In the Maiden's Tower, the easternmost tower of The Eyrie, prominent figures such as Bronze Yohn, Lord Nestor, Ser Vardis, Maester Colemon, Ser Barristan the Kingsguard, and Ser Brynden the Blackfish had gathered while the mountain wind howled outside.
The Maiden's Tower had no obstructions and offered the best view. Of course, they had not come to admire the beauty of the Vale, its lovely mountains, forests, rivers, and fields. They had come to discuss blood and fire.
The highest-level councils never had too many people. They were clashes of will among those at the top. Everyone gathered around Gendry, surrounding him like stars around the moon.
Ser Barristan was Gendry's guard. Though everyone felt the white knight was no match for the Storm, this was still the old knight's duty. Also present were Gendry's squires: Anguy, Jon Snow, Dacey Mormont, and Lothor Bren.
"My ravens are all ready," Maester Colemon said first. All of The Eyrie's ravens were kept in the great aviary. Previously, few ravens had flown out of The Eyrie, while many had flown in. Riverrun and King's Landing had repeatedly urged the Vale to send troops, but The Eyrie had remained as immovable as a mountain.
"Good. I need you to take care of two matters: the ravens, and Young Lord Robert's condition," Gendry instructed. "How is young Robert?"
"His condition has been much more stable lately, but we still need to purge the Sweetsleep flower toxins from his body. The child has improved quite a bit since gaining playmates. After this, we will gradually move him to the Gates of the Moon, as you ordered. But my lord, a frailty carried from the womb is not something a Maester can cure."
"Let nature take its course. Sunshine, warmth, and the laughter of children will help him recover and build himself up," Gendry replied. They would do everything they could for Sweetrobin, but how much the child could grow was something only the gods above could answer.
In truth, House Arryn dying out was not exactly unheard of. There was still a backup like Harry the Arse outside.
"Prince, my lords. Younghawk Harrold cannot stay with the Waynwoods forever," Lord Nestor suggested. "If a knight is raised in a woman's hands, he'll end up smelling of powder from head to toe. Our poor Sweetrobin is one example, and Lady Waynwood has children of her own besides."
Bronze Yohn nodded. Younghawk Harrold had always been spoiled. He was not entirely a playboy, but he was something of a rake. He had slept with a maid from House Waynwood and fathered a child, and he also had an unclear affair with the daughter of Gulltown's richest merchant. His status meant he would never lack women, but too much dissipation harmed a man's reputation. Brandon the Wild Wolf had also had women, but he had never gotten any of them pregnant before marriage.
"Since we want the heir to grow into a good lad the knights of the Vale will follow, I think Harry the Arse would do well at Prince Gendry's side. It would honor the friendship of our forefathers, and it would be for his own good." Ser Vardis nodded in agreement.
"You all make sense, but if we simply take Harry away, I fear Lady Anya will not be pleased." Bronze Yohn frowned. He was also a very tall man, an old warrior who had only grown tougher with age.
"All right, everyone. We will discuss Harrold Hardyng later. Maester Colemon, bring the map. The messenger ravens are about to take flight, and the war is entering a new phase," Gendry ordered, smiling as he ended the dispute.
Harry the Arse. If the young man was not truly an idiot, he should know whom to draw close to, and on whom his power and allies depended.
Maester Colemon hung a map of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros on the study wall for everyone to see.
"At present, the war hinges most on four castles," Gendry said. Then, with the scabbard of his sword, he pointed from top to bottom at Harrenhal, King's Landing, Dragonstone, and Storm's End. At present, the Lannisters controlled the Westerlands, the Riverlands corridor, and most of the Crownlands.
Harrenhal was the great gateway stronghold of the Riverlands. King's Landing was the capital. Dragonstone and Storm's End were held by the two branches of House Baratheon, and Dragonstone had its unique volcanic terrain. In truth, The Twins should also have been counted, but since he had already taken it, there was one less pass to worry about.
"If we follow the pattern of King Robert's Rebellion, The Twins are also in our hands now, and King's Landing no longer has its great fleet. Once our armies gather and we repeat the victory at The Trident, the Lannisters will be finished," Bronze Yohn said. Many of them had personally lived through the War of the Usurper and understood its course well.
"It is too late," Gendry said. "Tywin knows what happened at the Battle of The Trident. If he does not want to repeat Rhaegar's mistake, he will pull away and leave behind the Crownlands and a broken King's Landing."
The war now was completely different from what it had been more than ten years ago. Tywin had seized the tactical initiative, but he had few allies, and the Westerlands army was not the hastily assembled force Rhaegar had arrived with too late. By the time the armies of the wolf, eagle, fish, and stag were gathered, Tywin would have run. After all, the Westerlands were his foundation.
"Tywin means to flee?" Ser Vardis asked, puzzled.
"That's right." Ser Brynden nodded. "The Riverlands are now devastated, and King's Landing is a hungry, restless city. Unless Tywin is a complete fool, he will surely choose a chance to withdraw."
"We mobilize six armies. Under such heavy swords, how can the Lannisters resist?"
"Six armies?" The others were somewhat confused.
"That's right, six. These are also the places I had Maester Colemon send ravens to." Gendry pointed to the map.
"The first army is the Young Lord's northern knights, along with the forces of the Riverlands. They are currently cutting off Tywin's Westerlands supply lines and restoring their homes." Gendry pointed to Riverrun. "I hear the Kingslayer has not yet recovered from his serious wounds and is only helping hold the defenses. The Lannisters want to train new troops, but new troops need time before they can fight."
Whether Robb would cross the Golden Tooth or not was still possible either way, but with the Kingslayer there now, Gendry was not sure how risky the surprise attack plan might be. He had already warned Robb.
"The second army is the force from The Twins and the lands north of it, the new direwolf army. Roose Bolton is selecting younger, fiercer direwolves according to my requirements. Winter is coming, and the Northmen cannot be drained too badly. Later, they will have to face an even harsher war. A ten-year-long winter is a terror beyond imagination."
Bronze Yohn nodded. Speaking of it, the Vale was the region most friendly to The North and also understood the North's unique way of life. With a ten-year winter ahead, the Starks should never have joined the war in the first place.
Ser Brynden the Blackfish and the others listened with full attention. This would be the decisive battle that concerned the fate of Westeros. The Lannisters had shed no blood more than ten years ago, but this time, they would not be able to avoid the great war.
"The third army is the Vale cavalry. The Bloody Gate cannot send out too many riders, so we still need to march from Gulltown and land near the Crownlands together, somewhere such as Duskendale or Maidenpool."
"The Vale can do that," Bronze Yohn promised. The Bloody Gate was congested and difficult to pass. If the Vale wanted to send out a large army, it still had to go through Gulltown.
"The fourth army is the Crackclaws. The forces of Crackclaw Point do not need to march on great castles and cities like Harrenhal or King's Landing. They only need to raid the grain-producing lands around King's Landing, Rosby and the like."
This was a ruthless way of cutting the firewood out from under the cauldron, forcing King's Landing to erupt completely. Jon Snow listened carefully. Many plans and strategies were built entirely on strength. Gendry was far more well-rounded and powerful than Robb. Robb's mind was not that poor, but his strength was truly limited, and almost everyone around him was a brute.
"The fifth army is my uncle Great Lord Stannis's force. I advised him to besiege King's Landing, not attack it."
"Lord Stannis?" Ser Barristan asked doubtfully. "Lord Stannis is certainly a famous commander, but he and King Robert have been at odds for many years. Because of Storm's End, there has always been resentment between them."
"I think there is a chance. For this stubborn uncle of mine, I will have to write a letter with my own hand," Gendry said. As long as Stannis had not put on that crown, it meant there was still room for hesitation in his heart. He had always been angry at the injustice of his fate, but he had also remained loyal to the king.
Gendry also did not want Stannis to walk the path of the lonely traveler. Crowning himself, destroying the Seven, and kinslaying would all be weighty scandals. Gendry still needed Stannis's iron.
For now, Stannis himself was still somewhat hesitant. The main issue was that the red witch and his wife beside him were both fanatical believers in the Lord of Light. But as long as Stannis remained silent, there was still a chance to persuade him.
"But are we not going to attack King's Landing directly?" Lord Nestor asked in confusion. Whether they surrounded Tywin at Harrenhal or entered King's Landing, victory in the war would become clear.
"There is no need to rush into King's Landing," Gendry said. "What was the Mad King most obsessed with back then? Ser Barristan, you should know best."
"Wildfire." Ser Barristan nodded. "Are you saying there is still a large amount of wildfire in King's Landing?"
Bronze Yohn and the others' expressions changed as well. They naturally knew that Great Lord Rickard had been burned alive by wildfire, and that one of Lord Jon's heirs had died in the same affair.
"That's right. King's Landing has stored quite a bit of wildfire, and the progress of wildfire production has now increased greatly," Gendry explained with a nod. The acceleration of wildfire production was actually his own fault. Because of the dragon's birth, wildfire manufacturing had also begun to speed up.
"In that case, King's Landing is truly unnecessary. As long as we destroy the Lannister main force, the effect will be the same."
"A hungry, terrifying city." Ser Barristan nodded as well. Gendry's move to make the Crackclaws rise up was both ruthless and fatal. After all, more than half of King's Landing's food still came from the wealthy towns of the Crownlands.
In truth, Gendry had an even bolder, more radical idea in mind. Since someone had to taste wildfire sooner or later, if the people of Lys, Volantis, or Braavos could be baited into attacking King's Landing, the plan would be perfect. But such a poisonous scheme could only be used once. Then again, Gendry felt it was too fanciful. Why would Lys, Volantis, and the others so easily act as he wished?
"There is still the sixth route, Prince. Which force do you intend to deploy?" Bronze Yohn asked expectantly. The remaining options were Highgarden, the Iron Islands, and Dorne.
"The last route is Highgarden. Great Lord Mace should seize this final opportunity. Dorne has limited forces, and they have another mission," Gendry said. In his letter, he had warned Mace that a hundred thousand elite troops were lying in wait like tigers, ready to hunt the Lion of King's Landing together. Surely Mace was not a complete fool.
"Why not the Iron Islands?" Jon Snow could not help asking. "We have Theon in our hands. King Balon might attack the Westerlands as well, and the Iron Islands are the closest."
"There is no room to negotiate with madmen, Jon. Balon is a madman. He got his own father and two sons killed. What is Theon compared to them?" Gendry smiled faintly. "I will give Balon no special treatment. If his mind is truly rotten through, then I will give him Fire and Blood."
The others nodded as well. King Balon was an absurd, impossible figure, and the ironborn had never had much of a reputation for keeping their word.
"I will give you separate letters later, Maester Colemon," Gendry said to Colemon. Maester Colemon also had a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.
Everyone understood the plan for this campaign. On the surface, it looked entirely favorable. Wars in Westeros usually consisted of a few major battles followed by one final decisive battle, and they rarely lasted very long. Even the longest, The Dance of the Dragons, had lasted only about three years.
"None of you should be careless. Our war will be a long one," Gendry suddenly warned. Without the Long Winter, the Lannisters would quickly be destroyed in summer. But under the Long Winter, who could say whether the pace would be faster or slower?
"A long one?"
"It is not only the Lannisters and the Iron Islands. There are my enemies across the Narrow Sea as well, Lys, Volantis, even Braavos. And there is something more terrifying still. I have heard that many strange, uncanny things have appeared beyond the Wall." Gendry looked toward the north on the map. The Long Winter and the Long Night were coming, and the war was changing from low magic to high magic.
"The Wall?" A strange excitement stirred in Jon's heart. He had heard Old Nan's stories, of White Ghosts and terrifying spiders.
"My uncle also said there seems to be something strange beyond the Wall." Dacey nodded as well. The letters of Lord Commander Mormont were always sent to his sister too.
Gendry took out several of his own letters and had Maester Colemon release the ravens. Maester Colemon hurried back to his rookery, and the ravens soon rose into the sky.
The messenger ravens would fly to Riverrun, Dragonstone, Crackclaw Point, Highgarden, and The Twins, stirring up still more storms.
"Go say goodbye, Jon, to Lady Sansa Stark. After that, you will follow me back to Myr. A new war has begun."
"Yes, Prince." Jon nodded, then walked out the door. Suffering was a good teacher too. It had made Sansa much closer to her family.
As Jon left, Harry the Arse appeared at the doorway again. "Prince Gendry, I ask to become your squire."
"My standards are very strict, Harrold. The warriors at my side are the strongest," Gendry stressed to Harrold.
"Anguy is the finest marksman." Gendry pointed at Anguy, who proudly puffed out his chest. "And Jon has fine talent with the sword. Lothor is my right hand. As for Lady Dacey, I doubt you have seen her bravery on the battlefield."
Harrold, however, answered firmly, "I have seen the great gap between you and me, Prince. I am still far from the most glorious knight. I ask to follow in your footsteps." If he could not win honor on the battlefield, if he did not follow the strongest Storm, why would the proud knights of the Vale follow him?
Everyone exchanged a smile. It seemed Young Lord Harrold still had a very good head on his shoulders.
As they were talking and laughing, a lovely figure appeared again with Jon Snow. It was Sansa, the slender, graceful maiden with auburn hair. She wore a long white velvet gown adorned with countless pearls, with a fierce direwolf embroidered on it in silver thread.
"Lady Sansa," Gendry said to her.
"Prince Gendry, Jon, no, my brother said you are preparing for a new war," Sansa said, looking at the tall young man. She had to tilt her head up to see him.
"Yes." Gendry nodded.
"I pray to the gods above that you, Lord Lothor, and all the lords will surely win." Sansa smiled shyly, which only made her more charming.
"Thank you for your kind words. Good day, Lady Sansa." Gendry looked at Sansa. Her auburn hair was like flame, and she was indeed the making of a first-rate beauty. Though she could not compare to Dany, she had a charm of her own.
Behind Gendry, Harry the Arse wore a miserable expression. A wave of frustration and gloom swept over him. The pretty young lady he had wanted to win over had shown him no interest at all, yet she was a shy admirer of the Storm.
Harry the Arse was no fool. He could see the girl's shyness and the stirrings of her heart. It seemed that beneath the glory of the Storm, he was nothing more than a supporting character.
...
The ravens of The Eyrie had flown away, and the ravens of King's Landing were beginning to fly as well.
Tyrion was in a terrible mood. That girl, poor, lovely Sansa, had vanished, and the great riot in King's Landing had thrown the city into chaos.
Tyrion covered his aching, reddened cheek. That was the slap his sister had rewarded him with, after Cersei cursed him as a useless fool.
"Riots in King's Landing, the hostage missing, and the grain-producing regions also facing crisis," Tyrion reported truthfully to his father. Let his father call him an idiot. There was simply no better solution. He had tried his best to do everything well, but even the cleverest cook could not make a meal without grain.
Tyrion also urged his father to take Tommen away quickly or send him somewhere safe. He had decided to live or die with King's Landing, but the Clan had to keep a backup heir in its grasp.
"Sansa, Sansa, where has that sweet girl gone? The Riverlands, Dragonstone, or the Vale?" Tyrion's head felt as if it were about to burst. Ser Dontos had disappeared as well, and he truly could not understand the connection between the two. Perhaps Dontos was grateful to Sansa for saving him and wanted wholeheartedly to repay her. But a drunkard's abilities were limited.
"The Vale." Tyrion shuddered. He could not help thinking of the worst possible outcome. Sansa had fled to the Vale.
This was all the Storm's trick. He was hiding what he had done, hiding that he had stolen the little girl Sansa away.
The Storm's direwolf army was also bait. The Storm had never been at The Twins at all, but had secretly gone to the Vale. If that was true, then they were truly beyond saving, Tyrion thought in despair.
"My lord, the Alchemists' Guild has sent for you to go beneath the hills and examine that substance. They said you must dress especially warmly. It is terribly cold down there," Bronn said as he entered the room. "That substance" was what the pyromancers called wildfire.
"Let's go!" Tyrion gathered himself. He still had to see the wildfire.
That little green thing was the trump card he had prepared.
Once ignited, wildfire burned fiercely until it was entirely consumed. It would seep into cloth, wood, leather, and even steel, setting them ablaze as well.