บท 5: Chapter 4: Highgarden
In Highgarden, Home of House Tyrell, Lords Paramount of the Reach, 3 months after the sacking of Kings Landing,
"WH-WHAT?"
"The Dornish have launched an invasion at us?"
"Are you absolutely certain?"
"Yes, My Lord! They've already taken over the entirety of the southern marches and crossed the Prince's pass & have taken positions near Starpike."
"What? How could House Peake allow that? They are responsible for maintaining the defensive garrison at the Southern Marches!"
"That is … the defensive garrison commanded by House Peake was completely wiped out, my lord!"
"This is madness," Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, Warden of the South, and Lord of the Reach roared in anger as he smashed his wine glass, a prized item made from Myr, against the wall, even as it smashed into pieces, as he vented out.
All the assembled Lords and Noblemen in the chamber just stood rooted into their places, their minds still trying to adjust what they had heard.
"Are they out of their minds? To invade the Reach of all places at such a time! Are they even aware of their own precarious position?" Lord Branston Cuy, the lord of Sunhouse groused, as he looked at his fellow nobles in bewilderment.
"Aye, have the reverses they suffered at Kings Landing addled their minds?" Lord Mathis Rowan, the Lord of Goldengrove asked in amazement, even as he looked at his fellow lords.
"Oberyn Martell must be even more incensed than we thought," opined Ser Baelor Hightower, the heir of House Hightower, as some of the lords began to look at him askance in surprise.
"Yes, it makes sense," agreed his father, Lord Leyton Hightower, Lord of Oldtown. "Just look at the path they are taking. It is just three days march away from Starpike, where they can come up to the Mander, and transfer their entire army by the river all the way up to Bitterbridge, where they can bypass the Rose Road, and avoid facing our armies, and continue on to Kings Landing. For them, that is the best option," the old Lord opined, even as he traced out the route he had mentioned on the map of the Reach in front of all of them, hanging from the wall, as guarded nods came from the rest of the Lords.
"Regardless," Mace Tyrell blustered, his face red and his jowls quivering in anger, "This outrage cannot be allowed to stand. I will not allow Oberyn Martell to rampage through the Reach as he pleases. Make preparations for an emergency War Council," he ordered as pages ran into the chamber and began clearing up the food platters on the tables set for the feast and began to rearrange the room and the furniture within. Another set of servants rushed in and various maps detailing the various regions of the Reach were put up on the large floor, while wooden figurines, depicting the various forces of the reach, were placed on the various points at the maps which denoted their staging areas.
Lord Hightower turned and faced the messenger, who had originally informed them of the invasion and asked "What are the numbers of the Dornish Army?"
"Going by the initial reports, they number unto 40,000!" the messenger reported curtly, as the room stilled upon hearing the man's words.
"Ngh! Forty Thousand! That must be a joke! There is no possible way for them to field an army that strong!" Lord Rowan Shouted in anger, with a tiny hint of fear lacing his tone.
"Yes! The Dornish lost most of their strength and their leaders at the battle of the Trident! It is impossible for them to field an army this strong!" exclaimed Lord Cuy, while nervous mutterings could be heard through the room.
"Are they making their way towards the Mander?" Lord Hightower continued to ask in a calm tone, even as the messenger, a man of House Appleton, shook his head.
"No, My Lord, they are staying put at Starpike the last I knew. I raced ahead to warn Lord Tyrell of this threat, while my companion stayed behind to gather more information. He should arrive soon," the man shook his head, and by sheer coincidence, the doors of the chamber swung open, and another man in the livery of House Appleton barged in, his face flushed and his hair matted with sweat.
"Reporting! The Army of Dorne has not yet moved from Starpike. They have now started to build defensive fortifications around the area. All the members of House Peake have been executed, and the commander of the Dornish army has taken over Starpike Castle!"
"WHAT!"
"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!"
"CURSE THAT DAMNED RED VIPER!" roared Mace Tyrell even as various other lords started to shout in anger, "I am going to…"
"You are going to do nothing," a curt voice interrupted him and all others inadvertently, as Lady Olenna Tyrell, Lady Dowager of Highgarden, and the mother of Mace Tyrell interjected as she walked inside the chamber, as the rest of the Lords bowed in greeting to her.
"Mother, what brings you here?" Mace asked in a strained tone, even as Olenna gave him a wan smile and seated herself on an empty chair at the end of the table.
"When I heard that Dorne had invaded us, I was actually surprised. I thought that it must have been a mistake, but now, I see that things are indeed different," she concluded, while Mace winced in dismay at having miserably failed to hide this bit of information from his mother.
"Yes, my lady," Lord Leyton opined, "a most curious turn of events. But then again, knowing the rashness of Oberyn Martell, it is not surprising in the least."
"I agree. That boy always thought with his heart and with his cock, not with his head. Always a bad combination for a prince of a ruling house," Olenna chuckled, while Mace frowned. "Really mother, must you use such a crude tone?"
Olenna glared at Mace, who deflated like a flat balloon, and shuffled awkwardly. "Really Mace, it is not as bad as it sounds. So, the boy is angry at what happened to his sister and her children. A nasty business that, Tywin has only grown more ruthless with age. But still, this was an action that was within the realm of our expectations; we expected Dorne to make a move of some sort after all. However, that does not excuse the fact that they have put a house sworn to our banner to the sword. This now gives us a legitimate reason to go after them."
"Of course, it does! Did you think I would let this slide?" Mace spoke indignantly, while Olenna shook her head at the naiveté of the men in the room.
"You are all thinking of this in terms of war. Look at the benefits, this can bring us, if we play this right," she advised, even as she took a sip of wine, from a goblet while all the assembled lords, looked at her in surprise as they took their seats around the table as the old woman advised them all.
"As of now," she continued, "the power balance in Westeros is effectively broken. The Targaryen's are done for. Robert Baratheon will become King of Westeros, that is given. House Stark, House Tully, & House Arryn stand to gain the most out of this affair. Jon Arryn is like a father to Robert, and is most likely to be the Hand of the King. Unofficially, he already is, even though Robert cannot crown himself King yet. Eddard Stark is more of a brother to him than his own brothers are, and Hoster Tully has secured himself by marrying his daughters to both those men, and has Robert's goodwill on the other hand for joining him in rebellion at the very beginning stages itself. There was a reason why Tywin went to the lengths that he did. He needed to do something extremely outrageous in order to get on the Rebellion's good side; and as a result, King's Landing paid the price, more specifically Aerys and his family did. That this action allowed him to gain favor with Robert and also gave him the chance to avenge himself against Aerys for all the slights that the Mad King had heaped upon him, makes this a win-win situation for him," she concluded, while the leaders of the Reach silently absorbed her words.
"And us, on the other hand?" Ser Baelor asked quietly, while Olenna gave him an appreciative nod and continued. A sensible boy that one, unlike my own.
"We on the other hand, fought for the mad king, no, more specifically, for Rhaegar Targaryen. We had hoped that in aid for our services during the war, the Targaryen's would finally see our worth and we would have our rightful place in the capital. But then, the rebellion revealed the true caliber of the opponents we faced, and you all know what has happened since then," she concluded grimly, while the lords of the Reach collectively shuddered as though they had experienced a severe chill.
The rebellion against House Targaryen had shown a level of warfare never before seen in Westeros in thousands of years. A war which had revealed to the world the talents of three extraordinary generals, Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, who had been equally matched by Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Battles were fought with increasingly complex strategies, tactics, and formations never before seen in Westeros, and were employed in equal measure by both sides. Enough to make even the free cities of Essos who were generally uninterested in the affairs of Westeros take notice.
However, while Rhaegar Targaryen proved equal to Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark when it came to planning and strategy, the same could not be said of physical prowess. In that regard, Robert Baratheon had proven himself unmatched, much to Rhaegar's fatal miscalculation. With the death of Rhaegar Targaryen, House Targaryen lost its greatest general, and soon fell, while the remnants of House Targaryen, that which remained after the sack of Kings Landing were in the process of fleeing to Essos in obscurity. In a way, it was most fortunate that the Reach had not tangled fully with the Rebellion.
Although Randyll Tarly had forced Robert away at the battle of Ashford, it was not a true victory as Robert did not have enough forces on hand to properly battle them at that time. Although, that had not stopped Mace from claiming that he had beaten a great general like Robert Baratheon. They, Olenna repeated to herself were the fortunate ones. Perhaps, the rumors of Mace's boasts had reached Robert, because true to his family words, at his next battle, he fell upon Jon Connington in the battle of the Bells like a thunderbolt, and wiped out the loyalist forces at that battle with a fury that had not been seen before. In a way, the siege of Storm's end had insulated the core armies of the Reach from having to tangle with the generals of the Rebellion, which apart from Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, also boasted of stalwart names like Brynden Tully and 'Bronze' Yohn Royce. Olenna seriously doubted if Randyll Tarly could prevail against the two wards of Jon Arryn, if both sides had equal numbers on hands. She did not even want to think of what could have happened. She had enough nightmares to last a lifetime already.
"Now, we are faced with a situation where Oberyn Martell and the armies of Dorne, are facing off against the combined armies of the Stormlands, the North, the Riverlands, the Vale and the West. Oberyn Martell may be a fine warrior, but it is folly to assume that he can prevail single handedly against the likes of men like Robert Baratheon, Eddard Stark, Brynden Tully and Yohn Royce. If there are worse odds than this in a stake, I have yet to see them. Now with their actions against House Peake, they have given even us a chance to get into the good graces of the new regime. If we subdue them, and make them surrender, I believe the new king could be made to overlook the fact that we were forced to besiege his birth home, and retain all our lands and titles, and emerge from this fiasco unscathed," she chuckled, while some of the lords laughed.
"Indeed," Lord Rowan concurred, "the correlation of forces is in the adverse to the extreme. The combined might of those five armies, numbers unto 200,000! If we add our forces into the mix, that rises up to 300,000. This is a suicidal gambit. They cannot win!"
"Not quite, my lords, my lady," the meek voice of the second messenger cut into the room, and everyone turned to look at the man, who seemed unusually apprehensive.
"Hmm… there is more to your report then?" Lord Tyrell inquired with a booming voice as he gazed squarely upon the messenger as the man shifted nervously and nodded.
"First of all, My Lords, My Lady, Prince Oberyn Martell does not command the Dornish Army," he finished quietly, and at the same time, every single person in the room became still as the shocking words reverberated throughout the chamber.
"Messenger, repeat that one more time," Lord Hightower commanded with a terse tone, as the man repeated again, "Prince Oberyn Martell does not command the Dornish Army, My Lords!"
"That is outrageous!"
"The full might of Dorne is at last revealed and its greatest general is not in command! It makes no sense!"
Much chatter and hubbub ensued and Olenna banged her goblet on her table to gain the attention of everyone and to silence the room.
"Who commands the army?" Ser Baelor asked quietly as everyone leaned forward to hear the answer.
"Young Prince Quentyn Martell, the heir of Dorne," was the curt reply.
There were looks of stunned unflattering disbelief upon the faces of everyone, the most prominent being Olenna herself.
"A boy of fourteen! Myriah Martell has staked the existence of her house and her kingdom upon the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old boy?" Lord Rowan asked in a hoarse whisper, as the information sunk in.
"They are out of their minds, after all! This confirms it beyond a doubt!" Lord Cuy exclaimed and began to speak, when a loud commotion was heard outside the doors interrupting them all.
Suddenly, the doors of the chamber were flung open and the maester of Highgarden, maester Lomys rushed in with a troubled look.
"My Lord, Urgent news from Kings Landing! Dire words!" the man was nearly out of breath as every man jumped to his feet in alarm upon seeing the almost crazed look upon the old Maester's face.
"Calm yourself maester! Catch your breath! What is it?" Mace asked with a steely tone, surprising everyone present with the change in his demeanor.
"Lords Hoster Tully and Varys have sent word! The Ironborn have moved at last! The Ironborn have attacked Lannisport, White Harbor & Seagard. Lord Varys states that only the North was able to fend off the attacks, but the Westerlands and Riverlands have been hard hit. In response to this threat, Lords Hoster Tully and Tywin Lannister have begun the process of sending their respective armies back to their lands. Furthermore, Lord Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle have advised us to have the Redwyne fleet on the ready to repel any attacks on the Shield Islands and the Arbor as well," the man concluded in a grim tone.
Then all hell broke loose.
"Send Ravens immediately to all the lands bordering on the sea side! Warn them of possible Ironborn raids!" shouted Lord Rowan, as a few pages ran out to obey his commands.
"Bring out the maps of the Shield Islands and the surrounding areas! Get an update on the positions of every single military unit in that area! We need to form a new defensive line! Send a runner to Lord Tarly and the army returning from Storm's End! We must make them re-route into the Arbor to deal with this threat," Lord Cuy barked out another order as one more aide rushed out to follow the commands.
"Damn it! Why did the Ironborn chose to attack now of all times? If we send our troops to stop them, then we will be defenseless against the Dornish Army!" Lord Ashford bit out in anger gnashing his teeth, as he punched the nearest wall in frustration.
"This is not a coincidence," old Lord Hightower spoke out in a quiet tone as everyone turned to look at him in surprise.
"I agree. The Dornish and the Ironborn are working together," his son Baelor, muttered as he too looked at the map intensely.
"No doubt. That is the conclusion I came to as well," Olenna spoke up, unexpectedly serious, with all levity disappearing from her face.
"Consider the situation, My Lords," Lord Hightower, the oldest man in the room, who was also the most experienced general in the room and second only to Randyll Tarly in such matters within the Reach, spoke out and everybody began to pay attention to his words.
"It seems that our calculations about the fate that would befall Dorne is now premature. With the Ironborn Raids, the army of Westerlands and the Riverlands are now without a doubt racing back to their homes. Out of the estimated strength of 200,000 men the new kingdom of House Baratheon can reasonably expect; these two lands contribute nearly 70,000 men. So, the Rebellion's total strength is reduced even before a battle can begin by more than a third. Now, that leaves only the armies of the Stormlands, the North and the Vale. Of them, the army of Stormlands will again have to be split further to protect their core interests. Before the rebellion, they could field 40,000 men. Of them, after accounting for all the dead and wounded, we can practically expect them to now field only 25,000 men. And those 25,000 men will again be further divided each to reinforce the Stormlands that are recovering from our siege, and to cover the Crownlands that have been gutted. If there is no military presence in the Crownlands, there is a risk of remaining Targaryen loyalist's rising up, or the lands descending into general anarchy and banditry, neither of which is an option for the Baratheon rebellion. These two actions will require ten to fifteen thousand men each at the least. Which leaves Robert Baratheon, with only a core army of 10,000 men who are already battle worn. Similarly, the armies of the North and the Vale, the two remaining armies within the coalition of the rebellion also cannot be counted upon to commit their full strength in a battle with Dorne, as they too are battle worn. We can reasonably expect those two armies to commit only two thirds of their forces and not their full strength," the old Lord concluded grimly as he removed the corresponding number of wooden figurines depicting military units from the map of Westeros and rearranged them according to the new realities.
As the words of the old Lord sunk in, the pallor of the Lords of the Reach changed as the situation began to appear bleaker by the minute.
"How did the lands attacked by the Ironborn fare? Is there any news on that?" Ser Baelor asked Maester Lomys, who looked at the parchment in his hands and nodded.
"Yes, My Lord. Apparently Lannisport and Seagard are hit very badly. Only the Northmen managed to beat off the assault, though they seem to have suffered some casualties in that effort. Apparently, Lord Eddard Stark had made preparations for such an eventuality even before the Northern Army descended south to join the rebellion," the maester concluded.
"Figures, a general such as Eddard Stark would not be left unprepared for any eventuality. And the Stormlands are surrounded by the most turbulent seas in the world. Even the Ironborn dare not venture there," Lord Rowan opined, as heads nodded everywhere.
"So, that leaves only the diminished armies of the Stormlands, the North and the Vale, roughly about a hundred thousand men, give or take a few thousand, all of whom are battle worn, and tired against a fresh army of 40,000 men in their own lands, which gives them a lopsided advantage. When battling against an army in a desert, military theory and practice dictates that the correlation of forces must be at least three times more on the side of the invading force to stand a chance of victory. With a single alliance with the Ironborn, the Dornish have now rendered that null and void," Lord Ashford concluded, as a restless air permeated through the room.
"With this threat of the free reaving Ironborn behind us, even we cannot fully commit to the field, which removes us from the contention partially. At the very least, we have been prevented from wielding our full might, as we are now forced to keep some of our forces in reserve, for fear of Ironborn raids," Ser Baelor concluded, as the lords of the Reach now finally realized the gravity of the situation.
"This kind of strategy is not something one can expect from the likes of Oberyn Martell, he is not capable of thinking such far reaching plays," Lord Leyton concluded definitively as everyone's eyes widened.
"The only other person in Dorne with this kind of intelligence that comes to mind is Doran Martell, but he is long dead," Lord Cuy retorted as Olenna's eyes widened in recognition.
"His Son! The boy!" she gasped in shock as her eyes widened, as everyone turned to look at her in incredulity.
"Preposterous! Mother, you are going senile! Are you suggesting that a mere boy of fourteen years is capable of orchestrating all this? That cannot be," Mace waved of his mother's concern as she whirled on him.
"Then explain to me why it is that boy that leads the Dornish Army and not his uncle?" the old woman snarled at her oaf of a son, cursing him for his short-sightedness and arrogance. Her words were like a thunderous slap which jolted awake all of the Lords of the Reach, who began to consider the possibility that young Quentyn Martell was indeed the brains behind this ingenious Dornish ploy.
"If it is true, then the situation is frightening beyond compare. If the boy is indeed responsible for all the events that have occurred, then this places the sequence of events that have occurred in a new light. The Dornish could never have hoped to win a war against a guaranteed force of 200,000 men, added with the forces of the Reach waiting in the sidelines," old Lord Hightower began as he began to pace around.
"To cause the appearance of a potential threat behind the backs of the rebel coalition, that was his real goal all along. It's true that compared to before, waging a war in which you are uncertain of there being an enemy behind you or not, is like the difference between the sky and the earth. With the forces of five kingdoms dedicated to the war against Dorne, the sudden emergence of an unknown threat near their weakened borders will cause them to worry. If the war drags out, which it will, simply due to the fact that it will be fought in a desert, it is clear that the rebellion's morale will start to drop. If the boy is indeed in charge of the Army of Dorne, and has engineered this threat, then he has checkmated the board, with only one move."
No one moved, no one spoke, no one dared to even whisper, as they listened spell bound as the old Lord of House Hightower laid bare the machinations of their ancient enemy.
"I only met the boy once, when we had gone to pay our respects at Doran Martell's funeral. At that time, the only impression I had of the boy was that he was a shy child, prone to silence, and one who preferred to hide behind books, and liked to stay in the shadows. But it is very well possible that a truly terrifying Martell prince molded in the likes of the ancient Rhoynar Kings of old has been born again. But for a fourteen-year-old boy to have arranged all this, one who hasn't even come of age, no less…if that is the case, then we must destroy the Dornish here and now! We cannot let a threat of that caliber mature and come into his own," Olenna whirled around, her mind whirling with various possibilities, even as others came to terms with the fact that a fourteen-year-old boy had indeed played all of westeros like a fiddle.
"But, what could have forced the boy to take the field like this in such a blatant and grandiose manner? If it is truly him that is in charge of the Dornish military strategy, he is a frightening opponent indeed. To think that a mere boy of fourteen years could do all this …" Lord Rowan mused, his tone now laced with grudging respect as opposed to the ridicule before.
"If you have been checkmated, the only option left is to smash the board," Ser Baelor retorted as Lord Rowan's eyes widened at that, even as the other Lords considered that bit of advice. "The boy is aiming to secure Dorne from any military threats permanently. Which is why, they have moved to secure the marches and Starpike. Once they are firmly entrenched in that area, Dorne will be for all purposes unassailable. Not even with Aegon the conqueror's dragons will we be able to subdue them, much less dislodge them," the young knight concluded his analysis, even as his voice was laced with wonder as he finally divined the true strategy of their enemies. All the various Lords began to exclaim out in worried tones; indeed the morale in the room seemed to be dropping by the second. Then, the Lady Dowager of the Reach haughtily walked towards the map and callously knocked the military pieces denoting the Dornish forces down in an unusual show of bravado. She then turned to face her fellow countrymen, who seemed unusually downcast.
"Bah, I agree that the boy may be talented, if it is indeed him, that has engineered all this; but strategy can only take you so far," Olenna retorted with her customary flair, confidence back in her voice as she pointed to the map.
"I repeat myself. Strategy can only take you so far. Rhaegar was as good as Robert Baratheon or Eddard Stark, or even Brynden Tully or Yohn Royce at making plans and strategizing. But without strength of arms to back up your strategy, what use is it? The boy may make a good plan, but can he enforce it? Who amongst the Dornish can stand against Robert Baratheon's War-hammer? There is not a warrior present in Westeros who can! The boy may scheme and strategize as well as all the great generals of the rebellion, but without a strong arm backing his strategies he is doomed to fail. Not even his uncle, the famed Red Viper is a match for the Stag King," she concluded, as some of the Lords began to guardedly nod in response, and began to regain hope.
"No, you are wrong my lady; there is one man still present in Dorne who can win in a contest of arms against even Robert Baratheon. Indeed, it could be said that one of the reasons why Robert won at the battle of the Trident was because this man was not present at that particular battle. If he was present, then there was a very real chance of Robert perishing, and Rhaegar prevailing. But now, with Rhaegar dead, that man will return to the battlefield, eager to avenge his closest friend's death. We cannot presume anything," Ser Ashford retorted, and his words cut through everyone like a hot knife through butter.
"And who would this man be, Lord Ashford?" Mace Tyrell growled, while Olenna glared at him with irritation rife in her eyes.
However, Lord Ashford's next words, made everyone stop cold in their tracks, rooted at their spots, and made the very blood in their veins freeze for a second in fear.
"Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning."
Suddenly, Olenna Tyrell did not feel as sure of herself as she was a few moments ago.
In the heat of the moment, none of them even bothered to remember the fact that at the very moment Jon Arryn was going into Dorne, to meet with the ruling Princess of Dorne, Lady Myriah Martell, and the effect that meeting would have on Westeros as a whole and its possible ramifications towards them. All of them were too caught up in the moment to even care or realize it. If they had, and had taken pre-emptive actions immediately, it would have saved them a lot of grief later.
Author's note:
Well, Highgarden is done. Next is Kings Landing and Dorne, and after that, WAR!
Look forward to it.
Teaser: "Do not try to talk to me of what Tywin Lannister is capable or not capable of, Lord Arryn. I know it quite well. After all, the man whored out his own wife to Aerys Targaryen to gain the position of Hand of the King! I am well aware of what depths that loathsome whore-monger can sink to, to gain what he wants!"
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