Chapter 503: Too Many Sides (Part Two)
"Loman’s faction is still very under-developed," Marcel said, his voice snapping Isabell out of her inwardly spiralling thoughts.
"The Church seems to be behind him, though the fact that an Inquisitor spent months digging around after Lady Ashlynn’s ’death’ and never took action against Owain suggests the Church isn’t fully comitted to either brother. Other than that," he added, tapping on Lothian City. "Loman’s greatest popularity is with the common people close to home where he’s been building support for years as a priest of the Church."
"So you want us to press for lands to the east of Lothian March," Isabell said, looking at the eastern barronies they’d passed through on their way to the city from Blackwell County. "To stop them from building their factions there."
"No, that wouldn’t do you any good," Marcel said. "The old men hanging onto their barronies far from the active front lines value tradition. They’re in Bors Lothian’s camp, and even the young ones who have taken succeeded their fathers in the past few years still look to the Marquis for direction. They’ll side with whomever Bors picks."
"So we’re caught between two brothers, the father, and the Church," Tiernan said, frowning at the map. "But if we’re not pushing for lands in the east, where do you want us to go?"
"Here," Marcel said, tapping the unclaimed region along the banks of the river Luath where only a few sparse hamletts dotted the lands closest to the ancient roadway leading into the Vale of Mists. "You wanted somewhere peaceful to rest, this region will give it to you."
"That’s madness!" Tiernan sputtered, nearly spitting out his wine. "I haven’t been here long, but I’ve heard stories about the Demon Lady of the Vale already. They say she skins men alive, bathing in their blood and devouring their flesh. Nothing that is built too close to the Vale is ever safe. These people living so close," he said, tapping on the scattered hamlets on the map. "They’re gambling with their lives. What could be here that would be worth taking the risk?"
"Nothing," Marcel said with a slow smile at the way the locals had described Lady Nyrielle. Who would bathe in blood? It was such a waste, like bathing in wine, yet the myth persisted for decades without anyone ever questioning it. "There’s nothing of value here right now, but it does three important things."
"First," Marcel said, raising a slender finger. "It pulls you away from the Hanrahans and second, it puts you closer to the Dunns. This should be enough for Liam Dunn to wonder if he can pull you into his camp, and if he doesn’t, Loman should. Placing the two of you, and by extension, the agreement with the guilds of Blackwell City, in a place where your support must be contested for will keep both sides busy."