The envoys reached Tyre before midnight.
Roland expected quiet. Instead, shouts echoed across the city walls, torches flickered through the streets, and bells rang from the central tower.
Lucien squinted at the commotion. "Looks like they didn't wait for us to make trouble."
Roland kept his gaze steady. "Tyre was already a pot ready to boil. We just lit the fire."
The gates opened slowly.
Too slowly.
Inside, three factions argued openly in the streets:
Merchants, shouting that Roland's victory meant security and profit
Knights, insisting Tyre should remain independent
Commoners, demanding justice for Karlen's raids
Tyre was pulling itself apart.
The Envoys Speak
Roland was escorted into the Hall of Assembly — a stone chamber filled with tension as thick as smoke.
The three envoys he had sent days ago stood at the front. They bowed deeply.
"My lord," the eldest said, "your victory against the northern prince spread faster than we could return. By the time we reached the city, the factions were already in uproar."
The youngest envoy added:
"Half the council believes you saved the coast. The other half fears you plan to rule Tyre the way Karlen tried to."
Roland nodded slowly.
"So they are afraid of becoming subjects."
"Yes," the envoy said. "But they also fear what will happen if they don't align with you."
Roland approached the council table.
This is what he had anticipated.
Not a clean alliance.
Not an open rebellion.
But a city caught in the middle.
And that middle was exactly where Roland could take control.
A Challenger Appears
A knight in polished armor stepped forward.
He was middle-aged, with sharp eyes and a controlled posture — someone used to commanding men.
"Roland of Jerusalem," he said loudly. "I am Sir Aldred of Tyre. And I claim you are no savior."
The chamber murmured.
Aldred continued, pointing a gauntleted finger.
"You defeated Karlen? Good. But a single victory does not give you authority over Tyre. You march north as if all the coast belongs to you."
Roland's expression didn't change. "Tyre is free to make its own decisions."
"Is it?" Aldred snapped. "Or did you bring an army to 'convince' us?"
Lucien stepped forward, but Roland raised a hand.
"Let him speak," Roland said.
Aldred narrowed his eyes. "This city has stood independent for years. We do not kneel to warlords. We do not kneel to conquerors."
Roland walked closer until they stood only a few feet apart.
"And you mistake me for both," Roland said quietly.
Aldred folded his arms. "Then what are you?"
Roland answered plainly:
"The one who won where your armies fled."
Gasps and murmurs filled the hall. Aldred stiffened, jaw tightening.
Roland's Offer
Roland raised his voice so the entire hall could hear him.
"I did not come to take your throne. I came because Karlen burned your lands and you could not stop him."
Aldred flinched. Others nodded.
"I came because your merchants begged for protection and received none."
More murmurs.
"I came because the coast is broken — not by enemies, but by pride."
Silence rippled through the hall.
Roland placed Karlen's torn wolf-banner on the council table.
"This is what independence bought you. Chaos. Raids. Leaders who claim titles but cannot defend their own people."
He let the symbol of Karlen's fall sink in.
"Jerusalem is rising. Not to rule you… but to unite what has been shattered."
Roland looked at each council member.
"You may join us willingly.
Or you may wait until your enemies make that choice for you."
Aldred's Last Stand
Aldred stepped forward again, but now his tone had changed.
"You speak well, Roland," he muttered. "But Tyre has been betrayed before."
Roland nodded. "Then let me prove I am not like the others."
Aldred narrowed his eyes. "How?"
Roland looked to the envoys, then back to the council.
"By defending Tyre before you join me."
Silence.
"You face threats from the east — remnants of Karlen's followers. Threats from the sea — raiders who test your harbor weekly. Threats inside your own walls."
He stepped closer.
"I will crush them all. Not as Tyre's lord… but as Tyre's ally."
Aldred stared at him for a long moment.
"So you offer your sword without expecting a crown?"
Roland answered:
"I offer stability. And when Tyre prospers beside Jerusalem, the people will choose the rest."
Aldred looked shaken.
Not defeated.
But unsure.
And Roland knew uncertainty was the first step toward loyalty.
A City Tilting
That night the council adjourned without a decision.
Some members whispered urgently, arguing in corners.
Merchants approached Roland privately to thank him.
Commoners cheered him as he crossed the street outside the hall.
Tyre wasn't conquered.
But it wasn't independent anymore, either.
It was tilting.
Lucien joined Roland at the city balcony overlooking the harbor.
"You think they'll accept the alliance?" he asked.
Roland watched the torches glow across the dark sea.
"They will," he said.
"Why?"
"Because tomorrow," Roland replied, "I give them a victory they cannot win alone."
He turned away from the balcony.
Tyre's enemies would come soon.
And when Roland defeated them…
Tyre would no longer fear him.
They would need him.