Bab 281: Chapter 282: The Arrival
Mistwood, the seat of House Mertyns, was a prominent stronghold in the stormlands, surrounded by dense forests and ever-present mist.
Lady Mary Mertyns, the current head of the house, was well into her sixties but still full of vitality.
After dinner, however, the weight of age seemed to catch up with her. She sat by the fireplace, drowsy and warm.
"Stay with me a little longer," she said to her grandson, Roger, her eyelids half-closed.
"But aren't you tired, Grandmother?"
"A bit," Mary admitted, sipping her tea. "But if I sleep too early, I wake up too early. And I hate lying awake in the middle of the night with nothing to do."
"All right, Grandmother," Roger relented, settling in beside her.
The evening quiet was broken by the sound of rushing wind outside.
"A storm's coming?" Roger got up to shut the window.
"Most likely rain," Lady Mary said. She began recounting old memories to ward off her drowsiness. "The weather in these forests is always unpredictable. I remember the storm ten years ago, the worst in Mistwood's history. You had just been born, and your mother was terrified. If it weren't for me—"
A sharp knock at the door interrupted her.
Roger opened it to find their steward, Thomsen, pale-faced and visibly shaken.
"What's the matter, Thomsen?" Lady Mary asked. "What could scare you so badly?"
"A dragon!" Thomsen gasped. "A dragon has landed in the castle!"
"A dragon?" Roger's voice was filled with curiosity rather than fear. "Is it Caesar's dragon?"
"Yes. Lord Caesar himself is here as well. He's waiting at the top of the Owl Tower and wishes to meet you."
Lady Mary's fatigue vanished. Rising from her seat, she said calmly, "Then let us meet our guest, the new master of Storm's End."
With her grandson and servants in tow, she ascended the spiral staircase to the tower. Near the top, they encountered a group of armed guards stationed outside.
"There's no need for such tension," Lady Mary said, waving them off. "A dragon brings a guest, not an enemy."
"Indeed," came a clear voice from the rooftop.
Lady Mary stopped Roger before he could follow her further. "Stay here."
"But I want to see the dragon!" Roger protested.
"You will, but not yet. I promise."
Reluctantly, Roger stepped back.
"You too," she said to the guards. "Wait here."
Climbing the last few steps alone, Lady Mary emerged onto the rooftop.
Bathed in pale moonlight, the massive white dragon lay stretched across the platform. Its scales shimmered with faint hues, exuding a lethal beauty.
Before it stood a tall figure clad in bronze armor. A greatsword was strapped to his back, and he stood as still as a sentinel.
"Lord Caesar," Lady Mary greeted. "Welcome to Mistwood."
Samwell smiled, bowing slightly. "Lady Mary, I apologize for the late hour. I hope my visit hasn't caused too much inconvenience."
"Not at all. Age has robbed me of long nights' sleep. Your visit makes for a welcome diversion." She regarded the young lord and his dragon thoughtfully. "To what do we owe the honor of this visit?"
"I've come to ask a question," Samwell said, keeping his tone gentle. "To whom does House Mertyns pledge its loyalty?"
Lady Mary chuckled, her toothless smile disarming yet shrewd. "An excellent question. My late husband swore fealty to Robert Baratheon. When the Rebellion began, House Mertyns followed him without hesitation.
When Robert claimed the throne, he made his brother Renly Lord of Storm's End, and we served him loyally.
Then Renly died at Sunspear, and the Iron Throne granted the castle to a bastard. We refused to kneel to a bastard. Not to mention that the legitimacy of the king currently sitting on the Iron Throne is questionable.""
"So, House Mertyns serves no one now?"
"Indeed," she affirmed. "Stannis Baratheon once wrote to us, asking for our allegiance. We ignored him, as did most lords of the stormlands. That man is as unpleasant as they come. I hear he was routed at King's Landing and slunk back to Dragonstone."
"He was," Samwell confirmed.
"The Baratheon line has no worthy heirs left," Lady Mary concluded.
"I disagree," Samwell said, his tone firm.
"Who, then?"
"Me."
Lady Mary raised an eyebrow. "You are no Baratheon."
"No, but the Lords of Storm's End were not always Baratheons. Three hundred years ago, this continent was fractured into seven kingdoms. It was Aegon the Conqueror who united them with his dragons.
Now, the realm is divided again. It needs another to end this strife."
Samwell gently stroked the head of his dragon, which let out a soft growl, as he spoke with quiet conviction.
Lady Mary studied the young lord and his fearsome mount for a long moment before speaking. "Lord Caesar, if you can do two things, House Mertyns will pledge its loyalty to you."
"Name them."
"Renly Baratheon was our liege lord, and his death at Sunspear is an injustice we cannot ignore. My son Michael sought to avenge him but was taken prisoner by the Dornish. Free him and avenge Renly's death, and House Mertyns will serve you."
"I can," Samwell said confidently. "In five days, the Riverlands, Stormlands, and Dorne will meet at Bloodstone Isle in the Narrow Sea. Attend the summit, and I promise you'll see justice."
"Three kingdoms meeting on Bloodstone Isle? Is it safe?" Lady Mary asked skeptically. "The Dornish are treacherous."
"Rest assured. Bloodstone is uninhabited, surrounded by reefs that make it impossible for large ships to approach. I've arranged with Prince Doran that each lord may only bring one guard. The Dornish won't have the opportunity to play their usual tricks."
"In that case, I will attend."
"Then I look forward to seeing you there." Samwell turned to leave, but Lady Mary called after him.
"Lord Caesar, might you let my grandson ride your dragon?"
Samwell looked over to see a boy of about ten emerge from behind the door, eyes wide with awe.
"Fetch some thick leather breeches," Samwell said with a smile. "I'll take you for a ride."
"Really?" the boy squealed, running off to change.
Moments later, Samwell lifted the eager boy onto the dragon's back. Together, they soared above Mistwood, circling the castle three times before landing.
Roger's face was red with exhilaration as he clambered down. He watched in awe as Samwell took off into the night sky, disappearing into the horizon.
"Grandmother," he asked, his voice full of excitement, "can I be Lord Caesar's squire?"
Lady Mary patted his head, smiling. "I'll speak to him about it."
"Thank you, Grandmother!"
---
Leaving Mistwood, Samwell flew south to his final destination: the Weeping Town, the seat of House Whitehead on the northern coast of the Narrow Sea.
As he landed on a high balcony, startled guards scrambled to alert their lord. Soon, Lord Adam Whitehead appeared, his face pale but composed.
"Lord Caesar, what brings you here at this hour?" Lord Adam tried to keep his voice steady, but the dragon's sulfurous breath made him sweat.
"I want House Whitehead's allegiance," Samwell said bluntly.
Lord Adam hesitated only briefly. "If you can free the soldiers of my house imprisoned by the Dornish, I will swear fealty."
"Done," Samwell replied. "In five days, come to Bloodstone Isle for the summit. You'll get your men back and bear witness to what's to come."
"Bear witness to what?"
"You'll see."
Samwell mounted his dragon and took off once more, heading north. His tour of the stormlands was complete. Now it was time to return to Storm's End.
Along the way, he discovered that the Stormlands nobles were actually not opposed to pledging loyalty to him.
Thinking about it carefully, it wasn't surprising.
After all, he had already proven his strength in the previous wars against the Stormlands and had taken Storm's End.
In comparison, the Baratheon's decline was evident.
Although the king on the Iron Throne still bore the Baratheon name, everyone with eyes knew that he was a little lion.
Not a stag.
During this visit, Samwell could sense the Stormlands nobles' anger towards the Lannister's and their disdain for the bastard on the Iron Throne.
As a vanguard against Lannister tyranny, Samwell naturally won the favor of the Stormlands nobles.
Thus, Samwell was even more convinced that he could never kneel to Myrcella Baratheon.
Moreover, the white dragon's deterrent power exceeded Samwell's imagination.
Many Stormland nobles had heard of Caesar's dragon, but they had never seen it with their own eyes. Now, as Samwelll descended on their castle riding the white dragon, it was a tremendous shock for them.
This was also the reason why Samwell insisted on visiting all the Stormland territories instead of sending a raven.
He wanted them to witness Caesar's might with their own eyes.
Of course, many Stormland nobles still hesitated, probably thinking that Samwell lacked the legitimacy to rule the Stormlands.
But soon, Samwell would give them a reason.
The wind blowing towards him grew increasingly fierce. Unbeknownst to him, Samwell had already passed through the rainforest.
A streak of pale light appeared on the eastern horizon, heralding the dawn.
As dawn broke over the horizon, the fortress loomed ahead, a silhouette against the sea.
"Let's go home," Samwell murmured to his dragon.
With a roar, the white dragon dove toward the mighty castle.
(End of Chapter)
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone