Chapter 16.2

Eirwen looked at the crowd, intimidated but still full of grudges towards her. No matter. She had prepared for this. Her first step was drawing her sword, the ceremonial ancestral blade, planting it in front of her and resting her hands on its pommel. Some could see her properly, not many. That too she had prepared for.

She closed her eyes for a few counts, an act that left an opening which she only dared to leave due to having so many protectors at hand. Behind her, she built the power up slowly. A figure came into existence, slowly appearing from her toes up to her hair. A manifestation of Eirwen as she was right now, just five times her size. And with all the details visible. Shocked sounds came from the crowd as they finally properly got to see her attire.

A slight tweak to the manifestation, a small difference, making the figure look down at the crowd while Eirwen herself faced forward. She looked through the figure's eyes, seeing them fall silent as they took her in. It wasn't the ancestral blade that drew their attention, nor was it the white surcoat, decorated only by a large depiction of the Verglas coat of arms. No, it was what rested on that coat of arms, a white silver heart pendant, no longer hidden underneath her clothing. She recognised the look many shared. Shame, over judging her. None of them managed to still voice a protest as they witnessed her public declaration of how much even now their Marquis had meant to her. 

Projecting her voice from the figure's mouth, while certain to draw attention, would be too draining. Instead, she used what many nobles considered but a mere cantrip, an amplification method that made sure her voice would be audible by all, without being overbearing for those near her. Perfect on the battlefield, even more suited for covering the entire plaza. Her false eyes slowly swept over the crowd as her real mouth addressed them.

"I have called you all here to witness my judging of the Flameheart council. Not despite it being the last day of mourning, but because of it. So that when tomorrow arrives, it is a day of new beginnings. Today, we leave the past behind. Tomorrow, the war will truly be over." She scanned the crowd, noting that she could not see a single person without white clothing or a mourning band. Most bands looked very similar, likely the work of Ailbe collaborating with the town council. She was glad he had provided them with the means to express their grief and respect. It likely played a part in how they kept their silence, at least for now.

"One noble fully taking over another's territory is far from a frequent act in our kingdom's history. A dukedom falling to another is unprecedented. But we do have examples of how this would work. Normally, part of the leadership is replaced with one's own, while those that remain are temporarily demoted, needing to prove their loyalty and ability. For the first part, let me be clear. I have no intent of having my own take control over your territories. All replacements will come from within. For the leaderless territories, new leaders have already been selected. Some only temporarily, their own wish to simply help in preparing proper new leaders. Others eager to prove themselves."

"That brings us to the second part, judging those that remain. But before I address the council, there are others I must address. Sir Darragh Seabhac, former leader of the Marquis's personal guard. Step forward on behalf of your group." He had seen it coming, of course, showing no hesitation as he separated from the others and walked past the Verglas knights. While he moved, Eirwen sent out a quiet message, not to him but to her weapon master. One very simple instruction.

Follow in my footsteps.

A single thought came back, carrying his interpretation of her command. Perfectly understood. Sir Seabhac wordlessly kneeled far away towards her. And behind him slowly appeared a giant manifestation of the knight, five times his size. So subtle was the act, even her own senses felt as if she was the one behind it. Judging from the looks on the Flameheart nobles, they too believed Eirwen was doing this effortlessly, not realising the presence of her secret collaborator. Pretending to ignore them, she waited a single breath before addressing the man.

"Sir Seabhac. You served your master well, both before and during the war. Your presence made it foolish for anyone to come after him, while also helping keep the fatalities to a minimum whenever people still tried. An act that earned you both his and my respect. When he came to negotiate with me, the first term he posed to me was your lives. And while I may remember the names of everyone you fell in combat, you did so without unwarranted cruelty. As such, as I vowed to him, you will have your freedom. You have requested permission to aid in rebuilding the Bán and Dorcha territories. I grant you that. Rise."

Seabhac rose with a bow, then returned to the rest of the guards while his image dissipated. Once he had taken his place, Eirwen addressed the crowd once more. "The other terms of our deal were leniency for the troops, and respectful treatment of the people. There was no formal agreement to the treatment of the Flameheart nobles, just the request to treat them fairly. Six nobles of the council have left in self-imposed exile. I will now judge the other five. Comtesse Muire Conaire and Vicomte Fiachra Conaire, step forward."

Mother and son stepped forward and kneeled, a dual image of the two appearing behind them for the crowd to see. "Comtesse Conaire, while your domain laid far away from the primary front, your troops still put immense pressure on my own. Only your distance from where the Marquis normally fought, allowed us to hold the line. Both you and your heir fought honourably. For your support of the sixth Duke, I am removing you as Comtesse. You will advise the territories near you, helping them rebuild as new leaders fill the gaps of those that left. Fiachra, you will serve as Vicomte Conaire, until you have proven yourself worthy of the title of Comte."

After their silent acceptance, she called for the next. "Vicomte Mathe Buidheach, you and your heir Dalziel acted with unwarranted cruelty time and time again. There were those who retaliated, and to a man I punished them for it. For you who still continued despite our warnings, since I was asked to act with fairness, I will not have you executed. However, both of you will be exiled. You have one week to prepare, without taking what you hold no right to. After that, if you ever return to my domain, death will be all that awaits. Mathe, your brother-in-law will take your place and act as Baron for now. As for your wife and other children, they can choose whether to join you or stay with family, but they will hold no title."

If they desired to object, they sure managed to keep it in. Quite frankly, they should have seen this coming. It was likely sheer arrogance that they had chosen to stay and face public humiliation. With thunderous faces, the two stepped back in line, replaced with Ailbe and Aoife.

"Vicomte Ailbe Carraig, the rock that stopped us from reaching this place during the war. And Baroness Aoife Carraig, the right hand of the Marquis. You made it so that wherever he went, our troops would face immense pressure on multiple sides, rather than just his. I despise both of you for the role you played against me. Ailbe, I am removing you from your position. You will stay in Leathad Den Ghrian, training a new generation of knights from this territory to serve me personally. Aoife, you have proven your skills time and time again in combat. You will serve as Vicomtesse for now, though there is no doubt in my mind that you will earn the title of Comtesse soon. I hope you will aid me well."

The complicated look on Aoife's face would normally have been hidden well, on account of kneeling. Unfortunately for her, the large image of her allowed the crowd to see well how various emotions danced through her facial expressions. Eirwen ignored them and waited for the two to step back, before calling forth the next nobles. "Comtesse Dearbhail Ó Doirinne. You are a failure as a parent. Vicomtesse Gráinne Ó Doirinne. The sight of you eagerly cutting a captive's tendons, then delaying their medical care to the point of endangering their life, is not one I will ever forget. Dubheasa Ó Doirinne, you will serve as the new Vicomtesse. Take proper care of your mother and sister, but never allow either of them to influence your rule."

Dubheasa had stood on the opposite side of the plaza, as she was not supposed to be involved here. She knelt at once, bowing her head towards Eirwen. There was clear shock on her face at being named Vicomtesse in place of her behated sister, but also gleeful joy that she managed to suppress just before her own image also appeared. As for Gráinne, after two counts of shock, her head shot up and looked at Eirwen with pure hatred.

Kneel.

No vocal command, just a mental one, but with enough force that it echoed in the heads of everyone at the plaza. And with it came immense pressure, powerful enough that those near Gráinne instantly bent the knee. As for Gráinne herself, she bore the brunt of the attack, smashing to the floor while her face turned pale, before beginning to turn blue. Eirwen kept up the pressure for a third of a moment, before pulling back. As the woman gasped for air, Eirwen allowed her own rage to be both visible and audible.

"Your sister has plenty of reason to hate you, so her treatment of you was meant to determine whether she gets to rise to the rank of Comtesse. But if you so eagerly wish to commit treason, I can save her the trouble. Just say the word, and I will have your body hung off the town gates, while none will be allowed to mourn your demise. Or hold your tongue and keep your head down. Your choice."

Silence and pale faces all around. The two withdrew, their places taken by the last of the council. "Baroness Marsaili Roideach, your mastery of logistics resisted our attempts of sabotage. Sir Fearghas Roideach, you did the same at the front. Marsaili, I need your skills to manage the treasury. Fearghas, you will serve as Baron Roideach, with hope that you will prove yourself worthy of the title of Vicomte."

As the last council member stepped back in line, Eirwen looked at the Verglas carriages at the other end of the plaza. "There is one more on trial today. I have no name to call him by, for he has forfeited it. He serves me now as my weapon master, but before then, he led armies against me. I call for you now. Come forth and face my judgement."