In the mist of Oldtown, the Redwyne fleet, flying golden quartered banners and blue-purple grape banners, sailed down Whispering Bay.
Carrying the surrendered Ironborn with them, the Redwyne fleet moved west and north along the coast.
The first great fleet set out first, bound for the Iron Islands. The Iron Islands were already a toothless Kraken, and Redwyne's deployment was like using a butcher's cleaver to slaughter a chicken.
Morosh led the Twin Cities fleet out by the Dornish sea route, waiting for the right wind to return to Myr.
The other armies were helping clean up Oldtown and reorganize military affairs, so they would leave later.
Oberyn Martell was stationed in his tent in Oldtown. The Dornish had always kept to themselves, so Oberyn's camp seemed somewhat secluded.
For thousands of years, the two sides had been mortal enemies, and even the Red Viper had to be mindful of the Dornish presence in Oldtown.
The Dornish had burned the outskirts of Oldtown and laid siege to the city. They had also burned Highgarden, killed King Garth X Gardener when he was over ninety, and set the Oakenseat aflame.
More recently, the Red Viper had wounded Highgarden's heir, Willas Tyrell, in a joust, leaving him lame.
The Red Viper's tent was easy to recognize. A shining shield stood before the entrance.
The round steel shield had been polished until it dazzled the eye, bearing the spear-through-the-sun sigil cast from red gold, yellow gold, white gold, and brass.
The Red Viper poured himself a cup of fine wine, then thought back on the course of the Battle of Oldtown.
"The child of three. One is Storm, the power of storm blood. One is Dragonlord, the Dragonrider. One is Flame, the Pyromancer," the Red Viper murmured to himself. "So Euron, that terrifying monster, was still only a loser."
"I'm here, Father."
Before leaving Oldtown, "Sphinx" Sarella Shade quietly slipped into the Red Viper's tent.
Even after changing back into women's clothes, the girl still had skin as dark as teak, a pointed chin, pointed nose, pointed forehead, thick short black curls, and agate-colored eyes.
She was slender and strikingly handsome.
"Is your game over?" the Red Viper asked his daughter.
"I have thought it through. The Citadel has been turned upside down, and the Order of the Mind Knights has volunteered to go north. Once we apprentices make our choices, we will see the Citadel's new fate. The Citadel is moving north."
"Their game is over, then. Hightower and the Citadel's dark little game." Oberyn sneered. "When I was at the Citadel, I already felt those old scholars were not as honorable as they looked. Just look at Pycelle, the man they pushed into King's Landing."
"I have seen a monster these past few days, Father," Sarella Sand Snake said.
"What kind of monster, child?" Oberyn Martell asked, looking at his daughter.
"A monster made from charm, power, strength, magic, and desire all fused together."
"Unfortunately, this monster was born from Westeros's own soil. We have Robert to thank for that, and even more Tywin and Cersei. They shaped this monster with their own hands. Robert should have had a trueborn child with that stupid woman..." Oberyn drank from his cup.
Dornish summer red.
The monster they spoke of was the king, the power that now ruled the entire realm.
"Blood and fire, glory and vengeance, marriage and bastards."
"Then is this a blessing or a curse?" Sarella Shade asked quietly. "In Oldtown, I saw that war. A warrior who could stand beside gods, and royal power sweeping away everything before it."
"I don't know. I only know we should follow the tide of the age and stand with the winner. King Gendry is the one riding that tide, and Crow's Eye's head was harder than ours," Oberyn said.
Anyone who had witnessed the Battle of Oldtown, who had seen "Storm" Gendry and "Crow's Eye" Euron fight bloodily across Oldtown, who had seen Dragons and Krakens tear at each other, who had seen Skinchanger and Pyromancer clash, would feel a deep helplessness.
This was a war between different worlds, different levels of existence.
Sarella nodded. "An age of gods and heroes. An age unlike any before."
"In any case, you saw it too. Gendry's kingdom, and his bright knightly heart. If it had been that Crow's Eye, that vicious Kraken like an evil god, I doubt I would be in the mood to drink right now," the Red Viper said lightly.
"Mm."
"The chess game between me and your uncle is ending. Before long, I will see the lion's head, so we have decided to start a new game."
"What kind of game?"
"A game of peace, beginning with the marriage between Arianne Martell and Willas Tyrell," the Red Viper said. "After Hightower's decline, the Rose's position has actually become a little more secure."
After all, House Tyrell had begun as stewards to House Gardener, and many noble houses outranked them in blood. The Rowans, the Peakes, the Florents.
House Florent had always claimed their bloodline was closer to House Gardener than that of their liege, House Tyrell.
But there was no doubt that the strongest house in The Reach had been House Hightower, the Kings of the Tower.
"Perhaps we were not necessarily right before." Doran and the Red Viper had thought too much and done too little.
"We longed for the sweetness of revenge, but refused to step onto the road of risk. Perhaps your uncle was right. He knew Dorne could not bleed anymore. He would rather have peace, even if it meant being cursed by those people. As for me, I have lived more freely than he has."
"It was not your fault," Sarella said. "Courage cannot replace numbers. Dorne has the smallest population among the Seven Kingdoms. When the Young Dragonlord wrote that war record, he deliberately exaggerated the size of our armies, making the Dornish seem more numerous than they truly were so he could boast of his great achievements. We simply went along with it so our enemies would fear us.
"But in truth, Father, you know how things really are. The defeat of those ten thousand spearmen was already a painful lesson for Dorne."
"But we thought too much and did too little," Oberyn said. He poured himself another cup of wine, then silently recited the names in his heart.
"Viserys, Daenerys..."
To be honest, Prince Doran and Oberyn had been almost as if they were idle, afraid of the Iron Throne and the Spider's informants.
They hesitated again and again, but in the end, they had given the Beggar King and his sister almost no help. No men, no weapons, no money, no supplies. They had simply allowed the siblings to fall into exile and poverty.
When Viserys died, he did not even know he had a betrothed in Dorne, and Arianne had known nothing either.
The two brothers had considered things for too long, and in the end, everything had slipped away like running water.
Instead, it was the charging "Stag" who proved that brave men changed the world first.
The two brothers of Doran had waited for the blood oranges to ripen, but they did not know at what moment the oranges would be ripe.
That was the sorrow of Dorne, a small land with too few people. They could see an opportunity, but could not seize it.
"Arianne..." Sarella sounded puzzled. "I only know Uncle found many old men for her."
Sarella thought that might also have been a smokescreen, but she did not understand her uncle's true intentions.
"You are clever. Perhaps you can guess the real reason. You are the smartest of the Sand Snakes, so we must decide to begin again," the Red Viper said firmly.
"That old woman is shrewd. House Tyrell of Highgarden has marriage ties all across The Reach, so they need to find a more glorious marriage outside it for their heir. Arianne would be very suitable."
"Will Willas agree?" the Sand Snake asked.
"Willas will think it through. I believe Arianne has also learned how to become a bride of Highgarden. She had considered Willas Tyrell before, but back then, Doran refused to send her to Highgarden to meet him. Arianne objected and tried to elope with Tyene's help... In the end, I caught them at Vaith and brought them back. As for Willas, aside from us, it would be difficult for him to marry the daughter of any other Great Lord."
Sarella Sand Snake nodded. Even with Willas's noble status, finding a suitable daughter of a Great Lord for a lame man would still be difficult.
First, there were too few suitable women of marriageable age. House Arryn was practically on the verge of extinction.
Second, girls from normal Great Lord houses would not be forced upon a lame man, not even for the Rose.
"In fact, they are quite well matched," the Red Viper said.
Arianne's private life had been far too complicated in the past. She would never catch the king's eye.
Even if the Dornish were passionate by nature, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or even one of the king's companions, could never be someone of that style.
And Willas, as it happened, was Highgarden's lame heir.
"A stained woman and a lame man?" Sarella understood Arianne's feelings. Arianne had rebelled against her fate more than once.
Prince Doran's heir had once considered several choices, including Renly Baratheon, Edmure Tully, and Willas Tyrell. There were even more young Dornishmen who wanted her, but their standing was too low.
"Arianne is your uncle Doran's heir, so she has to bear more. As for you girls, life will be much easier."
"I understand, Father."
Oberyn had once taught his bastard daughters freedom, but the heir to Dorne was different from her cousins.
"Remember what I told you. If you want to marry, then marry. If you do not want to marry, seek your own pleasures. There is little enough happiness in this world as it is. But remember one thing. Choose carefully. If you get tangled up with some fool or brute, do not come to me for help. I gave you the tools to solve such problems yourselves."
"But Arianne, infatuated with the king, has no chance. Your sister Tyene may still have one." The Red Viper glanced at his glass. "The women around the king are all unmatched beauties."
Gendry did not seem interested in Arianne. Perhaps he disliked a life so tangled and disorderly, and Arianne was rather short besides.
The king liked women too, but he cared more about looks and substance. He was not like Robert, who never refused flesh and had no standards at all.
"You may not be at that age yet." The Red Viper glanced at his scholarly daughter. "I feel you love books more than romance."
"Maybe I will go looking for love too," Sarella said.
"That is your freedom. You can choose anyone. The king, a knight, even a mercenary. But you will have to deal with them yourself. If the king takes a liking to you, that will be your own ability."
"That will have to wait until the Citadel's affairs are settled."
"Go on with your game, Sarella. War is my game. I will go into the lion's den and kill the lion, though perhaps all I will get is a dead lion. Tywin will not compromise."
"But even so, I want to see Tywin's head. All I want is a dead Tywin."
The Red Viper tasted the fine wine in his cup, the power of blood.
"And after victory? After your revenge succeeds?"
"Victory. Revenge."
Those words left the Red Viper slow and dazed. For many years, revenge had been what drove him forward. It was his fire.
He had never truly imagined the day vengeance would arrive, because though the Red Viper longed for it, he also understood the distance between desire and reality.
"I have treated this battle as the finest one of my life. For many years, all my thoughts have been fixed on avenging your aunt and her children. But now, just as I am about to taste vengeance, I suddenly feel a little lost. I do not know what value my life will hold afterward. Perhaps I will also choose to go north and test the fate of mankind."
"But why are you sighing again, Father?" Sarella looked at Oberyn.
"With a son like this, Robert can hardly be called dead. But look at your uncle's children. They truly make one worry..."
Sarella fell silent. Prince Doran's family affairs were indeed a mess.
A wife who had left him, a rebellious eldest daughter, and a second son, Quentyn Martell, who had been sent away. Only his youngest son, Trystane Martell, was not yet a source of headaches.
When Doran sent Quentyn to Yronwood as a foster son, he and his wife had a fierce quarrel over it, and Mellario returned to Norvos.
People said that marrying Mellario of Norvos was the only irrational thing Doran had ever done in his life, yet it brought the Prince endless trouble.
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