“Honored siblings,” Yvonne greeted the room with her arms stretched wide in a mock embrace. “I am sure you are all wondering what caused you to be summoned here with great urgency. I do not wish to sound hysterical, but I have brought you to discuss the future of our clan; both present and future. It is important that only we of the Guerros clan are present for this discussion.”
“Then what of the boy?” A woman in a light green dress near Valentin protested to her sister and caused Valentin to slightly shrink from the scrutiny.
“Ignore him for now, he will be relevant later,” Yvonne dismissed.
Most of the siblings complied with their elder sister’s request but a few lingering eyes remained on Valentin in an attempt to figure out who he was.
The Matriarch continued, “I believe that the Guerros clan is approaching a crossroads. Our warrior origins earned the respect of Tiarna Bellafon and has brought us much prosperity over the cycles. However, it is no secret that we are not well liked by his son, Guillaume. Considering the decline in the Tiarna’s health, we must begin preparing for the likelihood that he passes soon and the possibility that we will not be appointed Marshal by the new Tiarna.”
The assembled clansmen descended into discordant discussion over the Matriarch’s claim before Yvonne raised her hand to reclaim control.
“Sister, I understand that the Tiarna and his son hold different views on the direction of Verbosc,” spoke up a man on the opposite side of the hall. “However, what makes you believe that he will remove us from our appointed position? Have we not served the city dutifully?”
“There have been numerous examples of the respectful disdain that we hold for each other,” Yvonne explained. “Threatening phrases that have only escalated since the Tiarna’s concerning countenance at Killicia. In truth, we all know that there is one major motivation for these tensions: the Thaud River Bridge.”
Yvonne allowed for her siblings to exchange murmurs before pressing on. “It is no secret that the coin we earn from travelers has been used to inflate our power in the region. Each of you possess businesses and villages nearby purchased through this wealth. Your interests are protected by the station of our clan and the warriors that serve under it. Guillaume Bellafon’s inner circle believes that we enjoy too much benefit from our position over the bridge and not enough loyalty to our liege. They claim that the income from that venture should go directly to the ruling clan.”
“Even if we are no longer the appointed Marshal,” began a woman nearer Valentin. “Our clan built the fortifications around it and therefore own the land on either side of the river. They cannot simply seize it from us.”
“Do you believe that who owns the land will matter if we are strong-armed out of it?” A different woman laughed at the naiveté shown by their sibling. “Do you not recall how our father came upon that land in the first place?”
“So we will be deposed just like that?” Another man asked. “Is there nothing we can do to prevent it?”
“Guillarme approached me at the last Killicia and implied that he wished to renegotiate the division of wealth from the bridge. It is possible we will retain our position and holdings, but will be gutted of most of the profit. That is not all we can do. Though highly risky, a new opportunity has recently arisen.”
“What is the return from that risk?”
“All of Verbosc,” Yvonne responded stoically.
At the utterance of the prize, another wave of sound escalated among the siblings. It was clear that to obtain one of the largest cities in the Martelle region, a monumental task would be asked in return.
“Very high risk then,” commented the woman that had laughed earlier. “I had heard that Ferron Martelle had paid you a visit earlier. Does this have anything to do with him?”
“It does,” Yvonne confirmed. “He has found a Storm Heir to enact his strategy to retake his ancestral capital. He has petitioned for our help in creating an identity for this individual and to answer the drums of war in exchange for our elevation to Tiarna of Verbosc.”
“Have you already verified this claim?” A sibling in a dark green cloak requested. “Ferron Martelle may be attempting to string us along with a proficient favored.”
“I did not have an opportunity to see for myself, however, it will not be difficult to obtain proof.” Yvonne beckoned the boy forward with her jeweled fingers. “Valentin, please step forth.”
Valentin felt a sudden change in the energy of the room at the mention of his name. The siblings regarded him with a variety of facial expressions that ranged from surprised to suspicious. It was an unexpected development that almost destroyed the boy’s confidence. However, Valentin mustered all his courage and walked with a confident gait before the arranged siblings. It was important to impress, to sell himself as the Storm Heir he was expected to be. He must show confidence in himself to earn the confidence of others.
“This is Valentin. If we agree to Ferron’s proposal, he will be a member of the Guerros clan and serve as Ferron’s ward,” Yvonne stated.
Valentin bowed before the siblings in greeting. “What would satisfy the doubts?” Valentin asked the Matriarch plainly, for he was not certain himself. “Do you have a Bloodstone?”
“We do not have one on hand. A trip to Verbosc Temple would be required,” Yvonne answered. “Well, siblings? What will satisfy your curiosity? Would you like to all make a pilgrimage to see the outcome for yourselves?”
“I suppose a demonstration of heightened favor would be sufficient for the sake of the conversation. Though I am disturbed. You don’t seem to hold the same caution the rest of us do, sister. Do you trust Ferron Martelle so deeply that you’ll follow anything that he says?” The man retorted to some soft snickering from a couple of the others. “I hope all those cycles obeying Ferron haven’t made you docile to the man.”
“Does proof have to be obtained at this exact moment?” Yvonne’s response was blocked by a different woman that had yet to participate. “Can we not reconvene after summoning a druid and discuss it after knowing for certain that it is true?”
The assembled siblings spoke in agreement to the woman’s suggestion. Yvonne relaxed into her seat while her clan counterattacked. The hulking man next to Yvonne clenched his jaw and glared at the man that insulted the Matriarch.
“I don’t see the reason to decide this evening,” agreed another. “Only a fool would feel compelled to rush such an existential decision. What motivates you to rush, sister?”
Before any others could contribute to the conversation, Yvonne held up her hand and silence fell upon the assembly. The command that the Matriarch held over the clan at her will made Valentin temporarily forget that her siblings were just deriding her.
“I have no intention of rushing you,” Yvonne argued. “However, it is foolish to assume that the Tiarna’s health will follow our schedule. He may live for many more cycles, or he may live for only a few more days. I wanted to convey the urgency of this topic. You must not dally on your deliberation so we may unify in our direction. Additionally, Valentin will only be here for a few more days before campaigning.”
Yvonne then pointed a chilled gaze at the man that had wielded the sharpest words against her. “I have all the proof that I need to consider this boy legitimate. Though, I understand that you do not know the people that I trust and it will be insufficient for now. In honesty, I can just decide what to do all on my own but I value you all too much to do so. I’d like to continue this conversation as though the boy has been verified.”
“We appreciate your consideration, sister,” the offending brother replied tersely.
The enforced will of Yvonne created a tense submission from many of the siblings. Her heavy-handed dismissal of the request for proof sat sourly on the faces of the assembled clansmen as they internally deliberated on their next move. Right in the middle of that ire, a boy tried to side step out of the crossfire of words lest he be struck with an errant verbal barb.
“Very well,” a man eventually spoke up. “Our options are either to have a guaranteed loss of power with a chance to maintain our holdings or to throw our support behind the rebel, Ferron, and potentially be eradicated under the promise of ruling the entire city.”
“That’s correct,” Yvonne confirmed.
“What are his chances of victory? Do you know the strength of his coalition?”
“I have not received any information of his allied armies as we are not yet a member. Our cooperation is sure to persuade some Tiarnas that are still undecided. There are still powerful players in the realm that have yet to show any allegiance. Tiarna Celfor and Tiarna Revelle being the chief two.”
“I say it’s too much of a risk,” said the naive sister. “While Ortus may fall on our warrior past, it may raise on a merchant’s future.”
Some others spoke up in agreement to their sister’s words. There was no reason to place their heads on the executioner’s block carelessly. There was no motivation to follow a man they never met to betray a realm that had yet wrong them. The only appealing aspect of this proposal was ambition and greed.
Valentin himself was quite surprised with how openly and candidly they discussed committing treason against their High Tiarna. It was handled in the same manner that Valentin’s mother would speak of grape crops or how someone would discuss the omens of the weather.
“I fear that our ancestors will scorn us if we abandon their traditions,” another countered. “It is Bellafon who insults us by threatening to revoke our status. If we balk here, then we will never be respected again. Besides, siblings, what clearer sign than this boy’s arrival could our ancestors have provided us to spur us into action?”
“I agree with Tomas,” the laughing woman added. “If we allow ourselves to be led by the nose, then our ancestors will surely beset misfortune upon us.”
Yvonne passively allowed the conversation to grow. With the available options restricted to submission or rebellion, the siblings began to split along those lines. However, the conversation was growing circular; the points covered were not radically changing. Any additional talking more were just minor pebbles tossed upon the large rocky foundations that the two sides already stood upon.
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The fact that the siblings chased their tails served to raise the hostilities between the two factions. Each rotation of the talking points only served to further cement the opinion of each sibling. The siblings that wished for peace held a small majority over the siblings that called for war.
“It’s clear that we will only waste time,” said a sibling who favored peace. “We will just have to send the boy back and focus on the terms of our agreement with the next Tiarna.”
Yvonne decided to rejoin the conversation. Her smile was formed in the same way as an older sibling that brewed up a nasty trick. “I must apologize, siblings. I misspoke earlier. No matter what you decide, Valentin will be our clansman.”
“What are you saying, sister?”
“I’m saying that Valentin is our clansman regardless of our deliberation. After all, he is our flesh and blood.”
“We have never seen this boy before,” Tomas replied incredulously. “Never attended the Naming, certainly. I think we all would have remembered his name called out by the druids. Is he some scorned child?”
Yvonne chuckled in a haughty way. She covered her mouth with a gloved hand but the sides of a wide smile peeked out of either side. If her aim was to be inflammatory, it had worked. It was strange to see such mature looking people act in such childish ways.
“Actually, this boy is our nephew. He is Roland’s son.”
Ever since Yvonne’s story earlier that day, Valentin had been quietly preparing for hostilities when his lineage would be eventually revealed. However, it seemed that shock was the prevailing reaction. He was gazed upon by looks of confusion as though Yvonne had announced he was some rare spirit.
Glints of anger started to twinkle in the eyes of some of the siblings. Not a seething, volatile anger. It was a deep, stable anger like burning coals.
“Roland’s child?” The cloaked man rose from his seat and got a closer look at Valentin. “He looks like Father,” he sneered.
“I said the same,” Yvonne agreed. “However, Valentin is a mild mannered boy that I have found myself quite fond of in a short time. He bears little resemblance to those that preceded him.”
“You said the same for Roland and Gilles when they were his age,” a different sibling dismissed. “I hope you’re not considering destroying this clan to atone for the mistakes of the past, sister.”
“I have no mistakes to atone for,” Yvonne remarked coolly. “Though you see that the question is different. Our clansman will be assisting Ferron in undermining the current regime of Corvello. No matter what we do, those actions will reflect upon us.”
Many of the siblings’ faces turned to quiet consternation. It was clear that the majority still did not have the stomach for all-out war but others were wavering in their ideas.
Yvonne pressed onwards before other opinions could materialize. She rose from her seat and stepped forwards towards her siblings. “Where is your confidence? We are forsaking our traditions so easily. Casting aside what it was that made us great that put us in the position that we enjoy. Do you truly believe defeat is assured if we throw our weight behind Ferron Martelle? Are we not the bastion that protects this region? Are we not the warriors that the clans rely upon to maintain order and power?”
“So you favor war, sister?”
The members of the peace faction had their wind taken out of their sails, their momentum severely damaged. Majority had no relevance if the one that decides all favored the minority opinion.
“I believe that it is the role of the children to grow the clan beyond the achievements of the parent. We have lived under the shadows of our father’s legacy since we were born. Without this opportunity, we were doomed to wither under the changing times.”
“You are willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of soaring higher?” A member of the peace faction slammed the bench and rose to meet eyes with the Matriarch. “There is no amnesty for traitors, sister. They will not spare the child for the folly of the parent.”
The naive sister joined in. “Sleibhin, Allaine, do you share the opinion of your wife?”
The large man spoke first, his visage still simmered with the earlier slight. “I have seen firsthand what it means to fight a war and I am resolved to fight another if it is called for. I trust that if Yvonne says that it is necessary, I am not being led astray.”
His answer did not seem to surprise any in the room and the siblings instead looked expectantly at the other man. His eyes fixated on something distant and ethereal as he was deep in thought. Valentin assumed that he was the more careful of the two men.
“Suffering is the everlasting friend of war. To engage in battle is to invite suffering upon all, witting or unwitting. It is folly to do so without proper reason and ability. However, it is an equivalent folly to believe that conceding here will be the end of our decline. To be forced out of our position without a fight will only expose a weakness that will be relentlessly attacked until we are but a shadow of what once was. All of you engaged in enterprise should know the lesson of choosing an easy mark all too well. Have you ever encroached on the territory of a clan whose strength you respected?”
Silence followed the man’s words. The risks of inaction were growing less and less palatable to the staunch opponents of conflict. The coalition had siblings jumping ship to the other faction and the balance of opinions quickly swung the other way.
“If we are bound to fight regardless, if Ferron is going to go to war regardless, then we should fight when we are at our strongest. We should fight for the side that intends to reward us for doing so,” Tomas said, to the approval of the other siblings.
“What has been said in support of rebellion has value,” the brother with a cloak conceded. “However, we have yet to verify the boy’s ability.”
“I will arrange a Bloodstone reading with Ferron,” Yvonne responded. “Any that hold reservations on his word may join. You don’t mind, do you, Valentin?”
“I don’t mind, the results won’t change anyways,” Valentin tried to say confidently. Some impressed looks from the arranged siblings seemed to confirm that he had done a decent job of it. A thin smile passed his lips.
“We will support Ferron’s rebellion unless his Storm Heir is proven to be a fake. Is that an acceptable course of action?”
No dissenting opinions were voiced. Any that may still have reservations in their heart no longer wished to step forwards. War was an inevitability when people coveted the same thing. It would not come today or tomorrow or even this cycle, but it would one day reach their homes. All one could do was make sure they were as prepared as possible for its arrival.
“I wish to give Valentin armor with proper Guerros heraldry for his upcoming campaign,” Yvonne changed subjects. “I was thinking that Collette’s armor with some adjustments would serve before he grows.”
The laughing sister’s face darkened at the mention of Collette. The siblings around her gave her uncertain, probing looks to determine her reaction to the idea.
“Why Collette’s?” The woman’s voice shook with the utterance of the name.
“It was gathering dust in Daga’s shop and it’s already the right size,” Yvonne reasoned gently. Her voice softened to a near whisper to deliver her thoughts. “Maybe she’ll look out for Valentin while he’s out there.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make!”
“It was, Ceres,” Yvonne answered more firmly. “You didn’t want it destroyed. I had to convince Daga to take it. You did not mind if some stranger made use of it but now that it can help our clan it is an issue?”
The woman’s fists were clenched in frustration. She opened her mouth to argue but only the awkward squawks of failed words left her lips. Tomas put his hand on her shoulder and the woman took shaking breaths to calm down.
“I wouldn’t have to see it if it went to someone else,” she whimpered.
“You will not have to see it,” Yvonne reassured, reaching out and embracing her sister. “I will be sending it with Ferron and Valentin will have outgrown it before he gets back. You won’t have to see it. I promise.”
The woman replied with something inaudible to Valentin who shied away further from the confrontation. His excitement over his gift from Yvonne dropped into the pit of his stomach and he debated whether or not he should even accept the armor.
“Now we need to figure out who will pretend to be their parent,” Yvonne spoke up, relentlessly moving the meeting forward.
“Can’t we just say he’s Roland’s kid,” complained a sibling.
“If that would work, Ferron would have never approached me about keeping an eye on him. We need to use the fact that many no longer remember our brother to our advantage. Brothers, wouldn’t you agree that it would make much sense for it to be one of you to have a hidden bastard?”
The men in the room went quiet and exchanged looks among them. None spoke up to volunteer besmirching themselves and their spouses for the sake of the clan. While having multiple partners was nothing out of the ordinary for many Strettians, adultery was still looked down upon by most people. Secretive partners indicated that there was something shameful to the relationship. No self-respecting individual would go along with it willingly.
Yvonne let the men stew over the implications for a moment. “What of you, Craine? You have many partners. What is one more?”
The cloaked man waved off his sister’s question. “The fact that I have so many would make it all the more suspicious to have one hidden. You wouldn’t have a secretive third husband, sister. It just wouldn’t make sense.”
“Gerrard?” Yvonne asked a heavyset man who had spoken first. “Your mother came from the South, you don’t look vastly different.”
The man solemnly shook his head. “You know that Ailsa had issues bearing children. Even if I tell her the truth, the rumor that I had a clandestine child will be too much for her to bear I fear.”
All the siblings nodded in agreement.
“Tomas,” Yvonne honed in on her next victim. “You have long-time business partners in Sarve that you often visit. Would it not be so strange to have had a woman of comfort?”
All eyes turned to Tomas who moved slightly away from the Matriarch. “Me? How ridiculous! I am in a happy marriage. I have immense pride in it.” He scratched at his face anxiously in consideration of the repercussions. “It’s impossible. Have Iehan be the father.”
“Now, that is impossible,” the man Valentin assumed to be Iehan responded. “I never preferred the company of women. Be good and accept the boy.”
The pressure on Tomas began to tighten. All were too happy to place the difficulty upon their brother.
“Are we not neglecting a crucial issue if we make Tomas the father?” Ceres had regained her composure. Her eyes were still slightly puffy from the tears that unintentionally sprung forth. “Camille is a gossip. If we send the boy to her house, the entire city will know of it by zenith tomorrow.”
Tomas looked hopefully at his potential savior. “That’s right. If you are looking for discretion, you will not find it within my household. Besides, can we not make him a bastard of Luc?”
“You wish to taint our brother’s memory with conspiracy?” Craine bristled at the suggestion. “Are you truly so desperate to avoid this responsibility?”
“Let’s not dismiss Tomas’ idea too quickly, Craine,” Gerrard interjected diplomatically. He rose from his seat to demand command of the conversation. “While his demise was tragic, we should not forget that he had sown his seed all over town with proclivity. What is one more illegitimate child with one more wench?”
The Matriarch smiled warmly though it felt coercing to Valentin. “I agree with Tomas and Gerrard,” she said, clapping her hands together and terminating the discussion. “I will pray for his blessing. Letters will be sent to let you know when I will be traveling to the temple. If there is nothing else to discuss, you all may return home.”
The siblings eagerly departed the estate upon Yvonne’s dismissal. They bid their sister a respectful farewell and disappeared into the near darkness. The creaking of the wheels of the carriages that brought them echoed into the slumbering city before it too joined the muted sounds of the outside.
Immediately upon the adjournment of the meeting, servants and lesser clansmen returned into the main hall to have some late night meals or drinks. The seriousness of the preceding meeting was now replaced with the mirth of those unburdened by the questions that hung heavy over the heads of the clan leaders.
Valentin sighed in relief. By his own expectations, things had gone better than he had feared. The large man that sat beside Valentin approached him. Even after stepping down from his raised seat, he still towered over the boy.
“Well handled, boy,” he complimented Valentin, clapping a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t have made it far if you looked like a blubbering fool.”
“I agree,” added Yvonne. “You didn’t work against me.”
“After what you told me, I braced myself for more anger,” Valentin admitted.
Yvonne chuckled, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth, “Anger towards you would have been misplaced. Even if Roland arranged for conflict within the clan, it was still my siblings who struck each other down.”
“Not to mention you rushed their thoughts so that they were not able to dwell on that fact,” the other husband complimented his wife. He touched his hand with hers.
“Though it would have been difficult to see you were Roland’s son without Yvonne telling me.” The man leaned forwards and looked closely at Valentin. “You lack that look in your eyes that Roland had. They were always so cold and piercing.”
“Well said, Allaine,” Sleibhin agreed. “I would have had trouble remaining calm if I believed we were inviting another Roland back into our homes.”
“I would have sent him packing with Ferron if I had detected that venom within him,” Yvonne stated. She offered Valentin a sly smile. “Welcome to the Guerros clan. Or perhaps, it would be more apt to say welcome home.”