Chapter 181: The Kingswood Brotherhood
Prince Rhaegar Targaryen's hunting camp stood near the banks of the Blackwater Rush, the river roaring as the sounds of men and activity filled the air.
Rhaegar was not one for excessive extravagance, so the material of his tent was no different from that of an ordinary soldier—though it was larger and more imposing. At its entrance stood two banners bearing the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen on a red field. Now that he had been knighted, he could also design his own personal sigil, but for now he still used the royal banner. Like stars surrounding the moon, the tents of knights and nobles clustered around his own.
Outside each tent hung shields and banners displaying noble sigils—the crescent falcon of House Arryn among them. The Kingsguard used pure white. Most numerous were the banners of Rhaegar's Dragon Guards: variations of the three-headed dragon, along with personal insignias.
Before the feast began, the dragons returned from hunting.
They circled overhead before dropping their kills—wild boar, deer, and even a rare wild aurochs—into the open space by the river. The meat they no longer wanted would be cooked for the men, sometimes even seared by dragonfire.
The crowds that had gathered earlier were dispersing, still talking about the spectacle. Many had made good coin selling fish and water to the hunting party.
The great boar Rhaegar had slain was set upon a massive spit. Cooks rubbed it with herbs and butter, preparing it to be roasted until crisp and fragrant. Long tables and benches were laid out, covered with bread, fruit, and strawberries.
Everything was of the highest quality.
The wine included chilled Dornish red and Arbor gold. Beets came from across the Narrow Sea, and fruits from every corner of Westeros. The feast featured game hunted that day—boar, pheasant, duck—as well as fish purchased from local fishermen at inflated prices.
Rhaegar knew hunting was expensive—but necessary. Without such displays, both nobles and commoners would complain. The real burden, however, came from maintaining a navy. Ships, sailors, and trained marines drained coin faster than anything else.
Rhaegar sat at the head of the table.
He had not changed into formal attire. Instead, he wore a simple, short-sleeved tunic—light and practical. The fabric was fine, but the design plain. A dark circlet held back his silver-gold hair, and a silver three-headed dragon was embroidered on his chest. Even so, his presence alone commanded attention.
Such clothing had become fashionable in King's Landing. What began among the Dragon Guards had spread to sailors, hunters, and even merchants and minor nobles.
To Rhaegar's right sat his martial companions:
Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard, Ser Joffrey Arryn, and other senior Dragon Guard officers, along with his squires—Myles Mooton, Jon Connington, and young Jaime Lannister.
These men came from varied backgrounds: merchant families, minor nobility, and even a few commoners. It was a diverse but capable force.
To his left sat the Crownlands lords:
Lord Denys Darklyn was gone, leaving Duskendale now under new leadership—House Rykker. Nearby sat Lord Gyles Rosby, frail and coughing, and Lady Tanda Stokeworth, a plain widow with two notoriously unimpressive daughters.
Also present were representatives from Houses Harte, Hogg, Buckwell, and Staunton, along with envoys from House Velaryon of Driftmark and House Celtigar of Claw Isle.
Rhaegar noted the contrast: warriors on one side, wealthy but unimpressive nobles on the other.
The Crownlands were prosperous but lacked strong martial leaders. That made them ideal for central control—but also a potential weakness in wartime.
Then there was the most unusual group.
At a lower table sat a ragged band of youths—poorly dressed and clearly out of place among the nobility.
These were Wenda's companions.
Many knights looked down on them, though none dared speak openly against the prince's guests.
Some assumed the girl—Wenda—was merely a passing interest of Rhaegar's.
But Rhaegar saw something else entirely.
"These are my companions," Wenda said. "We are brothers and sisters of the forest."
Among them were:
Lucas, the future Smiling Knight, gaunt and wild-eyed
Wenda the White Fawn, tall and striking
Big Belly Ben, a large and powerful man
Ulmer, a skilled archer
Longneck Oswyn, a rough and dangerous swordsman
For now, they were nobodies. But Rhaegar knew what they could become.
"Is this all of them?" Rhaegar asked.
"Yes, Your Highness," Wenda replied after a pause.
Rhaegar said nothing—but he knew one key figure was missing.
Simon Toyne.
The true leader of what would become the Kingswood Brotherhood.
House Toyne had once defied the Iron Throne and paid dearly for it. Their name still carried the stain of treason.
"Begin," Rhaegar said.
Servants brought wine and dishes in succession: salads, soups, roasted fish baked in clay, poultry, sausages, and steaks.
The feast began.
Three groups sat beneath the same banners:
The Dragon Guards—his military strength.
The Crownlands lords—his political foundation.
And the forest youths—his future irregular force.
Rhaegar raised his cup.
If properly guided, the Kingswood's people could become scouts, skirmishers, and defenders of the realm.
He considered his next move carefully.
Granting controlled rights—logging and hunting—would win loyalty. It would reduce poaching and unrest.
Those willing could continue their lives in the forest.
Others could join his forces.
Some among them—especially the archers—were too valuable to ignore.
If handled correctly, the Kingswood Brotherhood would not become outlaws.
They would become his.
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