Aldric suppressed a cold sneer as he listened to the old man's demands. A sword was at Quincy Cox's throat, his life balanced on a razor's edge, yet he was still tallying the copper stars in his purse. It was a testament to how the Lords of this world had survived for so long—their greed was often stronger than their fear.
Still, a landless knight without coin was a ghost. If the old lion of House Cox had nothing left, he would have no reason to play his part in the transition.
"Your personal effects, your family's silks, your horses, and your own suit of plate—those remain yours," Aldric said, his voice echoing in the salt-stained hall. "But the granaries and the gold in the castle treasury belong to the reconstruction. Ser Quincy, your people paid their tithes for protection. You failed them. Does your conscience not bite at you?"
Quincy's face flushed a deep, mottled red. He opened his mouth to bark a retort—"You—!"
"Careful," Aldric interrupted, raising a finger. His eyes turned sharp as glass. "Some words can only be spoken once in a lifetime, Ser. Choose yours as if they were your last."
The old knight shivered. The weight of the Sunwalkers standing behind Aldric—men in polished steel who didn't blink—finally crushed his remaining pride.
"Will you cast us out?" Quincy whispered, his voice trembling.
"No. You will live here. You will eat what I eat. So long as you cooperate, your house shall keep its dignity."
"I... I must speak with my kin," Quincy stammered, reaching for one last delay.
Aldric looked at Elder Perry of the Quiet Isle and sighed. "You see, Elder? I seek a peaceful path, but he treats my patience like a merchant's haggle."
Perry looked at Quincy with disappointment. The old knight slumped against the stone wall, realizing the game was over. "Swear it then," he croaked. "Swear by the gods."
Aldric stood, his voice rising to be heard by the soldiers in the courtyard. "I, Aldric Cerese, Lightbringer and Commander of the Dawn, swear by the Seven: So long as Ser Quincy Cox yields the gates of Shell Keep and the governance of Saltpans, I shall protect his blood. His family shall live in comfort, and their safety shall be my own. If I break this vow, let the Father's judgment strike me where I stand."
Elder Perry stepped forward. "The vow is witnessed. I, Elder of the Quiet Isle, stand as guarantor."
The portcullis rose. Under Kevin's command, the warriors of the Dawn marched into the keep with a rhythmic, disciplined thud of boots.
By nightfall, Aldric sat at the high table of Shell Keep, reviewing the ledgers brought by his steward, Greme.
"The stores are deep, Commander. Grain enough for two moons, and a cellar full of salt-pork and dried cod. It will sustain the refugees until the first trade ships arrive."
Aldric nodded. "The family?"
Martha stepped forward. "Ser Quincy's daughters are wed and gone. He has three grandsons here—the oldest but eleven, the youngest five. A dozen servants remain to mind them."
"And the Ser himself?"
"Waiting at the door, My Lord."
"Bring him."
Quincy Cox entered, looking smaller and more hunched than he had on the ramparts. He dropped to one knee, his breath hitching. "I am grateful for your... mercy, My Lord."
Aldric stood and personally helped the old man up. "I am no Lord, Ser Quincy. My men follow the Light, not a crown. Saltpans fell because you lacked the steel to hold it. My sons took it back because we had the heart to bleed for it. Tell me, why did you not open the gates for the Mummers if you were so afraid?"
"They were only thirty," Quincy whispered, his eyes darting. "But I didn't know if the Bloody Mummers had the Lannister host behind them. I could not risk my grandsons' lives on a gamble."
"The defense of the town is now the Dawn's burden," Aldric said, dismissing him.
"Excuses," Kevin muttered as the old man limped away. "My father told me that when the Northmen raided the Fingers, the local knights died at their gates to give the smallfolk time to flee. Quincy is just a man who loves his own skin."
Aldric watched the old man's retreating back. "Comfort is a slow poison, Kevin. It erodes the will. A man with nothing is a warrior; a man with a soft bed is a hostage to his own sheets."
The next afternoon, Aldric led his captains on a tour of the ruins. Most Westerosi towns were chaotic sprawls around a central fortress—if the keep fell, the town was lost. Aldric saw it differently.
"The castle is a kindergarten," Aldric said, pointing to the small, high-walled keep. "We will build a wall that encircles the entire town—the docks, the markets, and the dwellings of the poor. No more sheep for the slaughter."
"A city wall?" Ser Duncan Baker asked. "Like White Harbor or Gulltown? We lack the stone, Commander."
"We have the castle," Aldric said flatly. "Tear down the walls of Shell Keep. Use the stones to build the city's ring. The keep's defensive function is obsolete; the town's safety is the new priority."
A shocked silence followed. To tear down a noble seat was a heresy in Westeros.
"Where will the Coxes live?" someone asked.
"In a house, like everyone else," Aldric replied. "I promised them my standard of living. I sleep on a bed of straw and eat pottage. They will find it quite luxurious compared to a dungeon."
Aldric turned to Alis Waters, who had been watching the proceedings with a keen, merchant's eye. "What do you think of my plan, Alis?"
"It is visionary," she said smoothly. "But Saltpans is close to King's Landing. The capital has the King's peace, the guilds, and the gold. Why would a merchant sail here when they can sail there?"
"I don't need the King's gold," Aldric said. "I need the trade. I will offer lower taxes, safer docks, and a market where a merchant isn't squeezed by Gold Cloaks. If you build your trade house here, Alis, I will give you the prime lot in the new district. I'll even give you a warehouse for credit, paid in wool and grain."
Alis hesitated, her gaze drifting toward Martha, who was sharpening a dagger nearby.
"Any condition?" Aldric pressed. "Speak freely."
"I want her," Alis said, pointing at Martha.
"What?" Aldric blinked, completely caught off guard.
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