Randyll Tarly felt like the gods were playing a cruel joke on him. He was quite eagerly waiting for the chance to take the fight to the Lannisters and even breach the walls of Lannisport while fighting side by side with Robert Baratheon. He had hoped to etch his name in the annals of history by fighting in the battle that'd decide the fate of Lannisport. But all his hopes and dreams were wasted away as word came from the largest city of the Westerlands.
Of all the things he was expecting to hear, he did not think he'd be hearing about the success of the Dornish army. Somehow, the accursed Dornismen had managed to breach the walls of one of the largest and most well-defended cities in Westeros. It was not the first time the Dornish army breached the walls of a city in Westeros. But it was the first time a Dornish force breached the walls of a city in the Westerlands. Randyll was almost certain it was the first time any army managed to breach Lannisport since the city's inception.
The tales coming from the city of Lannisprt were disconcerting. Wild tales were circulating among the men gathered at Crakehall. Fanciful claims and tales of sorcery were being spread amongst men of the army. It was claimed the Dornish summoned the waters of Rhoyne and flooded the city. Some claim the Storm god came down from the skies to punish the Lannisters for defying House Baratheon.
The most popular, however, was the rumours of Harrion Stark using his sorcery to bring down the walls of Lannisport.
Supposedly, the Stark boy came upon the city on his flying ship and called down a great lightning strike on the city wall of Lannisport. The wall seemingly collapsed, and the Dornish army under Prince Oberyn sacked the city.
Randyll didn't know what to believe, but all rumours claimed Lannisport had fallen to the Dornish army. From the war's perspective, it was a great boon to see the fall of Lannisport. With the city's fall, more Westermen would abandon the Lannister cause. More lords of the Westerlands would see the folly of following Lord Tywin and would seek to surrender rather than fight for a losing cause. Already, the tightly wound lords of the Westerlands were unravelling after the fall of Lannisport. That was why Randyll sought an audience with King Robert with Lord Gawen Westerling and Ser Elys Westerling by his side.
"You'll not speak until you are asked to. Am I clear?" Randyll stared at the two men stopping them from turning the corner towards the corridor that led to the king's chambers in Crakehall.
"We understand, my lord. All I want is for my family to be safe. The Northerners… have the Crag under their control. My wife and daughters…" Lord Gawen looked at him with pleading eyes.
"As I said before. Lord Stark has taken your castle. The Northerners have treated your family as befitting their station. They're safe." Randyll assured the brown-haired man, who was understandably worried for his family.
Randyll couldn't fault the man. The Northerners tend to have a dangerous reputation. Most of it was just rumours and old tales spread by the septons and septas because of the long years of conflict between the First Men and Andals. If anything, the Northerners treated the Westermen far better than the Reachmen ever would have under the current circumstances. The recent battle to claim Crakehall stands as a prime example of what happens when men are ruled by their desire for revenge. The over-enthusiasm of the Reachmen to take their revenge on the Westermen ended up robbing Lord Roland Crakehall of two sons. The Lord of Crakehall had been near inconsolable ever since his two sons, Tybolt and Merlon Crakehall, were buried in the local sept. Now, Crakehall's heir was Lord Roland's second son, Lyle Crakehall, otherwise known as the Strongboar. Unfortunately, Lyle Crakehall was in Lannisport, serving as the commander of the local garrison. Inquiries have been made about the Strongboar, but the Dornish have yet to respond. This state of affairs put them in an awkward position with House Crakehall.
For the time being, Lord Roland and his household were kept prisoners inside the castle rather than welcomed into the king's peace. It was a necessary move but a costly one as well. If the army had to move forward, they'd need to leave a considerable force to garrison the castle. After all, they could not leave Crakehall to be taken over by a hostile force. And knowing what he knew of the plans of Lord Tywin, their discretion in keeping castle Crakehall under their control was all the more necessary.
Randyll led the Westerlings to the king's chamber guarded by Ser Ary Oakheart and Ser Barristan. For a moment, Randyll wondered about the whereabouts of Ser Mandon Moore and Ser Preston Greenfield. But he was not worried as it was to his advantage that Ser Greenfield was far away from King Robert.
"Ser Barristan. It's time." Randyll said, nodding at the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
He had been holding on to certain revelations that came to light thanks to the Westerlings. After all, he had to investigate properly before taking up the matter with the king. Nonetheless, he had confided the details of his findings with Ser Barristan.
"A moment, Lord Tarly." Ser Barristan said, going into the king's chamber alone.
There was inaudible chatter coming from the room while Randyll waited patiently outside, with the Westerlings looking rather uncomfortable. He had to admit that Ser Arys Oakheart was looking somewhat intimidating today. While the knight of Old Oak was relatively young, this war proved that the knight was a warrior of great skill. He supposed the Westerlings knew Ser Arys' vow of cutting down every weapon-bearing Westermen to avenge his brother's untimely death at the hands of the Mountain.
'I suppose it's good that the Westerlings are deprived of their weapons.' Randyll thought, eyeing the cold look in the Kingsguard knight's onyx eyes.
The door opened, showing Ser Barristan.
"Come. His grace will hear you."
Randyll nodded. Taking a deep breath, he followed the Lord Commander inside with Lord Gawen Westerling and Ser Elys Westerling closely following him.
"Your grace." Randyll bowed, as did the Westerlings.
His eyes only briefly lingered on the stitched wound just above the left hip of the king. The wound had yet to heal properly, but the maesters were confident that the king's life was not jeopardised. Yet, King Robert was asked to rest until the maesters said otherwise. Besides, it was not as if they were in a hurry to move out of Crakehall. There was no rush to move against Lannisport, thanks to the Dornish army breaching the walls of the city.
"Ser Barristan tells me there is a grave matter you wish to discuss with me. Say it, Lord Tarly." King Robert said, staring at him and his companions.
"Your grace, I've uncovered a plot by Tywin Lannister to capture you with the aid of Ser Preston Greenfield."
"Ser Greenfield?" Robert asked in surprise, looking at Ser Barristan, who showed a grave face and no defences for his fellow Kingsguard knight.
"I'm afraid so, your grace. The fall of Lannisport has made Lord Gawen Westerling see he had erred in choosing to follow Lord Tywin and came forward with the information about the plot being devised against you in return for leniency." said Randyll.
"Ser Barristan?" King Robert looked questioningly at the Lord Commander.
"Lord Tarly had shared his concerns with me, your grace. I had been keeping watch over Ser Greenfield ever since. I'm afraid I've doubts regarding Ser Greenfield's loyalty, your grace." Ser Barristan informed the king, looking rather tired.
"Tell me everything," Robert commanded, and Randyll was only happy to oblige.
****
Varys smiled at the serving girl that came to deliver his early morning delicacy.
"I thank you, Alyna. I hope it was not too much of a hassle." he said kindly to the red-haired serving girl as she placed the cup on his table while he was going over the many reports he had received today.
"Not at all, my lord. If there is anything you need, you only need to ask." Alyna said, her face holding a perfect mask of innocence but a mask nonetheless.
He knew there were no 'innocent' servants in the Red Keep, especially one employed by Petyr Baelish. The girl's innocence had long since been gone or taken.
Varys was about to dismiss the girl when his office doors opened, and Jon Arryn appeared at the doorway.
"Lord Arryn!" Varys raised an eyebrow at the presence of the Hand in his quarters. "What a pleasant surprise. Please sit, my Lord Hand."
"Alyna, my dear. Pour a cup for Lord Arryn, and close the door behind while you leave."
"Of course, my lord."
The serving girl filled the cup with the aromatic fluid before she took her leave, closing the door behind her as she left.
"She's a dutiful little thing, isn't she? Her mother owes Lord Baelish a considerable sum of gold, and Lord Baelish being the merciful lord he is, took pity on the family and employed the girl in his service at Gulltown. And now, she serves in the Red Keep. Wonderful story, isn't it?" Varys said, smiling at the old wizened lord of the Eyrie.
"Fascinating. I came to see whether there is any word from Casterly Rock and Lannisport." Jon Arryn said, not the least bit bothered about some serving girl.
'Not so wise now, are you, Lord Arryn?' Varys thought amusedly, disregarding his innocuous warning about the serving girl despite the fact that the Master of Coin was subtly filling up the Red Keep with servants that owed him their loyalty.
It never ceased to amaze Varys how blind the high lords of Westeros could become.
'They think they are so high and mighty that they look for enemies and threats amongst their equals while completely disregarding the knives in the shadows.' Varys thought amusedly.
"The Dornish army, by means that I cannot confirm as of now, has breached the walls of Lannisport. They've established total control over the western parts of the city. The garrison inside the city is giving stiff resistance, so fighting continues as we speak. However, many houses of Westerlands have started to abandon Lord Tywin's cause. Houses Westerling, Crakehall, Algood, Bettley, Drox and Estren have dipped their banners and surrendered to his grace. Prince Stannis has also defeated houses Swyft and Serrett. The castles along the shores of the Westerlands have fallen to Lord Stark. It won't be long before all the armies converge on Casterly Rock."
"How did the Westerlings surrender to Robert? I thought they were defeated by Eddard at the Crag?" Jon asked confusedly.
"Lord Eddard did defeat House Westerling at the Crag, but at the time, the Crag was under the command of Raynald Westerling. Lord Gawen Westerling was at Lannisport and later escaped from the city when the Dornish army breached the walls of the city. Lord Gawen later came to his grace at Crakehall to surrender in person."
"Hmm. Have you learned more about the involvement of Harrion Stark in Lannisport?" Jon Arryn asked suddenly.
Varys realised the Hand had not come to his abode bereft of an agenda.
"I see. The delegation from the Starry Sept didn't discuss the future of the High Septon alone." Varys commented, a bit troubled by the notion of the Faith getting involved.
"No, they did not." said Jon Arryn with a heavy sigh. "The Starry Sept has taken note that Weirwood trees are growing at an unprecedented pace all over Westeros, especially in King's Landing, and they've finally pieced together what happened at Dragonstone."
"Oh. We knew they were eventually going to learn the truth."
"Yes, but I had hoped they'd be distracted with the war. But now they know Stannis and Lady Selyse had publicly denounced the Seven. They've also come to the conclusion that the Great Sept of Baelor's destruction was not an unfortunate accident."
"Let me guess. The septons blame the Starks and their tree gods." Varys said, expecting something of this sort to emerge since he learned Stannis Baratheon abandoned the Faith of the Seven.
"Yes, they do. So, I ask again, Lord Varys. Is there any substance to the rumours coming from Lannisport? Was Harrion Stark involved in bringing down the city walls?"
"According to most of the rumours, yes. My little birds bring me songs of flying ships and the Black Wolf summoning lightning to do his bidding in the city." Varys replied, staring at Jon Arryn keenly, who surprisingly drained the offered drink in the cup in one go but could hardly mask the worry he was experiencing.
"I was afraid of this." Jon Arryn audibly sighed, looking far more troubled than Varys had ever seen.
"Perhaps warning Lord Stark about your concerns might avert any unforeseen events. The last thing we need is more problems to crop up while his grace is fighting a war." Varys suggested placidly.
"I have already sent a raven to Eddard."
"That's comforting to know, Lord Hand. His grace will need all his allies after the war is over. It would be detrimental to the King's peace if the largest of the Seven Kingdoms turns hostile against the rest." Varys warned.
"You are right, of course. But men of faith care not for the peace between the kingdoms. The Starry Sept, I'm afraid, is rattled by these events, and they want to respond as Andals of old have responded to the First Men." Jon Arryn mused aloud, his forehead creasing in worry.
"Perhaps it's time to reach out to Lord Hightower. More reasonable voices in Oldtown could convince the Starry Sept to not cause unnecessary problems while we are embroiled in a war." Varys suggested. "Otherwise, the Starry Sept might invite destruction to their doors. The North is not a foe they can't afford, nor can the Southern kingdoms, for that matter."
"I know." said Jon Arryn, after a moment of deliberation. "I'll be going to Oldtown to have a word with Lord Hightower. The Faith cannot be allowed to jeopardise peace in the kingdoms by any means necessary."
Varys was surprised to hear Jon Arryn so openly oppose the Faith. He thought the Lord of the Eyrie would somehow try to appease the Faith.
'Perhaps there is more to Lord Hand's wife being sent to Dragonstone.' Varys mused.
At first, Varys had thought Lady Lysa Arryn was sent to Dragonstone as a courtesy and to exchange well wishes with Lady Selyse. He felt like there was more to the story. He made a mental note to keep his spies trained on Lady Arryn's activities.
"Tell me, Lord Varys. What is this drink?" asked Jon Arryn, bringing Varys out of his musings.
"Oh, this? It's a delicacy I took a fancy. Manderly ships brought them to the city from the North."
"What's it called?" asked Jon Arryn.
"Coffee." Varys happily said, taking a sip from the steaming cup. "I had merely hoped to satiate my curiosity as word had reached me that the Braavosi loves this drink. But now… I can't start the day without a cup of hot coffee."
"I see." Jon Arryn murmured, falling silent all of a sudden.
"Is there something wrong, my lord?" Vary asked, frowning at Lord Arryn's pensive look.
"I've received ravens from White Harbour about pirates harassing their ships." said Jon Arryn breaking a long moment of silence.
"Ah, I understand." Varys nodded in understanding. "The Sistermen are making problems."
"Aye." Jon Arryn said tiredly. "The Sistermen are complicated people. Though they swore vows to my house, they rarely obeyed my orders, even at the height of the Rebellion."
"Yet, their actions worry you now." Varys prodded.
"The North worries me, Lord Varys." Jon Arryn said with a sigh. "Eddard told me the lords of the North were not happy to fight in the war. Most wanted to stay away from southern affairs."
"I don't see any trouble in that, Lord Arryn. The North has always been isolationist except on rare occasions after Aegon's Conquest." said Varys, shrugging his shoulders.
"I just have a bad feeling. Wars tend to make tempers flare, and the Northerners are already ostracised enough by the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Should the Faith make an issue with the Starks…" Jon Arryn trailed off.
Varys also felt like Lord Arryn was not entirely wrong to be concerned. The last thing he wanted was for the North to turn hostile against the entire south.
"Perhaps, the Royal Fleet could be of some aid." Varys suggested.
Jon Arryn said nothing save for a grunt. Varys watched the Lord Hand take his leave from his quarters. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back into his chair and took another greedy sip from the cup.
'The plan to tie the North closely to the cause of Aegon needs to be expedited.' Varys mused.
He wondered what Harrion Stark was doing right now. The boy had disappeared from Lannisport on his ship, and no one knew the boy's whereabouts since then.
****
Harry smirked as he stared at the rows upon rows of small enchanted steel pellets arrayed on the floor of his airship. He had at first thought to employ this particular piece of magic against the Others on the Wall. But he supposed he could test out the utility of this particular piece of magic on Blacktyde and observe its effectiveness before deploying the same on the Wall.
"Open floor panels." Harry hissed in parseltongue.
Small panels on the floor began opening up, and the neatly arrayed metal pellets fell unceremoniously from his airship. The pellets suddenly grew thin metallic wings. Turning themselves into snitches in mid-air, they flew off in different directions. More and more pellets turned into snitches and flew away from his ship until there were no more pellets left on the floor.
"Close floor panels."
On his verbal command, the floor was restored to its previous position. Turning away from the smooth wooden floor of his ship, Harry walked into a room where a large table made of Valyrian steel was waiting for him. On one end of the table stood his three students, Anya, Adela and Kyla.
"Now, watch the magic that happens." said Harry, placing his power ring against the rune of power etched on the table, charging the enchanted table with his magic. "Now, my all-seeing eye is watching Blacktyde."
Harry's declaration was followed by bright lights forming on the table. Harry grinned, watching his students gasp at the sight of a budding animated map being formed on the table.
"You asked me how I can exert my control over the Iron Islands from so far away. This is how," said Harry, nodding at the map showing the movements of every man, woman and child living on the island of Blacktyde.
"My lord. This is amazing," said Adela, her eyes gleaming with wonder.
"Magic is amazing, my apprentice. Soon, the whole world will know this truth." Harry proudly watched as the map was slowly constructed as the pellets safely landed below on the island and transmitted the information into the table thanks to the Protean charm binding the pellets to the table.
A parchment-based map like Marauder's Map was initially considered as it had a lesser chance of getting exposed. But the constraints of building up the map on charms alone made him discard the idea. Besides, he was not even confident a map like that could be replicated for the use he had in mind. The Marauder's map only had Hogwarts on its focus. Harry wanted two islands on his map. That was no easy feat to accomplish without using many runes, enchantments and charms. This left Harry to abandon a parchment-based map, and instead, an enchanted table came up as a viable replacement.
"When the sun rises on Blacktyde tomorrow, this map will be completed, and we'll begin our invasion. Get some rest, you three. Tomorrow, we'll show these Ironborn the folly of challenging Avalon's might."