Arthur Bracken approached the Tully commander, surveying the aftermath. Approximately five hundred Tully soldiers stood between the warring factions, preventing further clashes. Tully men carried corpses, while the wounded lay awaiting aid. Groups of knights and minor lords loyal to House Tully arrived intermittently, bolstering the presence.
The Tully-collected Blackwood arms and armor surpassed Bracken's, indicating the northern bank's relative affluence. Yet, excluding Arthur's exceptional feats, Bracken suffered nearly 400 casualties to inflict 300 on Blackwood. This outcome owed much to Andrew's initial tactic of forming a defensive circle, allowing each soldier to focus solely on the enemy ahead, mitigating rear attacks. Without this formation, Bracken's 500 would have been decimated.
Arthur, a formidable warrior, had charged early, his sledgehammer—captured from Ser Santagar—proving devastating against armored foes. He contemplated commissioning a heavier version for future battles.
Count Tytos Blackwood approached the Tully commander, flanked by a dozen guards, visibly wary of Arthur, whose hammer bore grim remnants of battle. A middle-aged man in fish-scale armor addressed Arthur with a sigh.
"Why haven't I heard of such prowess from Stone Hedge?" he remarked, introducing himself as Desmond Grell, Riverrun's master-at-arms.
Arthur nodded, "Arthur Bracken, Lord of Moulin Rouge."
Desmond smiled, "Visit Riverrun sometime; we should spar."
"I'd be honored," Arthur replied.
Edmure Tully, clad in similar armor, arrived, his expression stern. "My father forbade vassal conflicts. Why defy his edict?"
He turned to Arthur, seeking explanation.
Arthur recounted events: Brynden Blackwood's masquerade as a bandit, the assault on Riverside Village, Ser Santagar's fatal whipping of villagers, including a pregnant woman, and the subsequent denial of justice by Raventree Hall. He presented the bodies of Brynden, Roger, Santagar, and Darren's wife as evidence.
Despite interruptions from Blackwood men, Desmond and Edmure insisted Arthur speak uninterrupted.
"Regardless of Brynden's motives," Arthur concluded, "House Blackwood must face consequences. I seek restitution for my ravaged lands and justice for the slain."
Edmure looked to Tytos Blackwood for a response.
Before Tytos could speak, Roger Blackwood, bound and defiant, interjected, "Lies! We merely passed through our own lands. This brigand attacked us unprovoked. Ser Santagar acted nobly and was gravely injured."
Tytos Blackwood raised his voice, eyes fixed on Edmure: "I only know that my eldest son—the rightful heir of Raventree Hall—was kidnapped by a lesser noble of ill-repute. I implore the Lord Paramount of the Trident to deliver justice on House Blackwood's behalf."
Arthur Bracken's brows furrowed. "If your son hadn't taken fevered leave of his senses and ridden into my lands dressed like a common brigand to commit robbery, would he be in my custody at all? Let's be reasonable. Your men struck the first blow. They murdered three innocents—one of them a pregnant woman, tortured and left to rot."
Darren, huddled among Bracken soldiers during the earlier skirmish, had trembled with terror as steel clashed. By the gods, it was only luck and proximity to Lord Arthur that kept him from being wounded. Now, kneeling beside his wife's salted corpse, surrounded by knights clad in fine plate and mail, he dared not speak—until now.
Looking at the pale, familiar face of his wife, courage welled up. He raised his arms and cried to Edmure: "My lady wife… and our unborn child… they were beaten to death by that monster. My lord, I beg you—grant them justice."
He pointed a trembling hand at the bound Ser Santagar, blood still crusted on the knight's mail.
"I only meant to protect the young master," Santagar shot back, avoiding Arthur's gaze. "They wouldn't release him. What was I supposed to do?"
Edmure turned sharply to him. "So you struck first?"
"I acted for his safety, my lord."
The Lord of Riverrun's face was grim as he looked to the salted corpses. "Yet it is your house, Lord Blackwood, that bears the fault. To settle this, Lord Tytos: you will pay one hundred gold dragons to each of the grieving families. And to Lord Arthur—five hundred gold dragons for the unlawful trespass and deaths. In return, he will release your men, and both sides will count their losses settled."
"A hundred gold dragons?" Tytos scoffed, dignity forgotten. "They're commoners! One gold dragon each would be generosity enough."
Arthur's voice boomed across the field: "Santagar must die. You think three innocent lives are worth nothing? Five hundred dragons? Is your son's life worth only that?"
Tempers flared. Tytos raged, Arthur shouted back, and the bound Blackwood men began to jeer. Brynden Blackwood yelled hoarsely, demanding to be unbound.
The crowd surged, voices rising—until Ser Desmond Grell stepped forward.
"Enough," he roared. "All of you. Let Lord Edmure speak."
Silence fell, though unease lingered. Both sides glared, neither appeased.
Edmure took a breath. "Every life deserves respect. I stand with Lord Arthur—Ser Santagar's actions are inexcusable. He must pay with his life. Lord Tytos, you will increase your offer."
Brynden sneered. "Yes, father. Give this peasant-lord from the backwaters three thousand gold dragons if he wants them. At least we'll save face."
Tytos snarled, silencing him. "Fine! Give the greedy Bracken his blood price."
But then, cold and resolute, he added: "But Santagar will not die. He is sworn to House Blackwood. He acted to protect my son. What's a few dead peasants compared to that?"
Arthur's voice thundered again: "You dare call them insects? You dare measure noble blood against that of the smallfolk, as if their lives mean nothing?"
Darren wept beside the corpse. "My poor wife… and that child… we didn't even choose a name."
Sensing another storm brewing, Edmure raised a hand. "Dead men cannot return. But Santagar still lives. Lord Arthur, I ask that you spare him. In return, I'll double the payment—more for Darren, and more for you."
The Blackwood host bristled with indignation.
"Greedy Bracken, still begging for coin."
"They should be grateful for gold at all."
"That woman's life isn't worth one knight."
Arthur's blood boiled. He saw Edmure—like the Blackwoods—valuing coin over justice. That was a wound he could not abide.
Though gold was tempting, it meant nothing without justice. No weight of dragons could balance what had been done.
He turned to Darren, kneeling beside the corpse, and asked softly, "You've suffered most. What do you want—gold or justice?"
Darren looked up through tears. "My lord… all I ask is justice for my wife and our unborn child. That this man dies for what he did."
Arthur nodded slowly, then turned and gripped the sledgehammer at his side.
The weight of it steadied him.
"I swore to uphold justice for my people. If this knight walks free, if the lives of the poor can be bought with coin, then I will no longer call myself lord. I am Arthur Bracken, Lord of Moulin Rouge—and I will see justice done."
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