5th Moon 135AD
Distant flashes of a prick with gold hair and emerald eyes clawing at his neck as his face turned purple and blood flowed out of his nose battered played within my mind far longer than they had any right to be.
It wasn't helped by another flash of memory of a young king, victor of many battles brought low as the Rains played all around him. His had fought and killed a fair number of people, but it had not been enough. It fell as well. The young conqueror staggered about, the body of his mutilated wife just some distance away from him before a man walked up and embraced him with a knife to the heart. 'The Lannisters sent their regards.'
Another memory came, this time it was strange. Less that I had seen it on moving pictures but more of the I had read it as passages of words jumped up at me. It wasn't a wedding, but it was in the celebration of a wedding that had just passed.
A jolly fat man, a cold man with cruel eyes and a mad man with insanity on his mind. They were having pie. There was something about that pie, but whatever that was wrong with the pie didn't come to mind.
It didn't matter. I understood what the memories were telling me. I had to be a fool to not notice the dots.
Weddings.
Why was it always the weddings? Mine had gone off without a hitch, but I guess that had been an oddity by itself.
I wasn't going to have any sort of bullshit happening around on my watch. Especially at my daughter's wedding. No way. Not happening.
So that's why I happened to find myself sharing a room with Lyam Mallister and Willem Darklyn. I needed both of them for this.
"So, we have a Royce coming for my daughter's wedding." I said slowly, trying to push away the dark thoughts from my mind. I didn't need to deal with this nonsense. "I suspect that they will try and see if I can offer support to Ronnel."
"And you don't plan to." Willem Darklyn said, pushing a lock of hair back that had drifted to the front of his face. He nodded. "Smart."
Lyam frowned though. "Ronnel is now a good-son to King Torrhen though. Not supporting Ronnel might see our relations with the north cooling some."
"By any substantial degree?" I asked, curious.
"I wouldn't think so, the marriage between Lyanne Stark and Ronnel Arryn is only three years old. The relationship between our two kingdoms has been developed for more years than that."
Willem Darklyn had a wry smirk on his lips as he shook his head. "Positive thinking, ser, but blood is thicker than water. King Torrhen would surely put the claim of his own daughter and good-son over the relations with a kingdom he has no truly meaningful ties to."
"Meaningful?" The look on Lyam's face was the sort of look someone who had just heard a lot of nonsense would have. "The north would not have bloomed as much as it had if not for us. We know this, King Torrhen knows this and he is intelligent enough that if our relations do sour, at worst, he would reduce the quota of ironwood we can buy rather than cut off relations completely."
"Blood is thicker than water, ser. And the marriage between Ronnel and Lyanne has proven itself to be quite fruitful already. Ronnel two sons who are both half Stark. Would you try not to protect their rights as their grandfather?"
So, what I'm getting from this was that Torrhen was somehow trying to make me an interested party into the goings on of the Vale? He wanted to protect the rights of his grandchildren and increase his influence in the south.
Good for him and all and I would admit, somehow making his daughters match was a coup on him. I just really did not care at all to be introduced as another player into the game that was already happening in the Vale.
This brought on something that also made me question about why we should even be brought into the argument about the Vale at all.
"Ronnel has his supporters which include the Royces, Redfords, Coldwaters along with other houses which also include the Starks. A royal family with a kingdom of their own." I said, noting of all the supporters I knew the King of the Vale counted amongst his supporters. "So, I have to ask, why do they need us? He's already doing well for himself. By the sheer breadth of influence and numbers the sort of houses that are supporting Ronnel can call upon, he has no need to seek support from us. In fact, who is even supporting Jonos anyway?" I asked, levelling a look on Lyam.
My cousin just smiled sheepishly as he began to list of the houses. "The Corbrays, the houses of the Sisters, the Graftons, Donninger, Egen, Hersy, Hardyng, Waynwood, Hunter, Lynderly, Malcom..."
I held up a hand to stop him. "Let me just ask this, in the Vale alone, who has more houses supporting him?"
Lyam could only give me a grimace. "Jonos."
I closed my eyes as I felt a headache start to sneak up on me. "Why? He's the second son."
Willem answered that question. "Apparently, he is very charismatic."
"I'm sure there's more to that story than simply because he is very good at talking to people." I said, with an eyebrow raised.
"Well, there's also the fact the brothers are quite different in truth. Ronnel prefers to spent his time with learned men, singers and the likes." The Darklyn scion began thoughtfully. "Whilst Jonos spends his time with knights and the common soldier, drinking, eating and laughing with them. He also happens to be the one that has consistently driven the mountain tribes deeper and deeper into the mountains whilst claiming the heads of their noted and infamous champions."
I swear, something about what Willem had just told me sounded oddly familiar and I just couldn't place it. It sounded familiar enough to rouse some memories from the dark, depths of my head but did nothing to tell me what about them was so familiar in the first place.
Just that it felt familiar.
Lyam looked at him aghast. "Is that the reason we have been seeing more raids by the tribesmen on our side of the mountains?" All Willem did was nod. "Well, that explains a few things then."
"It's not like the mountan tribes have been causing too much trouble anyway." After the first few raids, we now had patrols on our side of the mountains and the raids quickly dropped in number. "So, what you are telling me is that Ronnel is not the type of king the Valemen want and Jonos suits the sort of king they want?"
Willem nodded. "Martial, pious, noble and honourable. To them, he might very well be the Warrior on earth."
Meat heads. All of them.
"That would explain why Ronnel is seeking allies from outside his kingdom then." Lyam frowned as he stroked his chin. "Though I doubt his marriage to Lyanne Stark would have helped matters. She's of the old gods and the Vale is not, even if many of their houses can follow their lineage to before the coming of the Andals and the Seven. That must have pushed away quite a few of his supporters."
"It did." Willem said with a sigh. "The Templetons came with the Andals. They protested heavily against the match."
"So, they have joined with Jonos?" I asked.
"Doubtful," Lyam answered. "They might declare themselves neutral or join the faction of the Dowager Queen. She might very well need the influence and steel the Templetons can bring about." He finished with a wry laugh.
The queen's faction was the weakest one. Mostly because she had no true great houses supporting her and the only house of note that did support her was the Arryns of Gulltown. The Arryns that all the other branches of the Arryns looked down on for the fact they were a very rich and well to do merchant house.
Despite that, she had been able to keep the peace but Sharra Arryn was aging and she might very well soon come to the end of her life and the war that had been brewing might very well explode with the coming of her death.
Which had absolutely nothing to do with me. I wasn't about to get myself involved in that mess.
Torrhen stuck himself into, he might as well sort it out himself.
"What of the Pynes, Boggs and Crabbs?" I asked, turning my mind to the rest of my guests.
Lyam shrugged for an answer and I didn't blame him. His knowledge on those houses was about the same as mine. Between jack and shit.
So, we turned out attention to the spymaster who gave a sort-off shrug as he tried his best to answer. "They are fighting a war."
"When are they never fighting against themselves?" Lyam asked, almost amused.
Willem chuckled some as he nodded. "True. I don't really have much on them since I have to rely on the trade ships that make port in Dyre Den. All I know is that the Pynes, Boggs and Crabbs are fighting against the Brunes. From what has been said in the drinking sinks, the Brunes are winning handily."
"So, they want support?" Lyam asked, an eyebrow raised. "Strange. I don't think they have ever required support from outside their own lands before."
Willem just shrugged his shoulders to that.
Meeting with my foreign spymaster and chief diplomat came to a wind before I moved onto the next of my duties as king that required for me to sit upon my throne. I had heard stories of the various thrones of my fellow kings in Westeros.
The Seastone Chair that had been thrown into the sea by the Lannisters and Gardeners. The Golden Throne of the Lannisters that was said to be made of pure gold with crouched lions for arm rest with a great lion that looked down at the petitioners as they made approached the throne. The lost Oakenseat of the Gardeners that they could never come to replace. The unyielding and unmoving Storm Throne of the Durrandons. The Winter Throne of the Starks that was said to be made of weirwood, white as bone with veins of red blood.
Mine really paled in comparison then. It was just a simple throne, nothing fancy about it, perhaps for the leaping trouts that adorned it. The same could be said for my crown. Just a simple gold band that rested easily enough on my head with some engraving of trouts. A trident here and there.
Ascetic? Yes.
I was well aware of the image PR of going all out with the paraphanelia, but that sort of money would be better spent elsewhere. I didn't have the time for that and anyway, the image my ascetic throne and crown portrayed was the sort image that I would want to spread in the first place.
That I cared nothing for extravagance and only for the betterment of the realm.
I made sure to remind people of that as much as possible.
Zhoe sat on a throne of her own beside me, though mine was raised just a little higher than hers. Ciri and Alfie sat on either side of us. Henry and Triss were still a little too young for this, but they were here, at the side listening, watching and learning.
I didn't plan to do this whole king thing for the entirety of my life.
My eldest sat with the poise and proper grace of both prince and princesses of the realm. Their backs straight and chins held high. Zhoe and Ciri wore gowns of similar colours though Zhoe's accented the colours of the family she was born into. Ciri was all Tully whilst her eyes slowly roamed over the courties that had assembled in the throne room. Alfie though, was dressed in a white shirt of the softest Lyseni silk and sleeveless red vest of Darklyn wool finishing off his attire with black breeches and the most well-made leather boots.
Like his sister, his eyes roamed the throne room, but more leisurely than that of his sister, taking a moment to note the attendance of some of his personal companions, Edward Mallister, Andrew Goodbrook and Garth Varner.
It somewhat amused me that Alfie had been able to befriend quiet well a hostage of one of my newer vassals from the Reach reparations. Though my telling of Theon and Robb's friendship then souring should do more than enough to warn him to not overly trust him for too important a things if it involves the rest of his exiled family or the reach.
They had been at this for a while now, listening to the petitions of various people. Welcoming groups of lords and ladies that had come to stay in court for the foreseeable future. Presenting medals and rewards for soldiers that had done deeds of note against the mountain tribesmen in the east as they raided our lands. The most notable being a Sergeant Forrest Wexley who had felled a chieftain in battle.
We had been doing this for a while now, and the last of the petitioners that we were too see where coming up.
The court steward stepped forth to announce the last of the petitioners. "Presenting Master Theoden Attavos, Head of the Attavos Trading Guild."
Theoden Attavos was a finely dressed young man, I'd say he was lounging about in his middle twenties. His name spoke of origins beyond that of Westeros, true but half of his blood happened to be that the Riverlands. His father had been a tradesman that had come to the Riverlands to make himself a fortune from Braavos.
Considering that the Attavos' held warehouses in Maidenpool and Duskendale, they were probably doing quite well for themselves.
"Greetings Master Attavos, I welcome you to my court," I said pleasantly as I looked down at the young man who held himself straight. "Speak to me of what you require of your king and I will do my best to help."
"Your Grace," He bowed at me and my family. "I seek to make a venture that would not enrich my guild, but that of the realm as well. And I seek your help to make it so."
"A venture?" Ciri asked, interested. "Your guild is no few means, Master Attavos. What help can the crown offer that you can't acquire yourself?"
Theoden looked at the princess with reverence. "I seek to promote a trading mission to the far east, beyond the Bone Mountains. What you say is true, my guild is of no little means, but such a venture is even beyond us."
To be honest, I already knew why he was here. Yes, he wanted to make a trade mission to the other side of the world, well to far east Essos to the likes of Yi Ti, but that sort of journey was treacherous. Especially considering the pirates and other dangers that lied between here and there.
I think I've mentioned this before, but krakens were a thing here.
An actual thing.
He could have hired sellsails, but I don't think he trusted them as much as the proven captains and sailors of loyalty that sailed underneath my banners.
"You require ships for protection from pirates that could sail between here and the far east." Alfie was saying, nodding in understanding. "Understandable. The venture you speak off will neither be easy or safe, but the riches that it could bring would be considered well worth the risk."
"Very much so," I said speaking up. "You shall have your ships Master Attavos but I also ask of you to learn as much of the lands beyond the Bone Mountains. It is never so bad to learn of the distant lands beyond our reach."
Why this was important to me was simple, Yi Ti was Imperial China. Imperial China was leagues above everyone else during its time in terms of civilisation. I'm sure they were leagues above the Targaryen Freehold as well. Therefore I wanted all their shinies. Well, as many shinies that my men could learn and get. Nothing that could very well see them arrested and not come back and share the shinies that they had learned with the rest of growing population of learned men.
Attavos just happened to come at a convenient time and since he was hefting up most of the cost of the journey, I was like yeah, why not?
"Thank you, Your Grace. Your trust in this venture shall be returned tenfold."
I would hope so.
Ever since I started taking away some of their dissatisfied acolytes and half-maesters, the sort of people the actual maesters used as research assistants or lackeys, they had been less willing to share some of their books with me. Especially the books that delved into more advanced knowledge of a subject.
I was sure the Hightowers were also exerting their influence as well to show their dislike of me. The merchants did complain of unfavourable treatment from the Oldtown Citywatch when they plied their wares in Oldtown.
Grateful bunch the Hightowers. I take care of the prince married to one of their own that had been captured starving to death and hallucinating from a lack of sleep, you'd think they would be a little bit more grateful.
And no, I was most definitely not forgetting that the cause of the prince hallucinating and starved half to death was my fault. It was war. And I wanted to win.
Lord Benjamin Buckwell said I should complain to Highgarden for the treatment of our merchants. Problem was, Highgarden didn't really like me all that much after taking some of their lands and quite a bit of their gold.
Therefore, my little victory had cost me quite a bit in areas I didn't expect to cost me on. Some of my lords had also sent notices that the replacements for the aged maesters that had died or were now useless due to their old age had still to see them.
…
Actually, I can use this.
I can so very much use this.
I should send the Hightowers and Gardeners a thank you note and some flowers for being petty bastards. They might just be helping me even more to help with my goal of centralising power in the Riverlands.
And here I thought I had a problem.