"There are far too many Lannisters in King's Landing. Robert will soon realize this after his foster father's sudden death. On the surface, he'll pretend to scold Tarth for deliberately stirring chaos across the Seven Kingdoms, while secretly requesting aid from the North. We can make use of him—lure Eddard Stark south, then tear away all pretenses."
As Tywin spoke, the wolf banner and the trout banner on the map were removed one after another.
"Once Eddard Stark is placed under house arrest, if the North or the Riverlands show even the slightest movement, we'll cut off a piece of the Wolf King's flesh to cow the pack. Only the Reach remains—once we secure an alliance with the Reach, Dorne will be forced to suppress its hatred."
"After that, Robert will also be poisoned to death. Then the Stormlands, which would have the pretext to crusade against the Westerlands, will fall into civil strife between Renly and Stannis. Not to mention Tarth Island, burning with wild ambition, watching from the sidelines!"
Renly and Stannis being at odds was common knowledge. Naturally, Tywin intended to exploit this to the fullest.
"So a six-kingdom coalition isn't such a big deal after all! There's far too much room for manipulation. Other houses will choose whoever they believe to be the winning side and join the fray. In the end, it'll be nothing more than another War of the Usurper!"
Kevan finally relaxed completely. It seemed his elder brother had long since devised the perfect counterstrategy.
"Then… what were you worrying about just now?"
Tywin did not answer him. Instead, he asked, "What is House Tarth's house words?"
"Uh—!"
Kevan couldn't answer at all. Who would care about some tiny island in the Narrow Sea, or the house words of a minor noble family living on it?
"Just like how you don't know House Tarth's words, our understanding of Tarth Island—its situation, its strength—has remained frozen at five years ago! All information on the island is currently sealed off. All we know comes from rumors drifting in from the sea!"
"We don't know how strong the enemy is. We don't know their goal. The Stormlands? The Iron Throne? Baratheon or Lannister? Or even the Seven Kingdoms themselves!"
"No—perhaps it's the Narrow Sea? Or perhaps even Essos across the water?"
Tywin muttered guess after guess to himself, his gaze returning to the map as he sank into deep confusion.
"This is what you once said, my lord—that enemies hidden in the shadows will eventually be exposed, but those who appear to be in the open, or whose strength cannot be clearly seen, deserve even greater caution."
Kevan followed along, a thoughtful expression on his face, gaining a deeper appreciation for his brother's truths.
"No!" Tywin shook his head, casting off those tangled thoughts, and revealed a proud, cunning smile.
"What strength Tarth possesses, what it wants, even whether it sends letters to insult us—all of that is irrelevant to House Lannister!"
He continued coldly, "The fact that they privately sent a raven to us instead of reporting to their liege lord proves their disloyalty to House Baratheon!"
"And as for the other nobles—including the Small Council and the Citadel—who are all eager to watch the spectacle of the Lannisters striking Tarth, they are nothing more than a passing breeze to us."
"Uh… my lord, please forgive my dull mind, but I truly don't understand what you mean."
Kevan even raised a hand and knocked on his own head. They had been insulted so openly by Tarth—yet not striking back was one thing. Saying it didn't matter at all?
Had his brilliant elder brother's mind been blown away by too much sea wind?
"House Tarth has no conflict with us beyond the interests of Lannisport. That means sending us a letter of insult was an impulsive, reckless act. And reckless people cannot fully control Tarth Island without leaving a single crack!"
Tywin analyzed calmly. His proud son was already acting recklessly in King's Landing; he hoped his brother could learn more strategy to help support the family.
"They want to provoke us—force us into making an irrational response. Perhaps Tarth has already laid a trap!"
Kevan immediately followed the line of thought, working his brain hard to keep up.
"That's right. Our only option would be to strike Tarth with our fleet. And Tarth may well possess some hidden card that can play a decisive role in a naval battle."
Just then, his eyes fell on one of the three remaining banners on the map—the golden spear piercing a red sun, the banner of House Martell of Dorne.
"Or perhaps they've allied with Dorne—or even both!"
During the War of the Usurper,
the Lannisters' loyal hound, Gregor Clegane—the Mountain—raped and murdered Princess Elia of Dorne and smashed her children to death. Such inhuman atrocities had left Dorne with an undying hatred toward House Lannister!
If Tarth were on good terms with House Martell, they would certainly invite Dorne to secretly join the war and strike at the Lannister fleet.
Tywin revealed a satisfied smile.
"The Small Council and the Citadel dare not risk the fleets of Dragonstone and the Arbor vanishing once more into the Narrow Sea! What they want to see is a proud House Lannister, dissatisfied, taking the initiative to strike Tarth!"
Kevan stepped up to the map.
"But a true lion will never allow itself to be manipulated—nor will it allow itself to become an actor on someone else's stage!"
"The Iron Islands!"
He pointed firmly at the cluster of islands beside the Westerlands.
"The key lies with the Iron Islands! And it's very likely that Tarth's true target is the Iron Islands as well!"
Why else would the two strongest fleets of the Seven Kingdoms refuse to take the risk? Aside from the lurking Iron Islands, there were also the pirates of the Stepstones acting as a check.
Yet in Tarth's letter, they clearly stated they would launch a military action and seize the Stepstones.
That meant the only force capable of making the Master of Ships hesitate was the Iron Islands—their Iron Fleet far surpassed the royal fleet and was the strongest in all of Westeros!
Six years ago, when Balon rebelled, if not for the Iron Fleet being trapped by terrain at the Battle of Fair Isle and largely burned in a single engagement, Robert would never have been able to land on the Iron Islands and force Balon to submit.
Once Stannis confirmed that the Iron Islands were also entangled in war and unable to land in Westeros, he would immediately lead his forces to attack the now-empty Tarth Island.
"So, my lord," Kevan said solemnly, "are we to declare war on the Iron Islands?"
Tywin smiled deeply, a crafty glint at the corner of his lips.
"No. It will be the Iron Islands rebelling once more and attacking the Riverlands. Only then will we send troops to aid the Riverlands."
"Not to help House Tully? What do you mean by that?"
"I need our new fleet to be fully prepared. I've already arranged with Balon to put on a little play—while simultaneously weakening the Riverlands' capacity for war!"
"Boom! Bang—!"
As the two spoke, the great iron window was torn open by a fierce sea wind. A massive gust surged into the hall, instantly snuffing out the candles and plunging the chamber into deep darkness.
"You see—no matter how you try to cover him up or block him, the wind will always find its way in."
With his hands behind his back, Tywin walked to the window. By moonlight, he looked down upon the countless pinpricks of light across Casterly Rock.
"Jon Arryn will die within a year at most. After taking Eddard Stark, Robert must also die! The Westerlands have little more than a year to prepare for war!"
"Yes, my lord!" Kevan nodded firmly. "I swear to you—when the time comes, the lion's roar will shatter every enemy's soul!"
A look of approval appeared in Tywin's green eyes. Praise the Seven—at least Kevan, as his brother, was more than qualified. House Lannister would also need its own Hand of the King.
"My lord, why keep this worthless letter?"
As Kevan spoke, he casually lifted the iron paperweight—only for countless scraps of paper to be swept up by the sea wind, fluttering through the air like snow!
"Bang!"
Tywin slammed the iron window shut in one motion and barked angrily, "What are you doing?!"
"My apologies, my lord! The paper glue had dried!" Kevan said with remorse, then asked in confusion, "My lord… is this letter still of use?"
"Lannister always pays its debts!" Tywin glared at him fiercely as he replied.
Littlefinger and Varys might be able to discover that Garedun was running House Tarth—but how could Tywin not know?
To be mocked so brazenly by the descendant of a minor noble house, while being powerless to strike back and annihilate the enemy as a warning to all—
His heart was filled with boundless resentment and humiliation. And yet, an ominous premonition lingered deep within him: that House Lannister might never be able to collect this debt from Tarth.
"Generation after generation—never forget!"
"This letter shall remain as a warning! One day, the family will surely exact its revenge!"
"Gather every last scrap! Have Tyrion piece them together one by one for me! He doesn't leave the dungeon until he's finished!"
Kevan froze, then couldn't help but smile bitterly, feeling pity for his nephew locked away in the dungeons.
"Yes!"
But having just angered Tywin with his mistake, he dared not speak a word in Tyrion's defense.
...
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(End Chapter)