Kapitel 33: Chapter 29 - The Fox's Due, Part III
Chapter XXIX: The Fox's Due, Part II I
1 BC
Skyreach
With the Reachmen beaten back and the Highgarden Concordat signed, the hostages were free to return home once the ransoms were paid. In the meantime, the Reachmen captives continued to be given the best of Dornish hospitality, with maid-servants and guards handling their care every hour of the day.
Meanwhile, to formalise his dominion over all of Dorne, Arin Rada sent invitations to every surviving noble house in the Desert and the Red Mountains, inviting them to Skyreach [1], seat of House Fowler [2], to make a pledge of fealty to him - the new Master of Dorne.
No one missed the implications of this move; House Fowler, descended from Lords of the First Men, once called themselves the Kings of Stone and Sky. Its Lords have always held the title 'Warden of the Prince's Pass', one of the principal passageways through the Red Mountains from the Reach and the Stormlands to Dorne. King Mern IX Gardener used such a passageway after overpowering House Fowler and exterminating the house after it stubbornly refused to surrender.
By making this declaration, the nobles believed that Arin was asserting authority over the remaining Dornish nobles, using the seat of one of the ex-kingly houses as the meeting point to drive home the point.
The Red Mountain Houses were badly mauled, some facing extinction with all viable heirs dead. Some were uncertain of their future. Others, like House Yronwood, adamantly refused to answer the call no matter what, for they all knew what Arin was now capable of and the lengths he would go to ensure complete and total dominance over the desert kingdom. Those still bound to their suzerains had no other choice but to fight when the banners were called.
House Uller of the Desert also refused to submit, despising Arin for causing the extinction of House Martell and fearing its power, along with many of its loyal vassals.
Yet some would answer the summons. House Qorgyle for one, due to its uniquely calamitous circumstances. Others did so for other reasons, the most prominent being the desire to ensure their security.
IIOII
The halls of Skyreach were richly decorated and sturdily built, providing much space to accommodate an army of courtiers looking to curry favour with the Kings of Stone and Sky. Richly furnished with gold-trimmed rugs, silk curtains and tapestries of the crimson fox, it resembled a poor king's court, a luxury that Arin found House Fowler undeserving of.
The number of noble attendees this day were… few, to put it lightly. Too few for a king's liking. Not Arin, not the Black Fox who smiled approvingly at this development.
"You seem satisfied with so few answering the summons. Joyous, even," Sainalia remarked.
"What can I say? This shows the rest of the noble houses for who they truly are," Arin said with a smile, "Not that I expected anything less of them."
"And because they refuse to answer your summons - Houses Yronwood and Uller above all - you expect them to rebel and thus give you a just cause to put them down," Huang Xue smiled devilishly, "Truly, serving you is never a dull moment."
"I'd rather all the nobles submit to you to save you trouble, My Lord," Franklyn remarked with slight displeasure, "Then again, you are uniting Dorne the hard way, so there is always trouble even close to the end."
"We go through this much trouble and handle it properly and thoroughly, we don't have to deal with any more trouble in the future," Arin shrugged with certainty, "Just how I like it. Speaking of which…"
Arin spotted the Qorgyle family staying in one secluded spot of the hallway, the two young scions looking shy and nervous and shaky, no doubt still reeling from the trauma of their past experiences. Elia, ever the compassionate and protective mother, continued to reassure them and act as a pillar of support for her children, though she too looked reluctant to socialise with anyone.
Maryse, the Red Pole of the Tian Feng Huang, seemed a person the Qorgyles were most comfortable with, almost as if she were a second mother to them. He had to admit, seeing the ruthless and brutally efficient killer talented with poisons be so gentle and kind to the Qorgyles, he had only seen her speak so softly to her torture victims, and it was a vicious kind of softness.
The gentle kind of softness made this juxtaposition feel rather strange and jarring to him, yet at the same time he was reassured of his posting of Maryse to Zolha Noy.
As soon as Maryse spotted Arin approaching them, she was quick to bow in deference.
"Your Lordship," She greeted.
At this the Qorgyles hastily bowed to him as well, and Arin waved them off gently.
"At ease," He said, then turned to face Lewyn, "How are you all?"
"Good," Lewyn answered.
"Has Maryse been helpful to you?" Arin asked.
Arin already knew from secret correspondence that Maryse was helping House Qorgyle, but he wished to hear the answer from the mouths of the Qorgyle family themselves.
"She's been good to us," Lewyn smiled softly, "And she's helped hold things together ever since my father-Rhodry's execution."
Arin did not miss the derision and anger with which Lewyn addressed his own father, and he patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort, something that helped Lewyn relax slightly.
"Thank you once again for freeing us from Rhodry's tyranny, Lord Arin," Elia bowed slightly, though Arin moved to stop her.
"No need for that in private, Aunt Elia," Arin said, "Between us, you can simply call me your nephew, your family."
"But… we don't know each other that well," Elia haltingly said, unsure of Arin's words, "And truthfully, you are the undisputed ruler of Dorne, officially or otherwise. No one can deny that."
"I'd rather not everyone places me on this untouchable pedestal as if I'm a god, Aunt Elia," Arin put forth, feeling uncomfortable with the thought, "And I admit, I should have connected with you and my cousins earlier when I had the chance, busy as I was."
"You were surrounded by enemies; I cannot blame you," Elia reassured.
"So let this be the start of us maintaining closer connections, at least," Arin reiterated.
"If you insist, My L-Nephew," Elia corrected herself, "So might I ask what is your plan for consolidating western Dorne?"
"Skyreach is a very central location which guards the Prince's Pass, a suitable regional capital with its thick, tall walls and high towers and defensible terrain. I plan to make House Crow the new regional overlords of the Red Mountains given their close proximity," Arin began, "As for the Desert, Sandstone is a more central location and closer to the Red Mountains, and with some modifications could serve as a suitable seat of power for House Qorgyle."
"It's mostly desert, and our only claim to fame is the quality of our sandstone," Druselka pointed out, "Wouldn't Hellholt be better with its Brimstone River?"
"True, the river could sustain agricultural efforts and house some trade ports," Arin admitted, "But we have our Hydromancers, and with a little work in building reservoirs and oases, Sandstone can play host to an agrarian industry of its own."
"Never thought I would appreciate magic for this," Lewyn commented.
"Magic itself is not inherently evil, unless it's the kind that demands unnecessary sacrifice," Arin opined with conviction.
"Beg your pardon for interrupting, My Lord, but the nobles are all here and ready to hear your speech," Franklyn cut in with a bow.
Arin nodded to him, and Elia said, "Don't let us keep you, nephew."
With a nod to the Qorgyles, Arin took his position on the former throne of House Fowler, a plush chair of burnished mahogany - the wood plundered from the more temperate Stormlands - and rested his back onto the backrest and feeling the soft cushion welcome his fatigued bones into its embrace.
For Arin, it felt more like a chair of thorns puncturing his back, bleeding him with ten thousand holes - as a throne or a crown was meant to feel.
"Silence!" Franklyn boomed, his voice ringing like thunder, "His Lordship Arin has words for you all!"
The audience quickly quietens down and pays rapt attention to Arin, seated upon the throne of Skyreach like a true king of Dorne.
"Many of you wonder why I called you here," Arin began, his deep baritone ringing out like a rumbling earthquake, "Some of you can already guess my intentions, but nevertheless I shall state them: I declare an end to our war with the Reach!"
At this, many gave a round of applause, happy that the war was over and their hated enemy was driven back from the sands of Dorne. The war had cost Dorne much, with countless towns and villages sacked and fortresses in ruin. The cost to repair all of them was ruinous and could easily bankrupt large, wealthy families.
Furthermore, the knowledge that countless Dornish died in defence of their motherland made some question if they could indefinitely defend against the Reach's aggression. Such was the effect of Arin's carefully tailored warmongering that though the Dornish remained confident in their ability to fight off foreign invaders, they faced the reality of defeat due to weak logistics.
"Even now, we are in the middle of finalising the details of the peace treaty, and then we may resume our lives in peace and prosperity!" Arin continued, "There is much work to do, much damage to repair, but for now, I declare a toast to Dorne united!"
"May the sun never set upon the desert! [3]" The nobles echoed.
And they drank deeply from their cups, a mixture of hope, trepidation and reluctant acceptance reflected in their faces.
"However, I must also declare several policies which will come into effect immediately," Arin declared.
Everyone who gathered here to pledge their fealty knew what to expect, so they simply braced themselves for the inevitable.
"First: No longer will the nobles be allowed to levy troops without my express approval! Any concerns they have with security of their lands, their homes and their possessions, they must rely on any troops deployed to their lands and their personal cadres of spies! Any and all of their levy armies will be absorbed into my army or the regular army or disbanded!"
Already there were muted grumblings among the nobles; if they lost the ability to levy their personal armies, it would effectively rob them of their military power and render them little better than political figureheads. Even worse, if they happened to be found guilty of any crime, the pre-tied noose around their necks would snap them clean before they could hope to escape.
For some, they simply accepted it with nods due to having no other option; they lost their military power in the Reach invasion, either in battles with the invaders or as fodder in the Battle of the Eyarha Plains.
"Second: All laws once practised under each individual noble house's court must now be rehashed in line with the Rhoyehom Code of Law [4] without delay! Any and all found guilty of delaying and even obstructing the process shall be found guilty of sedition and treason, and shall be punished by having their lands forfeit and the noble house disbanded for good, with all of its members demoted to Smallfolk! [5]"
Would Arin settle for anything less? Would he allow potentially troublesome houses to remain in power despite their wrongdoings, since that was long-standing tradition since the first inception of Lordism? The answer was a resounding no; one need only look at the countless casualties borne of Arin's relentless ambition and alien mindset that was completely unfathomable to them.
"Third: No noble house may instigate conflict with one another! Any and all disputes and agreements between yourselves must be settled under the law with House Rada's oversight!"
There was always the constant threat of war between kingdoms and feuding nobles, and as a result each noble was allowed to levy their own private armies for their own protection and to put down their rivals. Without the authority to settle disputes between their families, their language of power now had to be spoken in legal courts where nobility was worth as much as a sack of potatoes.
"With this, I declare the Three Commandments to be in effect immediately!" Arin finished, "Any and all who refuse to acknowledge and follow these commandments, you may leave with gifts and supplies for the journey home."
They refused the urge to scoff; since when did they ever have a choice?
No one left the hall, and as one they came forward and fell to a knee, Lewyn of House Qorgyle taking the lead as Maryse took her place beside him.
"Lord Arin, Dorne is in chaos from crooks and rebels who would sooner see Dorne burn than her united under your banner!" Lewyn began, his voice startlingly loud and clear, "We pledge our fealty to you this day, and swear henceforth to uphold the commandments of the new Master of Dorne!"
"Hail the Black Fox! Long live Lord Arin Rada!" The nobles chorused.
Smiling in approval, Arin said, "Then rise up, all of you. May you serve Dorne well!"
IIOII
Once all the nobles had left the throne room, a nervous Lewyn Qorgyle quietly approached Arin, hoping to talk with him regarding his earlier stunt with Maryse by his side.
"You did remarkably well, Lewyn," Arin reassured, "Not that the other nobles would dare try anything funny, but you taking the lead really cemented their place in Dorne."
"I see…" Lewyn said, "Is there anything else you need me or my family to do, Lord Arin? I mean, Cousin."
"Truthfully, not much," Arin admitted, "I just need you to officialise the transfer of your levy armies to me, and I'll handle the rebellions. You and Maryse will handle the administrative day-to-day affairs of Eyarha in the meantime."
"...Funny, I thought of being a mighty general when I grew up, win my share of battles and distinguish myself, make my ma and d-Rhodry proud," Lewyn muttered, wistful sorrow twisting his expression, "I really don't know if I'm contributing much by pushing a quill."
"Not all leaders have to be warriors, Lewyn," Arin gently pointed out, "In fact, it's in the handling of the aftermath of wars and a peaceful time that bureaucrats are preferred over soldiers."
"I know, Cousin. I know," Lewyn nodded.
"Maryse, I leave Lewyn in your good hands," Arin said to her.
"You need not worry, Lord Arin," Maryse reassured, "Shall I recruit from among the locals into our gang?"
"Do it. The more manpower and connections we have, the better," Arin ordered.
"Then we shall take our leave," Lewyn bowed.
Once Lewyn and Maryse left, Arin went towards the solar of Skyreach Keep where his advisors were waiting for him.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Hope I did not keep you waiting too long," Arin greeted.
"Since when have you ever kept us waiting, My Lord?" Huang Xue smiled.
"So, are our people in position?" Arin asked.
"They are, My Lord," Sainalia reported, "Once the troops have left their castles and fortresses, the rebel holdouts will fall once you give the word."
"The rebels' numbers are paltry, easily rectified with our current army," Huang Xue added.
"Then it's settled," Arin nodded, "Sainalia, have our agents ready to spring our trap once they take the bait. Franklyn, take command of the army and work with Garin to secure all of Western Dorne; not one rebel survives.
"Aye, My Lord," The three mentioned advisors saluted, "We won't let you down."
"Huang Xue, once the rebellions take place, I want you to draft an edict to be issued throughout all of Dorne," Arin continued, "Tell them this: 'All noble houses of the desert and the Red Mountains refusing to pledge fealty to Arin Rada, Master of Dorne, are guilty of sedition and rebellion. Their punishment is death, the slaughter of the two eldest generations of their families, the permanent exile of any survivors to Essos and the disinheriting of their families from their ancestral seats. No longer may they call themselves Lords but Smallfolk instead'."
"I shall strive to fulfil this task, My Lord," Huang Xue bowed with flourish, "Long live His Lordship."
As his men left to perform their duties, Arin walked towards the window of the solar, peering out into the vast mountains and the red sky at the climax of the gorgeous sunset. He sighed at seeing a colour eerily similar to that of blood, a colour that painted the mountains, rivers, clouds and sun.
I spilt the blood of countless armies to unify all of Dorne under my rule. How much more blood must my family spill to maintain my new order?
Arin let out a long, suffering sigh, feeling the weight of the entire world crushing his back and shoulders.
IIOII
Dragonstone
The news reverberated throughout the continent of Westeros like a hammer striking a gong; all of Dorne was now united under House Rada, and the last of the old houses were exterminated..
From the Chamber of the Painted Table, Aegon gave out a hearty laugh upon seeing the missive he received from Dorne, penned by Huang Xue on behalf of Arin Rada.
"That bloody fox, he truly did it! He's completely upended the social order in all of Dorne!" Aegon laughed hard, his chest drumming and his breath short, "And it took him just shy of a year!"
Visenya, on the other hand, grumbled under her breath like a cranky old hag, "I'll give it to him, he truly does deserve to be ruler of Dorne."
"And he really saved us the trouble of dealing with those troublesome nobles!" Aegon laughed hard, his chest heaving with every breath, "Oh, how I love our dear errand boy! I don't need to issue direct orders to him, and he gives me what I want and more! If Arin were a woman, I'd make him my concubine!"
"Seriously, Aegon?" Rhaenys teased, "Is he more attractive than your dear sister-wives, now?"
"I'm joking, I'm joking," Aegon reassured as he took a few moments to calm himself and catch his breath, "Honestly though, there's no one more dependable than he. Anyway, what's the situation with the Valesmen?"
"The Valesmen are rather edgy around our dragons, but otherwise compliant, though the Mountain Clansmen are another matter," Rhaenys shrugged, "Good job for that by the way, Visenya."
"Naturally, I aim to please," Visenya tipped her head upward with a smirk, and both Aegon and Rhaenys smiled, "What is our plan for dealing with the Westerlands?"
"According to our scouts and spies, the Westerlanders have been ordered by King Loren Lannister to hold and defend, using the natural terrain to their advantage," Aegon put forth, "A smart decision, futile as it is."
"Though it will make rooting out the rebels that much more difficult, especially if they have secret tunnels and caves to conceal themselves from our dragons," Visenya frowned as she spoke, as if she was dealing with pests.
"There is a silver lining to this, however," Rhaenys added, "We've received a secret message from one Reynard Reyne of Castamere, and he says that he wishes to enter into a secret alliance with us."
"Another alliance with another unlikely ally? Seems a little too convenient for my liking," Aegon remarked with a frown, "Though I don't deny the convenient timing helps our cause."
"Will Reynard turn out to be another Arin Rada, I wonder?" Rhaenys opinionated.
"Unlikely, sister," Visenya responded, "It is impossible to find a man of Lord Arin's calibre anywhere else in the world, or in our lifetimes, for that matter."
"The inability to find another Arin Rada is a comfort I'll endlessly treasure," Aegon interjected, "I appreciate what Arin has contributed, but I don't think there's enough room in the world for two or more of his kind; we'd likely face the end of the world instead."
"Heh, too true," Rhaenys smiled, "Though I suppose that means he is just an opportunist looking to gain something."
"That he undoubtedly is," Visenya agreed, "Shall I draft a response to him, brother?"
"Please do, sister," Aegon beckoned, "Tell him I would like to meet with him at a place of his choosing, and discuss terms of our alliance there."
"As you will, brother," Visenya nodded.
IIOII
Westerlands, Secluded Area
It was the dead of night in the Westerlands, the blissful night sky and shining moon painting a facade of a calm and tranquil environment with the chirping of crickets. Far from any civilization stood a single tent, guarded by a handful of knights and soldiers.
Within the tent, Reynard Reyne calmly bit into an apple, deriving a smile of satisfaction with each bite.
"Hm, the apples from my orchards are quite delectable - sweet and juicy," He mused to himself, "I must have the cooks make an apple pie to celebrate my coronation as the next ruler of all the Westerlands, no matter if I don't wear a kingly crown. Oh yes, the celebration will be expensive, but it will be worth it."
One of Reynard's knights hurried into the tent with a frightened expression on his face, saluting crisply and saying, "My Lord, the Targaryens are here."
"Already?" Asked Reynard, "How many have come?"
"J-Just the three Targaryen siblings, My Lord," Said the knight, "And their dragons."
Reynard quickly stepped outside the tent, and he had to stop himself from falling over in terror as his knees went weak, shaking at the sight of the absolute monster before him.
Large as a mountain, taller than giants and black as night, its giant maw with rows of sharp fangs resembled a set of serrated saws designed for torture, the orange glow within promising a painful immolation. Its amber eyes saw him like a predator saw prey, its tongue licking its mouth. There was only one answer as to what type of creature it was: Dragon.
By the Seven, to see a dragon in person…
"Calm now, Balerion. No need to be hostile."
The dragon's rider stood beside the black dragon, stroking its neck affectionately as the loyal beast obeyed his orders. Reynard was able to take a closer look at the dragonrider; youthful and strong, ambitious and arrogant, silver-haired and purple-eyed.
Looking besides Balerion and his rider, Reynard could see two more dragons and riders, the latter women bearing striking physical similarities with the male dragonrider - sisters and brother.
"Good evening," The male dragonrider greeted, "I am Aegon Targaryen, Lord of my house, and with me are my sister-wives Rhaenys and Visenya and our dragons Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar. You must be Lord Reynard Reyne of Castamere."
"Yes, I am," Reynard greeted as he quickly composed himself and harrumphed, "I am Reynard Reyne, Lord of my House and Castamere. I come to you with an offer for alliance."
"Do tell, I am intrigued," Aegon beckoned.
Reynard swallowed nervously, bracing himself as he prepared to give his rehearsed speech to Aegon.
Do not fail this chance, Reynard. The moment you do, your ambitions will become significantly harder to achieve.
"I come to you hoping to beg for clemency, Lord Aegon. The power of your dragons is known to all, and I know it is only a matter of time before your dragons fall upon the Westerlands and torch all who resist your conquest."
Play the assured but terrified noble wishing to preserve his own life and house, then slowly work his way into his graces, that was how Reynard usually liked to operate in his diplomacy.
"As such, in exchange for surrendering to you, I hope to be of use to you in your conquest," Reynard finished.
"I know you noble types; always hoping to exploit the laws of chivalry to save your own skins," Aegon remarked with a smirk, "I'm listening."
Masking a smile, Renyard continued, "King Loren is a smart man and knows he cannot hope to truly win against your dragons nor defend indefinitely, but he hopes that by wearing down your troops enough in his defensive war, he can force you to offer favourable peace terms and preserve the Westerlands' independence. His son Tytos, on the other hand, cares little for pragmatic tactics and only for the glories of chivalric combat."
"I see where you are going, Reynard," Visenya interjected, "You want to convince Tytos to revolt against his father, and then lead the martial might of the Westerlands to their doom?"
Reynard kept himself from shivering as he smiled in agreement.
"You saved me the trouble of explaining my plan, Your Ladyship," Reynard said, "Alas, if we do so too early, then we risk the usurpation failing entirely, so as much as I hate to admit it, we will have to enact our plan once the Westerlands nobles start to feel exhausted after fighting your troops for a lengthy amount of time."
"He is right, I admit," Rhaenys nodded, "I wish we could simply get this done and over with quickly, but such is reality."
"Very well then," Aegon said to Reynard, "For now, feed us information on enemy troop movements and keep us apprised of the political situation in the Westerlands."
"As you command, My Lord," Reynard bowed in submission, beaming with joy.
With this informal agreement finalised, Reynard and his knights quickly beat a hasty retreat, packing their tent and erasing any evidence of their being there, flying like the wind.
Meanwhile, Aegon and his sisters flew back to Dragonstone at top speed, enjoying the feeling of the wind blowing in their faces and dominating the skies like kings and queens of the Heavens. They have had to raise their voices over the wind, with how loud the whistling was in their ears.
"So brother, what do you think of this Reynard Reyne?" Asked Visenya, "He seemed really slimy and wily to me."
"He is slimy and wily - he's a snake," Aegon answered, "I have to admit, he's disappointing compared to Arin Rada; he's just like every other noble of Westeros I've ever met. And yet he's also too dangerous to let live."
"Does that mean you will kill him?" Asked Rhaenys, "Sounds fitting for a snake like him."
"Not yet. Not until he serves his purpose first," Aegon affirmed, "Then we'll pick someone more compliant to rule the Westerlands in our stead."
If Reynard thought he would get his way, he was sorely mistaken.
[1] Skyreach - A mighty castle located at the south end of the Prince's Pass, the shortest and easiest route through the Red Mountains from Dorne to the Reach. Also known for its lofty perch and soaring towers.
The height of the battlements allowed archers, ballistae and mangonels to have a higher trajectory when firing on the besiegers, but this worked against House Fowler when the Reachmen got too close for them to gain an accurate angle, and the archers had to fight without the aid of their own artillery.
Furthermore, they were exposed to trebuchet fire aimed at the base of the towers, which ensured they were quickly toppled in a brutal days-long siege.
[2] House Fowler - The hereditary Wardens of Prince's Pass, they were once Kings descended from the First Men and founded as early as the Age of Heroes, who warred with the marcher Lords to the North. Alongside the Daynes and Yronwoods, they were among the most powerful of Dornish Kings before Nymeria's Conquest.
Legend has it that House Fowler, once a motley group of First Men adventurers who roamed along the Marches, followed a single hawk with a striking azure colour soaring in the sky. The hawk would occasionally bring them food and water, which they used to sustain themselves.
The Fowlers, tired of fighting and selling their services to the highest bidder, would follow the azure hawk to their intended destination, where they found the Hawk imparting a crown of azure feathers to the founder of their house, Darrick Fowler, who would found his house and the castle of Skyreach.
The then ruling Lord Benedar Fowler, along with his three eldest sons perished in battle against the Reach, and though the last living scion Arlette managed to survive and was last seen fleeing east, she never came back to harass them, seemingly vanishing into smoke.
Since then, House Fowler was officially disbanded and ceased to exist.
[3] This came to be the national cheer for Dorne.
[4] Rhoyehom Code of Law - The standard code of law that represented the gold standard of legalism in all of Westeros and the known world, it allowed Arin to hold together a highly vulnerable Dorne decades after Aegon's Conquest.
Upheld and enforced by an independent judiciary, it served as another check and balance against the power of the nobility as educated smallfolk judges now held power to mete out sentences on law-breaking nobles (with help from the Tian Feng Huang).
[5] This came to be the absolute worst kind of punishment feared widely by nobles in both Dorne and, eventually, all of Westeros.
A/N: The last Dornish rebellions will be covered in the next chapter.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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Rangliste 
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Stein