In the council chamber at Lion's Den, flames danced in the fireplace. The air was heavy and silent.
At the center of the table lay the letter requesting aid from Deddings Castle.
Olivier looked around at everyone, cleared his throat, and broke the silence.
He looked at Suleiman and spoke evenly. "My lord, you previously sent Lushen with four hundred soldiers to Deddings Castle. Compared with the other vassals of House Deddings, that was already an act of extraordinary loyalty."
"Few, if any, of their other vassals would have been so generous."
He paused, watching Suleiman's expression.
"Now that House Deddings has suffered a crushing defeat, Lady Roslin has formally appealed to all her vassals for aid."
"We can simply reply that the High Mountains face the threat of raids by the Mountain Clans, and that our forces are stretched too thin to send any more reinforcements."
"And with four hundred soldiers guarding House Deddings' castle, no one can fault us."
As soon as Olivier finished speaking, Hubbard shifted his slightly plump body in his chair, which groaned beneath him.
Suleiman looked at him. Thanks to his success in establishing a lord's monopoly in five military towns, which had brought in monopolistic profits, the fat man now carried almost as much weight in the council chamber as he did physically.
Hubbard didn't look at Olivier. His small eyes went straight to Suleiman, and in his usual tone, as if weighing a business deal, he asked, "My lord, forgive my bluntness.
"What do you think your army would fare against the Ironborn, who make their living raiding at sea?"
Suleiman didn't answer at once. He leaned back in his chair, rested his long fingers lightly against his forehead, and closed his eyes.
A moment later, he opened them. His gaze was