Chapitre 21: Chapter 19 - Pride before the Fall 1
A/N: I hope you like the upcoming dialogue with House Yronwood.
Edit: Changed the dialogue between Arin Rada and Yorick Yronwood as not only did it flow rather poorly for me, some things just made it too cringy to read after doing a double-take.
Chapter XIX: Pride before the Fall, Part I
1 BC
Rhoyehom
The war for Eastern Dorne lasted just shy of four months in total, including the lightning-fast conquest of Sunspear that concluded with the extinction of the centuries-old House Martell. The campaign for Western Dorne was postponed for six months as House Rada consolidated its gains, and recruiters went far and wide to solicit recruits to fill House Rada's armies.
Some stubborn idealists or blind devotees who foolishly believed in Dornish might believed that even with the terrible setbacks suffered in the Red Mountains, they could rebound and drive them back; the Reachmen were used to their fertile breadbasket - their lush forests and thick, vast grassfields and ample wells and springs - they did not know the lethal dangers of the Dornish desert like they did.
And they, like all Dornish, fanatically believed in their right to independence, believing that the Reachmen were heretics and murderers of the highest order for daring to trespass, to conquer their lands. They hoped that with valiant resistance, they could teach the Reach a harsh lesson in humility and send them running back from whence they came.
Unfortunately, the Seven saw fit to cruelly dash their hopes.
Though the Red Mountains were dangerous terrain for large armies, the Reachmen trained hardy men used to war and their knights were far superior to Dornish cavalry. Their superior logistics ensured they were well-supplied, and while suffering initial losses in the early days of the war, the Reach had brilliant commanders who grew wiser to the Dornish way of warfare.
Not to say the Dornish did not have talented commanders of their own, but they were too used to raiding and harassing their enemies and lacked the equipment and tactics to defeat an enemy used to conventional warfare. Dornish supplies had also rapidly depleted once they could no longer steal from Reach supply caravans, leading to starvation and a precipitous drop in morale among their people.
Even worse, House Wyl, legendary for its wicked deeds in war and peace, was exterminated by the Reachmen army under King Mern Gardener IX, after an anonymous source tipped them off about the Boneway tunnels known only to the besieged, allowing them to set them on fire and smoke out the felons.
The Reachmen had no mercy, and though oft considered a heinous act, a special exception was made as every single member of House Wyl - man, woman and child - was slaughtered to the last.
House Dayne soon followed, and countless villages and towns were sacked as Reachmen pillaged and looted with the King's tacit approval, slaughtering countless Dornish who resisted. House Yronwood was subdued after a fifteen-day siege that saw their ancestral home severely damaged and at least two of its sons dead. There was terrible resentment on both sides, the result of grudges both old and new, but House Yronwood was beaten and no one could change that.
Following the aftermath of the Siege of Yronwood Castle, the Desert Dornish fell into an orgy of panic and quickly rallied their forces in preparation for battle; they held even fewer troops and supplies and faced an enemy emboldened and experienced with fighting their kind, so their prospects were bleak, and yet they would fight nevertheless. They could not afford to lose, not when they stood to lose their freedom and so much more.
They had a limited reprieve to make their preparations - a scant few months.
And part of those preparations involved sending a diplomat to the one man they loathed as a Targaryen lapdog: Arin Rada.
IIOII
A few months ago…
The war for Western Dorne raged on as Reachmen fought Dornish in brutal battle, settling grudges millennia in the making as men and women fought invaders street to street in a losing battle.
House Yronwood, seeing how badly their kinsmen were losing in the Red Mountains, sent one of its own to negotiate with Arin Rada and forge a non-aggression pact between their two houses. Not an alliance, never an alliance, and if House Rada was the one making the offer to them they would have flatly refused the very notion on grounds of pride alone; King Yorick V of their house valiantly resisted Nymeria's armies during her war of conquest, slaying her lord husband Mors in combat before being defeated and sent to the Wall.
Now, Ser Yorick Yronwood, seventh of his name and heir to Lord Olyvar Yronwood, stood before Arin Rada in his court at the fortified town of Rhoyehom.
Yorick inwardly scoffed; to think this presumptive heir to the Rhoynar legacy would so willingly sell out his own pride as independent Dornish for being the lapdog of foreign conquerors, and for what? An alliance to save their own hides?
He tempered his boiling emotions; Arin Rada was a highly cunning man who used every trick in the book and outside to rise to where he was today, and now stood as powerful as all the Red Mountain houses combined.
Without this alliance, House Yronwood would be bereft of a powerful ally against their ancient enemy. Surely he understands this?
"Presenting His Lordship, Lord Arin Rada of Dorne!" The herald called out.
Arin Rada, conqueror of Eastern Dorne and the Stepstones, the pretender who ousted and extinguished House Martell, Saviour of the Rhoynar among other titles. A young man ten-and-two years his junior.
A man whose eyes sent chilling shivers down his spine - eyes full of supreme confidence and paranoia.
"I bid you welcome to Rhoyehom, Ser Yorick," Arin greeted cordially, though his steely eyes narrowed at Yorick, "I take it this is no social call?"
Short and succinct, befitting a man of his position, a temperament Yorick grudgingly approved.
"I greet you, Lord Arin Rada, and you are quite right," Yorick greeted back, curtseying as per protocol, "I come to you with a request for an alliance of mutual aid between our two houses. I take it you know of the Reach invasion of our soil?"
"Who in Dorne has not heard of it?" Asked Arin, "Who in Dorne does not fear being defeated?"
"Then surely you understand the need for peace between our houses, Lord Rada?" Yorick questioned, "I, for one, do not wish to have to fight you while we face a… superior enemy."
He did not miss Arin's slight quirk of his lips at his hesitance, though Arin stayed quiet.
"In exchange for a non-aggression pact, House Yronwood is fully willing to resume trade between our lands and recognise your sovereignty as an independent Dornish Kingdom. All we ask is for you to intercede on our behalf to House Targaryen, and ask that he spare us and allow our independence."
Arin's quirking lips fell to a blank horizontal line and his eyes flashed with a different emotion as he listened, though they remained cold and stoic and betrayed little emotion. When Yorick VII finished his sentence, Arin began to speak.
"Do you honestly believe you can outlast the Reach by yourselves? Even if you ally with the Desert Dornish?"
"I beg your pardon?" Yorick asked in bewilderment.
"You speak as if even if you do not reach out to a foreign nation or a rebel power like me for aid, you will survive and endure as you always have," Arin pointed out, sounding both immensely disappointed and outraged, his eyes flashing with anger, "Do you truly believe that?"
"Yes, we do, Lord Arin," Yorick answered resolutely, "We may have suffered setbacks, but we will triumph without fail; we cost Princess Nymeria's armies heavily in her quest to unite Dorne, and only by our proud House surrendering to her did Dorne unite."
"True," Arin acknowledged, "But I am not Princess Nymeria the Uniter."
"...Yes, you're not," Yorick slowly nodded.
"As for your offer, I'm afraid that House Targaryen will never accept," Arin answered, "And the reason is that they want to conquer and unite all of Westeros, Dorne included. Naturally, your house stands in their way, and they won't tolerate your independence."
Yorick frowned heavily, biting back a very undiplomatic retort.
"Even if you intercede on our behalf?" He questioned.
"Even that," Arin nodded, "There is nothing I can do to convince him otherwise. I can try, if you insist, but don't expect a favourable answer from my suzerain."
Yorick tried his very best to mask his emotions behind a poker face, his failure a heavy sting on his heart.
"I will, however, accept a pact of non-aggression and some trade agreements between our houses," Arin added, drawing Yorick's attention, "It would not be good if you left empty-handed, no?"
Yorick felt himself smile in relief; perhaps there was light at the end of the tunnel after all.
"I greatly appreciate your magnanimity, Lord Arin. House Yronwood thanks you."
IIOII
Houses Fowler and Manwoody had fallen. House Wyl had fallen. House Dayne had fallen.
So many Red Mountain Houses had fallen, and the Houses of the Torrentine were not spared. Save for a few minor houses, House Yronwood was now the only remaining major Red Mountain House that still stood, and it would not be long before the Reachmen turned their rage on them.
The initial skirmishes were a disaster; the men of Yronwood showed terrible inexperience, and the last time they fought the Reachmen was easily two decades ago. Furthermore, their own supplies were dwindling along with their finances, leaving them in dire straits - unable to purchase food and ammunition and pay their troops.
It was not long before the Reach army was rapidly closing the distance, and though Arin did as Yorick asked, suffice to say, Aegon gave a less-than-favourable response to House Yronwood's plight. In the past they made do without help. Now, Ser Yorick VII was making a mad dash Rhoyehom again in a desperate attempt to solicit aid from the House they once derided as a dragon's lapdog.
It was in the dead of night when Yorick arrived at Rhoyehom, both horse and rider tired from the journey.
This time Arin was far more receptive to him, seeing how desperate he was.
"Lord Rada, please, hear my plea," Yorick gasped as he fell to his knees, panting heavily and sweating from his hasty journey.
"Slow down, Lord Yronwood," Arin held out a hand, his tone empathetic, "What happened?"
"We are besieged, Lord Rada," Yorick began, halting as he coughed heavily from exertion, "The walls… they won't hold. Too many to fight…"
Yorick quickly outstretched a hand, bearing a roll of parchment bearing the wax seal of House Yronwood.
"I think you'd best catch your breath first, Yorick," Arin interjected, looking concerned as he took Yorick's missive, "Take your time."
Yorick quickly collapsed onto the ground, and Arin gave orders for Yorick to be bathed and cleaned and placed in one of the guest rooms to sleep, while his horse was to be interred in the stables.
As Yorick fell fast asleep, Arin wasted no time opening the missive and reading it.
To Lord Arin Rada of Rhoyehom,
I pen this missive to you in the hopes that it reaches you in time; as you know, the Reach has hounded us day and night with trebuchets and arrows while our walls strain to hold with each and every boulder that cracks against them. Our men are valiant and our people proud, but even that can only do so much against overwhelming odds.
I know that we have called you a Targaryen lapdog, and I know that lasting peace between our houses is a fleeting thing that fate demands does not come to pass, but I know of no one else to turn to for aid. If we must accept vassalization to you and House Targaryen by extension, so be it.
I request only that you send reinforcements and help us before it is too late. Please, Lord Arin, I implore you on behalf of my family and my people.
Yours sincerely,
Lord Olyvar Yronwood
Arin could see that the handwriting was hasty, but he saw no reason to doubt Olyvar's sincerity as far as his request for aid was concerned. Whether they would truly accept vassalization, on the other hand, was another.
Nevertheless, he had his answer to give.
IIOII
Yorick awakened the next morning, surprised that he was lying comfortably in a bed in a well-furnished bedroom, smelling clean and fresh and not stinking of sweat. His clothes felt comfortable and clung neatly to his form, and the bed was so soft it was like sinking into a mattress of silk.
"Oh dear, my missive!"
"My Lord, are you awake?"
Yorick saw a maid greet him with a wheeled wagon of sorts, smaller than what he was used to and bearing a tray of hot food and drink.
"Excuse me, but why am I here in bed?" Yorick asked.
"His Lordship Rada ordered that you be bathed and cleaned and placed here in one of the guest rooms, My Lord," The maid began, "He says to rest assured that he has read your missive, and that he will give you his answer in the throne room once you've cleaned yourself and had your breakfast."
Yorick did not expect such hospitality from House Rada, and as such he could be forgiven for being taken aback.
"I… I see," He said, "Give Lord Rada my thanks."
The maid bowed and left.
Yorick feasted on a hearty breakfast of flat, unleavened bread with olive oil, goat cheese, fresh apricot and orange jelly and spiced bean spread, and Yorick almost shed a tear at how alive his taste buds became after partaking of this blessed meal; how long had it been since he last had such a sumptuous meal, subsisting on dry bread, smoked jerky and pickles during the siege of his beloved home?
He picked his plates clean and quenched his thirst with a refreshingly sweet fruit tea, before washing himself and putting on a change of clothes the servants prepared for him.
Yorick walked towards the throne room with a hasty spring in his step, hopeful that Arin would give a positive answer to House Yronwood's plight.
He walked towards the throne room and was quickly granted an audience, after which he quickly nodded to Lord Arin.
"Good morrow, Lord Rada," Yorick greeted, "I thank you for your hospitality."
"Don't mention it, Lord Yronwood," Arin greeted back, "I promised you an answer to your plight, and my answer is yes."
Yorick fought to keep himself from bursting with joy, settling for a smile of relief washing across his face.
"Thank you, Lord Rada. Thank you truly," Yorick said profusely.
"None of us can afford to ignore the threat the Reach poses to Dorne, despite our divided loyalties," Arin reassured, "I have already begun calling my banners; your people must hold out for two more days until then."
"Thank you again, Lord Rada!" Yorick said joyfully, his eyes brightening like diamonds, "I will ride back posthaste!"
As Yorick quickly dashed towards the stables with the aid of a guide, Arin leaned back into his throne with his eyes closed, looking neither pleased or disappointed with himself.
"You did not issue a call-to-arms throughout your realm, My Lord," Huang Xue pointed out, "And to travel from here to Castle Yronwood, even on horseback, would take up to two weeks. By the time House Yronwood's allotted two days expire, they will fall by then."
"I know, Shuren," Arin calmly answered, his eyes not opening.
Garen, Sainalia and the others looked at Arin with some concern, hoping for an answer.
"Then I take it you never truly intended to help House Yronwood?" Asked Huang Xue.
"I never said that; I said I have already begun calling my banners," Arin pointed out, his expression and tone sounding non-committal, "I also told him to hold out for two more days."
"We all heard what you said, My Lord," Garen added, his eyes staring into the distance as he pondered his thoughts, "And considering it took him several days to reach here on horseback, two days is the very limit House Yronwood can hold out."
"I see now," Sainalia spoke up, and all eyes were on her, "You cannot hope to make it in time even if you push the men hard in a forced march. At best, House Yronwood can slow them down before we clash with the Reach."
And Sainalia turned to face Arin with the eyes of a fox, "You want House Yronwood to hurt them as much as possible with the looming promise of aid."
Huang Xue smiled and laughed as he fanned himself, patting Sainalia on the shoulder.
"At this stage, there's truly nothing I can do to help House Yronwood even if I push my men hard," Arin pointed out, "If they made an official request for reinforcements earlier when Yorick and I first met, I could have moved to help them in time. Now, they are facing the consequences of their actions, and the only thing I can ensure right now is that the one who wins in the end is not the Reach, but me."
Garen shook his head sadly, "Truthfully, we never had a very good relationship with House Yronwood; when I was young, I heard that some of the Orphans tried to set up shop and trade with the locals for money. The ruling lord at the time, Lord Olyvar, drove them away by force with brandished spears and swords, and my people stayed away since. Seeing them facing such an ignominious end… I admit I cannot feel sympathy for them, yet their fall from grace is pathetic, for lack of a better word."
"They won't end, at least not yet," Arin pointed out, "Remember that unless circumstances truly permit, houses are usually spared and made vassals by the conqueror. Though I suspect any Dornish levies the Reach raises will be made sorely cheap compared to their own troops."
"Meatshields, in other words," Sainalia concluded with a shrug, "Serves them right, I suppose."
"That still leaves the Reach to contend with, My Lord," Franklyn spoke up, having remained silent for most of the council, "Their heavy cavalry are nothing to scoff at, and if we're not careful, they can envelop and break our formations with sheer numbers."
"We'll worry about that once we get to fighting them," Arin reassured, "For now, make preparations for the march to the Desert; it's time we take the fight to the Reach."
"Aye, My Lord!" The council chorused.
The die was cast, and the clash between two titans fast approached.
IIOII
House Rada mustered an army forty thousand strong in response to the Reach's conquest of Yronwood Castle, and for days they marched without rest to relieve the beleaguered Desert Dornish.
First to receive their aid was House Uller of Hellholt, who utterly resented House Rada as the murderers of their rightful liege lords. Though a house with a strong castle and access to the Brimstone river which irrigates its fertile land and acts as a canal to sea, they too lacked the numbers for a decisive engagement, and the Reachmen outnumbered their garrison five to one.
They would agree to a temporary alliance against the Reach but little more, and many believed they and their vassals were scheming to inconvenience House Rada in any way possible once the immediate threat passed.
Next and last of the greater Desert Dornish houses was House Qorgyle [1] of Sandstone, a town with little to name other than their famed material from which the town derives its name: Sandstone [2].
House Qorgyle had strong cavalry forces from its longstanding equestrian traditions, granting their heavy cavalry and horse archers increased speed over the Reach chargers, but the Reachmen, used to Dornish raiding tactics had easily baited the Dornish cavalry into a trap, slaughtering them wholesale and bereaving House Qorgyle of its one strength and leaving them trapped in the castle.
Rhodry Qorgyle, Lord of Sandstone, trembled where he stood upon the ramparts, his knees shaking and his forehead dripping with sweat. He looked with alarm as ladders lined the ramparts and men climbed up, eager to sate their blades with Dornish blood.
"D-Don't just stand there, get them off the walls!" Rhodry cried, drawing his own sword and killing some Reachmen levies eager to claim his head.
Throughout the town there was pandemonium as Smallfolk tried to take cover within their houses or crowd closer to the keep, where trebuchet fire was not as heavy and the stone walls provided stronger and better cover. Qorgyle men were being slaughtered in droves as the martial valour of the Reach proved superior to the Dornishmen, and the Reachmen more passionate in their thirst for vengeance. Yet the Dornishmen had far more to lose than their lives, and they fought with as much vigour and determination as their bodies would allow.
The Burning of Starfall, the Sack of Yronwood, the Razing of Wyl [3] among other atrocities galvanised the remaining independent Dornish into giving as good as they can give, for whatever good it would do.
"My Lord, we can't hold much longer!" A soldier cried, "We have to retreat to the keep!"
"Don't you dare run, we have to hold the walls!" Rhodry cried, his voice high and shaky, "Keep on fighting!"
"But My Lord-"
A boulder struck their position, and Rhodry Qorgyle was thrown off the walls and sent falling to the ground, the poor soldier crushed to a bloody pulp.
Bereft of their chain of command, captains desperately tried to rally their units to avoid annihilation, but packs of hungry Reachmen smelled this weakness and pounced upon their prey. One of the gates was even smashed down by a battering ram, and the forces of House Qorgyle were stretched even thinner.
For a moment, it seemed as if Sandstone was doomed to fall, its people subject to slaughter like the ill-fated House Wyl.
Then a horn sounded in the distance, and those who were on the walls had a good view of the dust clouds stirring in the distance. Those locked in combat were too busy trying to hack their opponents apart, but those on the keep's ramparts had the luxury of time.
One of the lookouts, taking out a Myrish Far-Eye - what Arin Rada called a 'telescope' - looked upon the encroaching army, and the moment he saw the flag of a silver fox he beamed with delight.
"It's House Rada! House Rada's come to help us!"
The arrival of House Rada's armies caused a dynamic shift in the battlefield; where once Sandstone was on the verge of falling, now the Reachmen had to divert over half their strength to intercepting the new arrivals. For the defenders it was a miracle, and they now fought to drive back whatever Reachmen remained on the walls.
A single detachment rushed towards the walls of Sandstone, through the smashed-open gate as cavalry ran down Reachmen levies and knights from behind.
The chariots soon smashed into the ranks of the Reachmen army, their cavalry and infantry following behind. They hastily assumed formation and crashed into the shieldwalls of the chivalrous Reachmen, and hundreds of infantrymen were sent flying like ragdolls cheaply disposed like trash, before being trampled upon by horse hooves in a messy mix of sand, blood and gore.
Scorpions on chariots found their mark, bolts impaling countless cavalrymen and knights as plate armour buckled before their power. Tucosar Fire immolated scores more, cooking men alive in their armour as the smell of roast meat filled the air. Men voided their bowels, knights tried vainly to restore order, and many others routed. Only a handful of knight commanders survived, rallying the remnants as they beat a hasty retreat.
Tired from the earlier battle, they quickly beat a hasty retreat, and the men of House Qorgyle soon celebrated their victory, and the men of House Rada entered to the adulations of the citizenry. At the helm was none other than Arin Rada, accompanied by both Franklyn Doratarn and Huang Xue, and their fame preceded them.
"Look, it's the Fox of Rhoyehom!"
"The Hero of Dorne! He's come to save us all!"
"Hail Arin Rada! Hail!"
As Rhodry Qorgyle heard the cheers reach his ears, he fought to suppress a grimace at his coming, and tried his hardest to adopt his brightest smile as he welcomed him into the keep.
"My gracious thanks for your coming, dear nephew!" He exclaimed with arms open, "Truly, your coming must be the miracle of the Se-I mean the Mother Rhoyne herself!"
"I suppose," Arin shrugged, shaking Rhodry's hand, "Shall we head inside and talk more?"
"Of course, whatever my dear nephew wants!" Rhodry eagerly answered, "How is my brother, by the way?"
"Doing good," Arin said, "He loves having a lot less work to do nowadays."
"Ha! I knew he was always a very responsible man, but everyone does want a break every so often," Rhodry put forth.
As they engaged in seemingly mundane banter the rest of House Rada's armies made camp in the town barracks and outside the city, getting to know their comrades better and get a feel of the town's intricacies; the layout, the strongpoints and weakpoints and notable persons of interest.
Arin noticed that throughout their conversation, not once did Rhodry talk about the impending Reachmen invasion, the state of his family and allies or of his tattered defences whose weaknesses were bared to the Dornish sun, or of Arin's plans and interests for Dorne as a whole; he simply talked about useless, mundane things that were better left for more peaceful circumstances.
He narrowed his eyes at his own uncle Rhodry Qorgyle, once Rhodry Rada, whenever Rhodry was not looking at him.
[1] House Qorgyle - Founded by Andal adventurers, House Qorgyle has a history spanning three millennia, a considerably ancient house from long before Nymeria's Conquest. It was first founded when the only heiress to its predecessor, Aimelia of House Qanorn, came under siege from duplicitous vassals who sought to keep her as a puppet to control from the shadows. This came at a time when the ruling Lord and his three sons perished under mysterious circumstances.
At the time, the founder of his House, Ser Gesmund Qorgyle, was more a mercenary leader than a proper knight due to living in poverty and his mercenary band, the Gilded Scorpions, was taking shelter in the town of Sandstone to resupply and rest before travelling in search of work.
They were little more than three thousand sons of the desert, yet they were put to the test when Lady Aimelia desperately sought protection after surviving several assassination attempts.
Putting their skills to work, they killed and defeated the traitorous vassals of House Qanorn, and having fallen in love, Gesmund and Aimelia married, and House Qanorn's holdings became House Qorgyle's holdings.
[2] Sandstone - Famous for holding rich deposits of high-quality sandstone, the town itself is not particularly prosperous or wealthy and primarily makes its living from sandstone mining, horse-breeding and pottery.
At the time of Aegon's Conquest, its highest population count was ten thousand, and was protected by a handful of forts which were quickly overwhelmed by the invading Reachmen.
[3] The Three Calamities - What the Burning of Starfall, the Sack of Yronwood, the Razing of Wyl are referred to among the Red Mountain Dornish, considering the speed and force with which the three fortresses fell and the brutality that followed. Though most villages and towns were spared, the Reachmen reserved special hatred for the old ruling houses who most often raided their borders, House Wyl above all.
It is why no one uttered a pittance of pity for House Wyl, whose sins are legion. House Dayne, on the other hand, was just an unfortunate casualty of self-defence borne from an unwillingness to surrender. House Yronwood was the only one of these three houses among several to survive, the survivors taken as political captives or propped up as puppets.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone