuse when you revolutionized sums, or mathematics as you call it. Never mind when you disassembled our history to predict who would rebel against us." Robert walked to Alistair and patted him on the shoulder with a grin, "But fine. I suppose I ihould contribute something to this whole rebellion thing. It is after all named after me."

"Now, if they want to avoid being seen by half a hundred farmers and their cows before they gather their forces, then there is only one well-known but abandoned place they can go to. Men, we're going to head to Summerhall in three days. Prepare your men, for it will be a hard march to get there and set up our fortifications in time. Stannis, send a raven to House Rigfast, they're only a couple hours from Summerhall with a good rider, and they better have a good rider prepared in case you get any news we need to know of while we're gone." Robert pointed first to Summerhall, located almost directly east of the Ashford, then to a minor house so small that it was not marked on the admittedly few maps of the Stormlands that Alistair had seen.

"Gather your men and form a vanguard with me. We'll ride ahead and confront our enemies in the field one by one, before they gather their strength. They'll be coming from the north, the south, and then at last the east. Now go, prepare your men and supplies, we have dragons to slay." Robert ordered, standing tall as any general of the age of heroes, charismatic, likeable, and confident. Alistair finally and clearly understood why Robert had been chosen as king in the books.