The Torrentine River originates from the eastern slopes of the Red Mountains, flowing southwest until it empties into the Summer Sea. True to its name, this river is known for its swift currents; however, near High Hermitage, the river widens, causing the water to flow somewhat more gently.
As the second-largest city in the Torrentine region, after Starfall, High Hermitage is also a fief of House Dayne. The current lord of High Hermitage is Lord Palon Dayne, though his branch is rather distant from the main line of House Dayne at Starfall.
Nevertheless, upon hearing news that the main branch of House Dayne had nearly gone extinct, Palon was quick to dispatch his eldest son, Gerold Dayne, to Starfall. His ambition was clear as day.
At dawn, the castle guards had just changed shifts. The guard captain looked out over the unusually quiet streets and wondered if the townsfolk were sleeping in today.
Just then, a small convoy of carts appeared in the distance, heading straight for the castle.
"Hold it! Who are you, and what's your business here?"
Seeing the convoy approach the castle gates, the guards quickly stepped forward to intercept it.
"We're here delivering grain, sir," one of the men replied.
"Grain?" The captain eyed them with suspicion. However, when he spotted the man leading the convoy, he immediately recognized him. "Isn't this Ser Hughes Dayne, Ser Ulrick's squire?"
Hughes lowered his head in embarrassment. "I'm not a knight, sir; there's no need to call me 'Ser'..."
"Hmph, Hughes, your master died at the Eagle Isle, and you have the nerve to return?"
"I...I'm only here because Ser Gerold commanded me to deliver supplies…" Hughes replied, his shame deepening.
Falling from a squire to a mere supply runner—this guy's fate was indeed unfortunate. Then again, he'd brought it on himself. If it were the captain, he thought, he would've stayed and died alongside his master on Eagle's Nest.
The guard captain sneered but didn't make things difficult for Hughes. After all, he was still part of House Dayne, even if only a distant cousin.
After conducting a thorough inspection of the convoy, the guards found nothing suspicious and allowed them inside the castle grounds.
"Alright, go on in," the captain said, waving them forward.
Hughes expressed his thanks and led the convoy toward the inner courtyard. But as soon as they passed through the gatehouse, a loud crack sounded.
"What was that?"
"Sir, the axle snapped…"
"Fix it quickly!" the captain barked impatiently.
However, in the brief moment that his attention was diverted, the men who had been handling the grain carts suddenly scattered, sprinting out of the gatehouse and abandoning the carts where they lay.
"Hey! Aren't you fixing that cart? Why are you running?"
The guards were momentarily stunned and neglected to give chase.
As they watched the group disappear into the distance, the captain and his men began to feel something was amiss. And then, a deep rumbling reached their ears, as if the very ground itself were trembling.
The captain whipped around just in time to see a black line appearing on the western horizon, quickly expanding toward High Hermitage like a tide of dark ink!
"Attack! We're under attack!" he shouted, his voice raw with panic. "Get inside! Close the portcullis!"
It was only then that the guards realized the group they had just let in had left their carts directly under the gatehouse, clogging the entrance.
They scrambled to clear the blockade, but the enemy cavalry had already thundered toward the gates, giving them no time to clear the carts.
In desperation, the guards abandoned the carts and bolted into the castle, frantically pulling the lever to drop the portcullis.
With a heavy crash, the iron gate slammed down—only to catch on the grain carts below, leaving a gap at the bottom.
While it was wide enough for soldiers to crawl through, it wasn't nearly enough for the enemy cavalry to ride in.
The cavalry dismounted and waited patiently as the rest of their forces arrived.
Inside the castle, the guards looked out in terror at the approaching army and the partially closed gate, their faces ashen with fear.
It took them a few moments to snap out of their daze before one of them ran off, stumbling toward Palon Dayne's quarters.
"An attack?" Lord Palon's face turned pale upon hearing the report. High Hermitage's fighting men had all been dispatched to Starfall by his son Gerold. All he had left were thirty or so guards.
How could they possibly defend the castle?
"Hurry! Close the portcullis properly!" he commanded.
"But, m'lord, we can't! The carts from the grain convoy got wedged under it," the guard explained miserably. "We don't have time to move them."
"What? You idiots! You fools!"
Palon's face twisted with rage, turning a shade of sickly green.
If they had been able to secure the castle gates, he might have had some hope of holding out until his son could return with reinforcements. But now...
No, he thought. Even if the castle was going to fall, he had to get a message out!
Forcing himself to stay calm, he turned and rushed out of the room.
"M'lord! Where are you going?" a guard called after him in confusion.
Palon ignored him, heading straight for the maester's quarters. "Send a message to Starfall at once," he ordered breathlessly. "The Reachmen are attacking High Hermitage! Use your fastest raven!"
"Yes, m'lord," the maester replied, quickly scribbling a message onto a slip of parchment, binding it to a raven's leg, and setting it loose through the window.
The raven flapped its wings and took to the sky—only for a falcon to swoop down like an arrow, snatching the raven mid-air.
"Seven above!" Palon gasped, his legs giving way beneath him as he collapsed to the ground.
The maester also looked troubled, frowning in uncertainty. Was this a sign from the gods?
Still, he showed no sign of panic. As a maester, he served the castle, not the lord. If High Hermitage were to change hands, he would simply serve the new master.
That was the order of the Citadel.
Clomp, clomp, clomp.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the halls, quick and relentless, like death itself drawing near.
Finally, the Reach soldiers arrived at Palon Dayne's chambers, radiating deadly intent.
"I surrender," Palon said plainly. "I request an audience with your lord."
The soldiers didn't mistreat him and brought him directly to Samwell and the others.
"Lord Randyll, it's you," Palon said in apparent recognition, his expression suggesting that he'd expected as much.
What he didn't expect, however, was that Randyll Tarly would give him only a passing glance, saying nothing at all.
Instead, the younger man next to him, bearing a slight resemblance to Randyll, stepped forward and asked, "Viscount Palon, do you recognize this young lady?"
"Ah, you must be Ser Samwell, then?" Palon looked past the girl to fix his gaze on Samwell.
"That's right," Samwell nodded, reaching behind him to push the reluctant Natalie forward. "Now, Viscount Palon, it's your turn to answer me."
Palon shifted his gaze to Natalie—and immediately froze.
He remembered a recent letter from his son, stating that Ashara Dayne had not died all those years ago but had borne a daughter. Palon had scoffed at the claim, but seeing the girl before him, whose resemblance to Ashara was uncanny, he had to admit that his son's words might be true.
However, believing and acknowledging were two different things.
"My apologies, Ser Samwell, but I don't know this young lady," Palon said coolly.
"Oh really?" Samwell smiled slightly, as though he had anticipated this.
He glanced at Hughes Dayne behind Natalie and gave him a slight nod.
Understanding the gesture, Hughes stepped forward. "Lord Palon, this young lady is indeed Ashara Dayne's daughter, Natalie Dayne."
Palon realized what game Samwell was playing, but he stiffened his neck in defiance. "Hughes Dayne! You traitor! How dare you claim she's Lady Ashara's daughter! Lady Ashara has been dead for years!"
"No, she survived," Hughes replied seriously. "Both I and over a hundred men from Starfall saw her alive on Eagle Point."
"Impossible! You're all li—ah!"
Palon's objection was cut short by a swift slap from Samwell. "Seeing as Lord Palon seems to be unwell, Hughes Dayne will act as interim castellan of High Hermitage and manage the city's affairs. Once Lady Natalie officially inherits the title of Countess of Starfall, we'll discuss the future of the Viscounty of High Hermitage."
Palon nearly lost his composure and screamed in fury.
But looking around at the soldiers glaring menacingly at him, he wisely held his tongue.
Just wait until my son returns with the army…
Palon Dayne clenched his teeth, hatred burning in his eyes.
(End of Chapter)