Capítulo 638: Chapter 638: Border Crisis
The dire news from the Dornish frontier rode swift steeds and breached the gates of King's Landing.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A knight from the Riverlands, his armor bespattered with blood, clutching the hilt of his sword, hastily ascended the steps and entered the Throne Room.
At the moment, the Throne Room was a hive of activity, filled to the brim with nobles of King's Landing. King Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, his countenance serene beneath the Valyrian steel crown adorned with red rubies.
Not far from him, an additional seat had been placed for Queen Arianne, who cradled her daughter Daenerys Targaryen in her arms, a hint of displeasure on her face.
The council's dignitaries flanked the King, with Hand of the King Jon Connington leading, followed by the princesses – Lady Renly, the Duchess of Highgarden, and Daenerys Targaryen, the Duchess of Dragonstone.
Further down the line were the Master of Laws, Master of Whisperers, Royal Advisors, Master of Agriculture, Master of Coin, and the Grand Maester, each bearing varied expressions – some stern, others reveling in schadenfreude, while some maintained a cryptic silence.
The young brunette female dragon knight below clenched the hilt of her Dark Sister, took a deep breath, and lifted her head once more.
Before the official cry for help, ravens had already delivered the news to King's Landing; everyone present had, to varying degrees, heard about the rebellion in the borderlands.
"Dornish savages, always harboring ill intentions, repeatedly breaching our borders!"
"They've burned nearly everything – our farmlands, grains, and homes."
The knight seeking aid hailed from the House Meriweather of the Longtable. He knelt before the Iron Throne, disregarding the scowls from the Queen and the Master of Laws as he voiced his grievances loudly.
"Your Grace, I beseech you to send troops to quell the rebellion!"
A month ago, a conflict between nobles erupted in the Dornish borderlands. Although not a widespread war, a knight from the Riverlands was slain, keeping things within a controllable scope.
However, a recent incident exacerbated the discord.
One of the most powerful lords of Dorne, whose ancestors once styled themselves as 'Kings of the Cliff and Sky', Lord Franklin Fowler of Skyreach, lost his only male heir, Orwin Fowler, during an expedition into the Riverlands chasing fleeing peasants. He was felled by knights of House Cintford, meeting his end in the Riverlands.
The Old Falcon, upon hearing the news, was furious. He marshaled two thousand Dornish soldiers, invaded the Riverlands, pillaged and plundered, and seized Cintford Keep. Except for the Lord of Cintford, all members of House Cintford who failed to escape were slaughtered mercilessly by the Dornish.
This act infuriated the nobles of the Riverlands, who rallied their soldiers in retaliation. Three fierce battles ensued, with no clear victor.
Now, as the 'Guardian of the Pass', Franklin Fowler had unleashed his rage. Yet, after cooling down, he felt an ominous premonition, hence retreated to Prince's Pass, guarding the key point without venturing out.
However, instead of retreating, the Riverland nobility alliance fortified their positions in front of Prince's Pass with several thousand gathered private soldiers, posing a threat without assaulting, seeking justice for House Cintford.
On the other hand, they dispatched a knight from House Meriweather to King's Landing, beseeching the King for assistance, alleging a rebellion in Dorne, and begging His Grace to deliver justice.
As Sir Ryken Meriweather's voice fell, the nobles of King's Landing couldn't help but whisper among themselves, discussing the audacious 'Sky King' while casting subtle glances at the Dornish Queen and the Master of Laws.
The Martells, historically loyal allies of the Targaryens and now related through marriage with a daughter born to the King, had, due to their formidable influence, become the focus of envy and scrutiny.
"Your Grace, I am willing to lead the troops to Dorne and quell the rebellion personally."
At this moment, having heard Sir Ryken Meriweather's grievances, the gloomy Dornish finally stood up.
Yet, he offered no explanation for his kin, knowing well that the reputation of Dorne at court wasn't favorable, for their power had made them targets of envy.
Thus, Oberyn stepped forward, volunteering to lead the army to breach Prince's Pass, capture Lord Franklin Fowler, and escort him to King's Landing for trial.
However, Oberyn's proposal met opposition from the Hand of the King, Jon Connington. Despite their good personal relations since the Council of the Gifted, the stern, inflexible, silver-haired man believed in separating public affairs from private matters.
"Prince Oberyn, as the Prince of Dorne, should abstain voluntarily."
The cold voice of the Hand of the King resonated, then he turned to the young silver-haired King on the Iron Throne.
"Your Grace."
"The Guardian of the Pass, Lord Franklin Fowler of Skyreach, has flouted the laws of the realm, mobilizing troops to attack villages and castles in the Riverlands territories."
"They've slaughtered the wives, children, and elders of House Cintford, burnt down homes, and fields of the common folk. He deserves to be punished."
"I am willing to bring Franklin Fowler to justice."
Below, Jon Connington, adorned with the Hand of the King's pin, sternly condemned the sins of Franklin Fowler, while the silver-haired young King on the cold throne remained impassive throughout, his emotions inscrutable.
He leaned back on his throne, observing the myriad expressions of the nobles below, the kneeling knight from the Riverlands, the gloomy Oberyn, and others. The transgressions of a lord from Skyreach against the laws of the realm seemed to concern him little; it was a matter to be dealt with according to the law, much like last year's rebellion in Stonehelm.
"Very well."
Only after Jon Connington had finished speaking did Viserys nod slightly.
"Lord Jon Connington."
"Your Grace."
The ordinary man with the Hand of the King's pin walked out from the crowd.
"You shall have two thousand men. Bring him before me."
"Also, send a raven to Sunspear, demanding an explanation from Prince Doran."
"Yes, Your Grace."
And Jon Connington bowed slightly, then retreated to his original position.
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