King's Landing, Stokeworth Castle.
Recently, half the grain in the Red Keep had come from the lands of Lord Gyles and Lady Tanda. Rosby and Stokeworth Castle lay north of the royal city and had not yet been touched by war.
But tonight, everything would change. Ser Boggs led his cavalry in a reckless rush into Stokeworth village, while another band of horsemen moved toward Rosby.
Neither castle was large. Both stood amid fertile farmland, with forests nearby where the nobles could hunt.
"Thump!"
"Thump!"
Under cover of night, the Crackclaws quickly climbed over the castle's low walls, then aimed their three-shot crossbows at the enemy. Several guards of Stokeworth Castle tried to resist, but they were soon knocked to the ground. Long peace, combined with the need to escort shipments to King's Landing, had left the castle's defenses extremely lax. Most of the guards had no will to fight.
"Surrender and live!"
"Surrender and live!"
The vassal towns of the Crownlands were almost all very wealthy, making good profit from selling grain and vegetables or from dock transport. Relatively speaking, however, their armed forces were weak. Their trade was prosperous, but they did not have many good knights.
"What is happening?" Lady Falyse Stokeworth cried in shock from her chamber in Stokeworth Castle. She saw firelight, and the cold gleam of armor. Falyse wore green, with the sigil of a lamb upon it.
"Stop them!" Falyse screamed.
"Fool, it is too late," her husband, Ser Balman Byrch, said as he urged her to prepare to flee.
In his youth, Ser Balman had been counted among the handsomest knights in the Seven Kingdoms. Now only his pale yellow beard still held some trace of that handsomeness. He was old and tottering, his wavy blond hair faded, his belly thrust out so far that even a thick coat could not hide it.
Balman and Falyse scrambled in panic, but it was clear there was nowhere to run. The castle gates were opened, and more soldiers poured in one after another. The house banner and the king's banner were thrown to the ground, one showing a white lamb holding a golden cup on green, the other a lion and stag facing one another.
"What do you want? I am a loyal servant of the king," Ser Balman wailed as black-armored spearmen surrounded the pair and escorted them to the square.
"Which king? That little brat Joffrey in King's Landing?"
Ser Balman did not answer. Instead, he raised his longsword.
"Hahaha, but we have never bowed to lions." Ser Boggs looked at him, a longsword in his own hand.
Balman roared and lunged at Ser Boggs. Boggs did not retreat. His sword met the attack, the blade flashing quickly, until Balman was beaten to the ground in moments and bound by the spearmen. Balman had once been a knight, but years of comfort had left him with little skill for battle. Falyse was too frightened to speak and was tied up as well.
"Take all the grain and gold dragons. Take the Maester and the ledgers. Take these two prisoners too."
"Yes."
"What about your relatives?" Ser Boggs asked Falyse.
"My mother and sister are in King's Landing. I had one aunt who married the Lord of Rosby, but she died long ago," Falyse said with a nod.
"We have no love for House Lannister. My father was once commander of the City Watch, and later died in Tywin's massacre of King's Landing," Falyse explained.
"Well said, my lady. Then let me see your resolve. You will come with us at once, along with the grain, cattle, horses, sheep, and the game from your hunts. Do not leave the Red Keep so much as a blade of grass," Ser Boggs said.
"Yes!"
"Yes! We are loyal to the Storm as well." Falyse and her husband were ashen-faced, but they understood that they dared not provoke these fierce Crackclaws. The Crackclaws had always been unruly.
As for her mother and sister, Falyse thought again. If they were killed by the king in King's Landing, the inheritance would fall to her. With that, much of her unease faded. After all, this was the king's son fighting his way back. He would not be as brutal as the lions.
The black-armored cavalry carried torches into the villagers' homes. They did not kill anyone, nor did they molest women. They left behind some gold dragons and took the grain the villagers had stored, leaving only enough to feed the people themselves.
The villagers of Stokeworth stared at one another. They had been glad to avoid the flames of war, but had never imagined an attack would come so soon.
The riders moved quickly, laden with bags and bundles. The villagers' carts were requisitioned too, to keep them from serving King's Landing. Some villagers, thinking of the Red Keep's possible revenge, gritted their teeth and fled with them, while others scattered into the wilderness.
By the next morning, the Red Keep would find only an emptied Rosby and Stokeworth Castle.
...
Highgarden of the Reach stood on a hill, overlooking the Mander below.
Built from white marble, Highgarden was beautiful, a city of green, often compared with The Eyrie for beauty. But The Eyrie was far too small.
Within its walls, Highgarden was like a green paradise. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and gardens, pools, and artificial waterfalls adorned the whole castle. Stone carvings, fountains, and marble columns filled the castle, while grapes and roses decorated the walls and sculptures. Ancient buildings were covered in vines. From Highgarden's towers, one could look out over the estates and fields for leagues around, where the countryside was full of flowers and golden roses.
In Highgarden's garden of golden roses, inside a small pavilion beside a white fountain, Great Lord Mace Tyrell sat in a tall seat carved with roses on its back. In his hand was a letter from The Eyrie, though the sender was the Storm.
Beside Great Lord Mace were his two sons, Ser Willas and his younger brother, "the Valiant" Garlan. All three wore green velvet robes trimmed with sable. The only one missing was Great Lord Mace's beloved youngest son, Loras, who was still in the Stormlands.
On another elegant seat sat Mace's mother, the Queen of Thorns, and his daughter Margaery. Behind the Queen of Thorns stood two guards in gilded half-helms and green robes edged in gold thread, with Highgarden's golden rose embroidered on their chests. Both men were seven feet tall, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, their bodies all muscle. They had the same strong jaws, the same deep blue eyes, and the same thick red beards. They were twin guards.
"We have received letters from every king and every faction, but the Storm's letter must be treated with caution," Great Lord Mace said.
House Tyrell had few choices. They had a feud with Stannis, and House Florent, the family of Stannis's wife, had always insisted on opposing the Tyrells' right to Highgarden. As for King's Landing, the rose had had no place in the original structure of power, so House Tyrell had wanted to build a new court of its own. They simply had not expected the situation to change so quickly, or the Storm to rise so suddenly.
"That is because the Storm has attacked the hardest," the Queen of Thorns said.
"What is this supposed to mean? Raising more than a hundred thousand troops and inviting me to hunt the lion in the Kingswood? What arrogance." Mace pursed his lips.
"He is threatening you, fool," the Queen of Thorns said, looking at her son. Though he was Great Lord of Highgarden, he had never made his name in war, and that had always been a sore point for Great Lord Mace.
"That bastard Littlefinger truly had gall."
"Because of this, the lords of the Vale will never forgive the Lannisters."
"The Storm's advance has been too fast, so fast it dazzles the eyes. He saved the Riverlands, entered The Twins, then used the winter wolves as bait while breaking through the Bloody Gate in reverse," Ser Garlan said in a low voice. "If he had failed to take the Vale, the northern army and the lions would still have had a battle to fight."
Ser Garlan Tyrell was five years older than Ser Loras the Knight of Flowers, and the two looked very much alike. Compared with his more famous younger brother, Garlan was taller, bearded, thicker in the chest, and broader in the shoulders. Though he was handsome as well, he did not possess Ser Loras's astonishing beauty.
"And Crackclaw Point as well. I fear King's Landing's food route is about to have serious trouble. There were riots before because of the grain shortage. Later, it will be even worse," Ser Willas added.
"And what of Renly? We had prepared a hundred thousand troops to support him and thought everything was as firm as stone. We were going to raise Margaery to the position of queen. Who would have thought..." Great Lord Mace sighed. Renly and Stannis advanced as slowly as glaciers, while the Storm advanced like lightning.
"You are too kind, Father. But I do not think the earlier situation suited us to enter too quickly. Renly's lords loved him because he looked like a king, but now they have a better choice," Margaery said with a smile. She was very beautiful, with soft brown curls, brown eyes, and a graceful figure.
"Listen to how well my sweetling speaks. Renly is grand, charming, and clean from his baths. He knows how to dress, how to smile, and how to bathe, and from that he concludes he ought to be king. No doubt the Baratheons always have some absurd notions. I think they inherited that from their Targaryen blood. Do not forget, he has always only been a copy of Robert, and he will never learn to fight like Robert. The Stormlands men are not blind. They simply had no choice. They dislike the lion, and they dislike Stannis as well." Lady Olenna sniffed.
"That is no problem. When King's Landing is liberated, I can go test the Storm's tone."
"I would be better suited to go then," Garlan volunteered.
"I want to go too, Brother," Margaery said happily, her doe-like eyes shining.
The Queen of Thorns frowned. A beautiful, handsome, undefeated knight was every girl's dream. But her Margaery had to let reason stand above desire. That was necessary for power.
"Is it possible that Tywin might bring Lys and Volantis into the field?" Great Lord Mace asked. "After all, because of the freeing of slaves, this touches the economic lifeblood of the eastern continent. Our gods reject such evil, but this is the slave masters' livelihood. They will not let it go easily."
"If they were coming, they would have come already. But Magisters always need to hold meetings before they go to war. Whether in Lys or Volantis, the Lord Governors need an agreed opinion. Otherwise, by the time our war is over, we still will not have seen their fleets."
"That is good."
"Now is the time for us to choose. King's Landing looks difficult to hold. Tywin's twenty-five thousand men are the main strength of the Westerlands, but even they cannot hold back the enemy's pressure. Besides, the Storm has not lost a battle yet and carries the honor of being undefeated," Ser Willas said.
"How does he do it?" Mace asked, puzzled.
"I think it is a kind of talent. The problem is that he is skilled in every tactic. Raids, encirclement, lures, even head-on decisive battles," Ser Garlan explained. "When I met him before, his strength, speed, and endurance were already astonishing. In fighting with shield and armor, victory belongs to the one with the best stamina. But I did not expect even the Kingslayer to lose so completely. They say a group of red cloaks were killed by the Storm, and only then did the Kingslayer escape by luck. As for The Eyrie, those proud knights were no match for him either."
"I imagine the old lion must be in great pain now," the Queen of Thorns added.
"Then the Storm also needs our help," Great Lord Mace said. "Otherwise, how will he feed a hungry King's Landing?"
"Why not send out part of the army first and continue advancing?" Ser Willas suggested.
"What about your brother? Loras is still in the Stormlands."
"I doubt the Storm will blame us over a child. Loras is still young. He is good at knocking people off horses with a wooden lance, but what does he know of war?" the Queen of Thorns said with a snort. "Still, riding the stag is easy, getting down is hard. We must remain cautious, or we will be kneeling and kowtowing to others forever."
"Grandmother is right. Besides, we have no fleet and cannot press Storm's End, and Redwyne's heir is still being held in King's Landing," Ser Willas said.
"That is a good idea," Ser Garlan said as well.
"Then it is settled. Aside from ourselves, we must also worry about the Iron Islands and the Dornish." Garlan thought for a moment.
"I will handle them," Willas said. "I can write to Prince Oberyn. As for the Kraken, we will strengthen the defenses around the Shield Islands."
"The Kraken has lost two sons. He will not be so mad as to throw away the third. As for the Dornish, they will be happy to see the lion embarrassed," the Queen of Thorns said.
"Those Dornish should behave themselves." At the mention of the Dornish, the Great Lord's thick neck flushed dark red. Dorne and Highgarden were old enemies. For centuries, the two had fought along the border, between the mountains and the Marches, with raids going back and forth without a day of peace. Since Dorne had been joined to the Seven Kingdoms, the old hatred had eased somewhat. But in recent years, the Prince of Dorne, the Red Viper, had crippled Highgarden's young heir, Willas, in a tourney, and resentment had risen again.
Yet Ser Willas and the Red Viper actually had a good relationship. They were even pen pals.
"Then I will pass this on to Mathis Rowan and Randyll Tarly, Paxter Redwyne, and the Hightowers of Oldtown."
"Your father-in-law likely will not bother with you. The children have not seen their grandfather for some years either. Redwyne will not send troops, with his son in another's hands. As for Rowan and Tarly, I think both of them are very eager," the Queen of Thorns commented.
"I am used to it, but Baelor should reply," Mace thought for a moment, then answered.
Lord Leyton Hightower, the Old Man of Oldtown, head of House Hightower, Voice of Oldtown, Lord of the Port, Lord of the Hightower, Protector of the Citadel, and Beacon of the South. He had vanished into the tower long ago, leaving his heir Baelor to manage affairs.