章 645: Chapter 645: Internal Strife
Certainly, Viserys had no intentions of shielding House Florel.
He shared no kin nor kind with the 'Old Falcon'. Why would he shield him? However, facing the ordeal in Skyreach City, Viserys was not particularly enraged.
He had known long ago that this battle was inevitable; it was merely a question of sooner or later. The landmine he had planted in Dorne a year or two earlier would eventually explode.
Yet, Viserys hadn't expected it to detonate so quickly. With Count Franklin Florel stumbling into the line of fire, Viserys found it fitting to use his head as a warning to others.
Indeed, long before Jon Clifton had drawn soldiers from the Second Legion to march south, Viserys and he had made the final arrangements during a face-to-face meeting in the bookroom of Meagher Tower. Everything was crystal clear between them.
He wanted the head of old Franklin Florel, and the Florel family had to leave Skyreach City.
Although the Florel family had struck first, annihilating the entire Sindford family, the Iron Throne upheld justice without bathing its hands in blood. The guilty were punished, while the innocent remained unharmed.
There was no need for Franklin Florel's twin daughters to be beheaded for their father's sins. However, after being stripped of their lands, their future days would undoubtedly be challenging.
Viserys also gave instructions in advance: should any other Dorne nobles partake in the rebellion, they were to be purged without mercy, leaving no lingering threats. Punish the rebel leaders, confiscate the family lands.
If necessary, Jon Clifton could send a raven, requesting the dragon riders to march south.
However, in Viserys' estimation, the war would not escalate to such an intense degree.
The resistance from the Dornish was not wholehearted. First of all, the resolve of Dorne's common folk was not firm, and the Dornish nobles had their schemes. The situation was different from three hundred years ago when the little queen Rhaenys set Dorne ablaze.
Jon Clifton, following Viserys' decree, marched south leading the army on an expedition to Dorne.
"Alright, Lord Sindford."
"I understand."
Listening to the victims' lament, the middle-aged man with grey-red hair rubbed his temples, slightly troubled as he looked at the map spread out on the table.
He had no idea how to assault the Prince's Pass at the moment.
Although His Majesty had said that when necessary, a message could be sent to request the dragon riders to join the battle, letting dragon flames burn on Dorne's land once again.
But they hadn't even knocked on Dorne's gates yet; it wasn't 'necessary' yet.
Deploying dragon riders was no small feat; it required extreme caution, and the decision could not be taken lightly.
After all, a dragon descending on Dorne meant an escalation of the war, no longer merely quelling the rebellion in Skyreach City, but a full-on invasion by the Iron Throne. This could easily ignite the national sentiments of the Dornish, inciting resistance.
The Dornish had, after all, a precedent of resisting dragon invasions. Furthermore, the harsh climate of Dorne posed challenges for the advancing ground troops.
Now, although the Black Death Balerion 'the Third' was gigantic, its growth had slowed down significantly with its increasing size and tonnage, far from reaching the volume of the previous Black Death.
Therefore, unless it was the most crucial moment, Jon Clifton would not hastily request the Iron Throne to dispatch dragon riders southward.
Otherwise, it would not only display his incompetence but also lead to an escalation of the war, something he didn't want His Majesty to perceive as a failure on his part.
"Does Lord Jon Clifton have any strategies?"
"How can we breach the Prince's Pass and bring the culprit to justice?"
"I see you've been pondering here for a day."
Meanwhile, in the central military tent, a knight with a long-winged dragon emblem amidst a fleur-de-lis pattern on his attire couldn't help but inquire.
The sweltering weather inside the tent was driving everyone irritable, making the tone of his question somewhat disrespectful. He was immediately scolded by the Prime Minister's guard.
"You stand before the King's Prime Minister, Stormlands Governor, and Count of Storm's End, Lord Jon Clifton!"
"Mind your tongue!"
"What did I say? I've been here for a day; can't I ask about the outcome?"
"Besides, when did it become your turn, a lowly servant, to interject while I speak with Lord Clifton?"
However, the Prime Minister's guard's scolding led to a vehement rebuttal from the Levell knight.
"You—"
On the other side, the guard from the Prime Minister's Tower was instantly infuriated, his hand clenched on the hilt of his sword as he glared.
Growing up in King's Landing, with regular ingress and egress in the Red Keep, the people Lord Jon Clifton met with were members of the Privy Council and His Majesty the King. Who were these common folk in comparison? He hadn't expected that a few reprimands would elicit a rebuttal.
"Silence!"
But before the arrogant guard from the Prime Minister's Tower could respond, Jon Clifton, who was standing in the center of the tent with a furrowed brow, gazing at the map, raised his head.
His stern gaze silenced his guard, who immediately recoiled, not daring to utter another word.
He feared not these provincial nobles but his own master, for his power was entirely bestowed by Lord's hand.
Although Jon Clifton was displeased, he didn't punish his guard in front of the Riverlands nobles. Instead, he decided to replace him upon returning to King's Landing.
After all, leading the army south, although relying on some local support, he had to maintain a balance. Being too harsh or too lenient was not suitable, leaving an impression of either being overbearing or weak—neither was a good outcome.
Subsequently, Jon Clifton's gaze shifted to the knight from House Levell, who had just argued.
The knight looked displeased. He, a dignified knight of the kingdom and a guard captain of the Eyrie, was reprimanded by a mere guard.
But Egen Levell pressed down on the hilt of his sword, chose to swallow his pride in the face of Jon Clifton's stern gaze, and said nothing.
"Infighting before a major battle is the road to defeat."
"And if one cannot calm down, it's easy to make wrong judgments, leading to irreversible consequences."
Seeing both disputants fall silent, Jon Clifton finally spoke, his words serving as a wake-up call for many Riverlands nobles who had lost their cool due to the scorching Dornish climate, one of the many hurdles in conquering Dorne.
"I have a thought that might help us breach the Prince's Pass; what do you all think?"
Jon Clifton finally voiced the strategy he had been contemplating, sharing his plan to overcome the enemy.
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