CHAPTER 215
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CHAPTER 215
295 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
An hour before the impending raid, the Northern lords convened for a war council around a massive oak table. The dimly lit chamber cast dancing shadows upon their faces, accentuating the gravity of their expressions. Lord Karstark, his tone laced with doubt, voiced his concerns.
"Are you certain, Lord Drasil?" he questioned. "I'm skeptical that a mere 200 knights and 300 archers will suffice to defend the port. If it was me in place of the Sistermen, I would attack the port with at least 2000-3000 men."
Aermir, exuding an aura of unwavering confidence, responded with conviction, "Do not fret, my lord. I do not intend to slight anyone with my words, but I must emphasize a crucial point. The Knights of Drasil and the Paladins are not your average knights. I assure you, each one of them is the equivalent of ten ordinary soldiers or five knights. And when I make this claim, I do not exaggerate."
Aermir's authoritative demeanor held weight, yet it wasn't sufficient to completely dispel the doubts harbored by the Northern lords. Although they had witnessed the unparalleled cohesion and discipline of his forces, the numbers still gave them pause. In their minds, the disparity between their knights and Aermir's was negligible. As for the Paladins, they perceived them as knights who had chosen to cloak themselves in different nomenclature. Aermir's penchant for assigning unique names to various units only deepened their perplexity; for instance, designating his 300 archers as "rangers" was a decision they couldn't quite fathom.
"If you still doubt my word," Aermir continued, his voice carrying a steely determination, "then let us put it to the test, my lords."
The mere suggestion roused a murmur of interest among the council members. They recognized the gauntlet that had been thrown down, a challenge that had the potential to affirm or debunk Lord Aermir's audacious claim.
He continued, his tone unwavering, "Let us step outside these walls, and you may select any random man among my knights. It can be anyone. This chosen knight of mine shall then face off against ten soldiers or five of your knights. If my champion prevails in this contest, you shall pledge to follow my commands without question until the end of this campaign. However, should my knight falter and lose, I shall extend a generous 20% discount on any of my goods that you all wish to purchase."
A murmur of intrigue and curiosity rippled through the council chamber as Aermir laid out his proposition. The lords exchanged glances, clearly considering the implications of this challenge. It was a wager that had the potential to sway the course of their campaign, and Lord Aermir's conviction piqued their interest.
Lord Karstark, ever the pragmatist, was the first to speak. "Very well, Lord Drasil," he agreed. "Your proposal is fair. We shall accept your challenge and put your claim to the test. It will be an opportunity to gauge the true strength of your knights."
The other lords nodded in agreement, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and curiosity. The prospect of a 20% discount on Lord Aermir's goods was enticing, but the outcome of this test would have far-reaching consequences. It was a gamble they were willing to take.
…
Lord Karstark couldn't easily accept the notion that one of Aermir's knights, selected at random, could best five of their own seasoned warriors. In his view, Aermir's rapid ascent to power had perhaps instilled in him an unwarranted arrogance.
While Lord Drasil undeniably possessed intelligence, martial prowess, and even the abilities of a warg, Karstark still regarded him as a relative youth in the grand scheme of things—a mere twenty-one name-days old youngling. Lord Karstark believed he was suffering from what most young men suffer: an overblown ego.
...
Lord Karstark didn't want to choose someone who looked really weak, or others might condone him behind his back, so he chose an average-looking guy, someone who was neither too short nor too tall. His choice fell upon Walton Wull, a knight who had originated from the rugged Mountain clans and had ascended to the esteemed rank of the Knights of Drasil. Walton possessed a sturdy, unassuming build, standing at a height of 1.75 meters (approximately 5.80 feet).
As Walton Wull stepped forward, his ordinary appearance contrasting with the anticipation in the air, Aermir swiftly approached him. With a firm handshake and warm congratulations, Aermir extended his appreciation to him for being chosen as the representative of his knights. Unbeknownst to the onlookers, subtle smiles briefly graced the faces of Aermir's knights and paladins as the chosen's skin darkened a shade unnoticeable to the others.
Meanwhile, Lord Karstark methodically selected the four best knights among his retinue to participate in the challenge. As he deliberated over his final choice, his gaze was drawn to a figure among the paladins, a distant nephew whose name momentarily eluded him. This young man, a lesser-known member of the family, had evidently departed from Karhold to seek his own path and reputation.
Lord Karstark's smile was sly as he declared, "I choose Karden Karstark." His words sent a wave of unease among the paladins who recognized the name, their expressions darkening with concern. Aermir quickly discerned Lord Karstark's intentions and stepped in, his tone firm and assertive.
"My lord, you cannot choose one of the paladins simply because he is your relative," Aermir admonished, his eyes narrowing.
Lord Karstark defended his choice, stating, "He is a person of Karhold, and I am the lord of Karhold. He is one of my men."
Aermir's patience wore thin, and he exploded with rage. "Paladin, who do you take orders from?"
Karden Karstark, despite his familial ties to Lord Karstark, didn't hesitate as he replied, "You, Lord Commander."
Aermir pressed further, "Are you a knight of Karstark?"
The paladin remained unwavering. "I am not, Lord Commander."
"Who are you?" Aermir demanded.
"I am a Paladin of the Old Gods! I only take orders from Lord Commander and Druid Emrys!"
Karden's blatant disregard for Lord Karstark's command left a bitter taste in the latter's mouth. Aermir, recognizing the need to emphasize the chain of command, intervened once more. He turned to Lord Karstark and issued a stern admonition.
"Don't attempt to be clever about this, my lord," Aermir cautioned. "The moment they take their oath, it matters not if he is your son. They become my men. Please, choose one of your own."
Lord Karstark, though clearly vexed by the situation, had little choice but to comply. He swiftly selected his final knight, and with a sense of anticipation, five formidable warriors encircled Walton Wull as the bout commenced.