Chapter 9: Chapter 7: Interlude III: Lord Yronwood
Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, 5 months after the sack of Kings Landing
As he made his way towards the palace to attend the gathering, Lord Anders Yronwood, Lord and head of House Yronwood, Warden of the Stoneway, paused to look at the outskirts of the city walls where a sprawling complex of tents, more loosely resembling a city had sprung up over the course of the last few weeks. He could hear the sounds of a thousand blacksmiths toiling away, the clashing sounds of hammers and anvils, the sizzling sound of hard forged steel being dipped in water, the smoke rising from a thousand forges rising into the sky majestically. It was a magnificent sight.
The last few weeks had been a veritable storm of events one after the other, and he had nearly allowed himself to be swept away in a euphoric daze by the tide of events that had occurred after Prince Quentyn's majestic speech a few weeks prior.
The young heir of Dorne had been an enigma in the mind of the formidable lord, ever since 'the speech', as the people of Sunspear had taken to calling the event. He chuckled, perhaps, just perhaps, this young man might be the one who could cast of the shackles imposed upon them by the cursed Targaryen's.
"Never would I have believed that a few words could rouse the spirit of an entire kingdom, but it seems even I can be proven wrong," he chuckled, as he made his way forward. His son Cletus, who had been following dutifully behind him asked, "What do you think Jon Arryn will make of the sprawling complex outside the walls?"
"It will unsettle him no doubt, which was the purpose for which it was set up by the young prince. When he sees a thousand blacksmiths, toiling day and night to forge weapons for the army of Dorne, he will learn that the men of Dorne are not to be trifled with, and that we are not scared of his wards," his father grunted.
"And If he fails to learn?"
"He will be made to," was the curt reply of his father, and that was the end of it.
Soon, the both of them made their way to the main council halls of the palace and noticed that most of the leadership of Dorne was present. House Allyrion, House Blackmont, House Dayne, House Fowler, House Gargalen, House Jordayne, House Manwoody, House Uller, House Wyll, and even more. The full majesty of Dorne was present in force. Jon Arryn would not have an easy day today, he chuckled in mirth, even as Lady Myriah, and Prince Oberyn approached and gestured to all the lords to take their place.
As he moved to his assigned seat, he could not help but remember the scene when 3 months ago, it was at this very place that Prince Quentyn had spoken to this assembly and had laid the foundations of changing Dorne forever.
3 months ago
He had ridden as fast as he could, once the raven had been received. Regardless of the history between their houses, House Yronwood would stay by the side of their liege lords in this time of crisis. What had happened to Princess Elia and her children were nothing short of a slap to the faces of every man, woman and child of Dorne. Would perhaps Dorne finally mobilize its full strength? He certainly hoped so, this was not an insult that could be easily cast aside.
Soon, they approached Sunspear, and reached the entrance of the Water Gardens. It would seem that their arrival was expected. Stewards immediately came forward to collect their horses, and also offered them refreshments even as they were guided to the council chambers. Once they entered, he noticed that almost every single lord in Dorne had been summoned. He noticed Princess Myriah, deep in discussion with her son, Prince Oberyn, while young Prince Quentyn was calmly observing the situation from the sidelines.
Soon, once the last visitor was seated, the doors to the chamber were shut, as Lady Myriah descended to the middle of the chambers and turned to address the assembled lords.
"My name is Myriah Martell, reigning princess of Dorne," the old, dignified ruler of the Dornish Kingdom spoke in a soft tone, even as she looked at them all, and spoke with a heavy tone, even as she tried to control her emotions. "And yet today, I stand here before all of you, not as your ruler, but as a mother, to honor her murdered daughter, and to honor her murdered grandchildren, publicly and for the last time," her voice choked with emotion even as tears glistened at the end of her eyes. The assembled men of Dorne, looked at her with trepidation, and many of them could not muster the courage to look her in the eye, much to their shame.
"My daughter was a good woman. She gave no thought to her own well-being. Only to the well-being of others. Dorne was her first and greatest love. Yet despite that, she endured more than any woman could have ever dared to bear. Married to a prince who humiliated her, shamed her in front of the world, shamed her children, and cast her away for a northern harlot. Kept imprisoned by a mad king, who cared not for her, and yet she never complained. And then, she was butchered by the lapdogs of that whoreson Tywin Lannister. Alone, trapped by enemies on all sides, betrayed by everyone, she suffered in ways that no woman should suffer. I ask of all you brave men, is this what is now meant to be the fate of the women of Dorne? Tywin Lannister did all this, because in his eyes, we are worth less than the dirt that lies beneath his feet. Mongrels, he calls us, whoremongers and debauched weaklings he terms us, and he says this because he believes Dorne does not have the strength to chastise him. I ask you men, is he right?" she asked in a whisper as she looked at all the assembled men, who were clenching their fists, their faces red with anger, with their eyes bloodshot as she looked at them.
"Today it is my daughter, tomorrow it could be yours. Today, I ask of all of you, by all that you hold good and dear to honor your oaths to House Martell, to stand with us. Summon your banners, summon all the men of Dorne, to avenge the deaths of not just my daughter and her children, but for all your countrymen who died at the trident for the whims of a madman. Now, I ask you, who stands with me?"
Lord Yronwood stood up, his passion inflamed as he looked at the elderly ruler of his kingdom, "House Yronwood will stand with you!" he declared as he stood up and bowed his head in agreement.
Then it was as if the floodgates of a dam had been burst open, as one after the other, the lords stood up and proclaimed their assent.
"House Dayne agrees!"
"House Uller stands with you!"
"So does House Fowler!"
"As does House Gargalen!"
"House Wyl will answer!"
Soon, the entirety of the lords was up on their feet, proclaiming their oaths and their assent, at which Lady Myriah raised her hands, and soon all became silent again.
"So be it, my lords, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Maester," she intoned as she turned to look at the maester of Sunspear who was standing at the side, "Send out the ravens!"
The maester nodded and moved out of the hall. That night, the skies above Dorne were covered with dark wings carrying dark words, with the intent of mustering the full might of Dorne.
Lord Yronwood stood up, "My lady, we all grieve with you, but still, we must not let ourselves be carried away by emotion alone. We will call our banners, but how are we to proceed? Robert Baratheon will turn his attention to us soon enough, and with him comes Eddard Stark as well. What shall be our next move?" he asked, as Myriah nodded, as if she was expecting this question.
"My lords, I have no doubts that once the Stag King consolidates his hold on the Crownlands, he will turn to subjugating us, as well as Dragonstone, where the last of the Targaryen's remain," she continued, as the lords of Dorne nodded, agreeing with her words.
"Then, would you have us declare for Viserys Targaryen, my lady?" Lord Dayne asked of her, as the assembly became restless.
"No," the tone of Myriah Martell was crisp and curt. "House Martell and by association, Dorne, will no longer swear allegiance to House Targaryen. We will not fight for a house that abused our trust, our loyalty and our allegiance and repaid it with treachery and ingratitude," she concluded, while many of the lords stiffened as the words of the princess of Dorne began to veer into uncharted territory.
"Surely, you do not mean to submit to Robert Baratheon?" Lord Uller asked aghast, as he looked at her, at which Myriah's eyes became bloodshot even as she trembled in rage.
"House Martell will never bow to a whoremongering butcher like Robert Baratheon. I have not forgotten that Robert stood over the corpses of my daughter and her children and laughed in satisfaction. I will not and cannot bow to such a man, one who is bereft of all honor and lacks all qualities required in a king," she concluded, while Anders Yronwood acknowledged it with a curt nod.
"But that still does not answer our question, if we will not declare for Viserys Targaryen or for Robert Baratheon, then what are we supposed to do?"
"Dorne will revert back to being an independent kingdom as it was, before Daeron Targaryen shackled us to the Iron Throne through the bonds of marriage. We no longer bow to the Iron throne, nor do we recognize its authority," the cool voice of Quentyn Martell cut through the chamber with an icy clarity, as Lord Yronwood looked at the young prince with a dumbfounded look on his face, as did every single one of the assembled lords.
"My prince!" Lord Trebor Jordayne, head of House Jordayne stood up, "what you speak of is something that all of us would cherish dearly, but one which is not possible. The rebels will not allow the Iron throne to fracture, their legitimacy depends upon it."
"And even though all of us are willing to lay our lives to avenge Princess Elia, the fact of the matter is we are outnumbered. We lack the strength to contest against them by force of arms," Lord Harmen Uller, head of house Uller spoke up as other lords began to nod to his words.
"Aye, what we now need is a plan to deal with this situation," Lord Dayne nodded in assent, as all the lords began to voice their opinion.
"We have a plan, my lords," Myriah announced, at which all the lords looked at her in surprise. The old ruler of Dorne continued as she looked at them all, "What we need is time, time that we will trick the Rebellion into giving to us. It will take at least two months for Robert Baratheon to consolidate his hold on the Crownlands, after which, he will send most likely either Jon Arryn or Hoster Tully to negotiate with us. Which will again take them another two months. All in all, it will take at least four to five months before a representative of the new regime appears before us. We will make use of that time to secure ourselves and our independence," she finished, while all the lords were looking at her with a surprise, and in some cases, calculative look on their faces.
"Please explain the plan in detail, my lady," Lord Dayne replied, as Myriah began to pace around.
"We will lull the Rebellion into a false sense of security," she replied, "firstly, our army comprised off all the banners, shall march through the prince's pass, and take over Starpike castle. I cannot emphasize this enough. If we have this castle, we can permanently blockade one of the two major entrances by land to Dorne, and no army, no matter how strong can pass into Dorne. So, that is what we will do. To prevent the Rebellion from guessing our true motive, we will have all of you remain here in Sunspear and send out the entire army under a commander who no one will expect. That commander will make his way through the pass and take Starpike, while we will await the emissary from Kings Landing."
"And who will this commander be?" Lord Harmen Uller asked her as the eyes of all the lords looked at their liege, with apprehension.
"That would be me," Quentyn replied in a soft tone, while all the lords looked at him in surprise and in some cases, outright shock.
"My prince! This is not a time for japes! You are the only heir of the main line of House Martell! It is unconscionable to even think of risking you in such a manner!" Lord Dayne protested with an almost desperate tone as most of the lords looked at him in surprise.
"I thank you for your kind words, Lord Dayne, but, I assure you, I do not make this suggestion lightly," Quentyn replied after giving a curt nod to the old lord.
"As my grandmother has said, we must lull the Rebellion into a sense of false security, and we must move quickly. We must send the army under the command of someone they will never expect and at the same time, one they will not consider a threat. Sending one of you fine lords present here might be construed as a threat by the Rebellion but sending the might of Dorne under the command of a young, untested boy like me will make them think twice. They will underestimate us, because they will think me a green boy, who is only playing at being a general, and as one who has no idea of what he is doing. It is within our best interests to let them believe in that charade for as long as possible, for that will give us the time to reorganize our armies, and to train them into an exacting standard, wherein they will be capable of standing up to even the famed armies of the North and the Stormlands."
All the lords became silent as they gazed at the young prince, who seemed at ease with nary a concern on his face despite the dire situation their lands faced and began to feel apprehensive at the nonchalant way through which the young prince spoke of dealing with the Rebellion in such an assured manner.
"My lady," Lord Yronwood addressed the princess of Dorne with an inscrutable look on his face, "Was it the young prince who advised you to aim for independence for the Iron throne?" he asked in a gruff voice even as he looked at his monarch.
"Yes," was the firm and resolute reply.
Immediately, all the lords began to whisper and murmur amongst each other, and began to cast furtive looks at Quentyn while Lord Yronwood again spoke "And am I to assume that it was the young prince who came up with the strategy to deal with the Rebellion as well?"
"Yes," this time the reply came from Oberyn, who as usual smiled haughtily while standing at the side of his mother.
"Then, may I ask the young prince as to what drove him to the decision of declaring for independence? And on how he intends to achieve it?"
"Because if we do not, then in twenty years, Dorne as we know it will disappear and be replaced by a mockery of it created by Tywin Lannister and his descendants," came the cool and curt reply of the heir of Dorne, which rocked all the lords back to their heels.
"Make no mistake, my lords, Tywin Lannister has now set his sights firmly on us and the remnants of those who were once loyal to the Targaryen's. Above all else, he has desired to place his own bloodline on the Iron Throne. Twice, he tried to attempt it with Aerys. First, he offered his daughter to the accursed Rhaegar, in the hope that twenty years of his loyal service as hand of the king would be rewarded with a royal marriage, but he was rebuffed. Then, he attempted again by offering his daughter to Viserys, with an extravagant dowry, hoping that where loyalty and friendship failed to persuade Aerys, gold might do it instead. Again, he failed, and then he simply wiped out the remaining Targaryen's once the Rebellion defeated Rhaegar. The reason why he specifically targeted Rhaegar's family, and my aunt and her children in particular, was to ensure that there were no claimants remaining for the throne. He will not make the same mistake twice. If my guess is correct, he will ensure that Lyanna Stark is murdered, so that Robert Baratheon can marry his daughter Cersei."
"That is insane! Tywin is not foolish enough to earn the ire of one as dangerous as Eddard Stark! Hell, Robert would kill him himself if he even dares to think of touching that girl. The old lion is not nearly foolish enough to do something as risky as that," Lord Uller protested, while all the other lords voiced their own assent to the point raised by Lord Uller.
"No, but the old lion is too crafty for that," Oberyn replied from the sidelines, "Our spies have reported that Gerion Lannister is on his way to Braavos, specifically to meet the house of black and white. You all can infer what that means," he concluded, while grim looks came upon the faces of all lords present in the hall.
"The faceless men! He is going to hire them to kill Lyanna Stark, or that is what you suspect," Lord Fowler spoke with a harsh tone as Oberyn nodded. "There is no reason for Gerion Lannister to go to Braavos in such a perilous time, this is the most reasonable conclusion we can come to."
"So, you can see how the mind of the old lion works, my lords," Quentyn smoothly interjected, "Once Lyanna Stark is dead, he will offer his daughter to Robert, and then in twenty years, his grandchildren will be ready to inherit the Iron Throne. To ensure a lasting legacy for his family, he will turn his attention towards the remnants of the Loyalists to ensure that they pose no threat to his descendants. Already the Crownlands have been gutted by Robert Baratheon, who in his hatred for the followers of Rhaegar has nearly wiped out all the ruling houses of the Crownlands. They will slowly but surely, choke Dorne, by means of punitive taxes, by restricting trade and travel, and then slowly and surely, they will begin the process of replacing all the ruling houses of Dorne by creating new houses through promoting second and third sons of ruling houses in the Stormlands and Westerlands, men who have no prospects in their homelands to ensure that they remain loyal to the throne. By any pretext, be it of treachery or through outright murder, they will slowly but surely chip away Dorne's nobility piece by piece and replace it with those who are loyal to them. They cannot afford not to," Quentyn concluded with a grim tone, as all the lords of Dorne listened to those words with apprehension and a somber silence descended upon the hall.
"It certainly seems very plausible," Lord Dayne agreed with a sigh.
"Aye, the young prince is right," Lord Gargalen replied while slowly all the lords began to nod in agreement.
"Even if we were to sue for peace, which we will not, they would never have accepted it. We would always be treated with suspicion and derisiveness and looked down by them. We would be treated as second-class citizens and slaves at worst. They would again turn on us as their own doubts and fears would not allow them to trust us in any case," Myriah Martell concluded as everyone nodded in assent.
"So, how are we to proceed then?" Lord Yronwood asked Quentyn who began to pace around.
"We will set out twenty days from now to the mountain ranges near Starpike and begin assembling and training our armies there; and we are fortunate because soon something else will happen that will ensure that the Rebellion will be sufficiently distracted from dealing with us," Quentyn smiled ferally, while the Lords looked at him in surprise.
"I have received news from my spies that the Ironborn will soon move, and we must make use of the confusion that arises because of that," Quentyn concluded, while most of the lords immediately erupted in shock.
"We must immediately prepare to repel them!"
"Our fleets must be made ready!"
"Those damn vultures will not find us an easy prey!"
"Calm down," Quentyn spoke sharply, and all the lords slowly controlled themselves and looked at their prince, who suddenly seemed quite imposing. "The Ironborn will not yet move for another three months, they still need to prepare their fleets and provision them, and, if I am correct, they will wait for the Rebellion's forces to become complacent before they attack. As of now, the armies of the Rebellion will not disperse until they subjugate us, but it will be five months at least before they can make a move on us. Therefore, if they attack now, the Rebellion which is high on morale, and is still blooded on the field will respond quickly if the Ironborn attack. But, in three months, the situation will be different. The Rebellion will be complacent and will have lost their edge. Thinking that we will surrender to their overwhelming might, they will become lazy and over confident and let down their guard. That is when the Ironborn will strike, and we will use the confusion sown by their attack to our own advantage."
"I see, an ambitious plan," Lord Harwood spoke out, while other lords nodded.
"You wish to make use of the Ironborn attacks to mask our movements," Lord Dayne replied with a shrewd look upon his face, as Quentyn nodded.
"Correct," he continued, "The Ironborn will attack the North, The Westerlands and The Riverlands, there are no other feasible targets for them. The armies of all these lands are still in the Crownlands, and their homelands are weakly defended. The Vale is a mountainous terrain, and assaulting it is of no benefit to the Ironborn. Likewise, the Stormlands possess the most turbulent seas in the world, and the Ironborn would lose their fleet for no gain if they venture there. The Reach, while offering rich prize is too well defended. Randyll Tarly and Paxter Redwyne will see to that. We on the other hand are too far for them to travel to, and the effort to reach Dorne itself is taxing to them and leaves their supply train and provisions vulnerable. So, we have nothing to fear," Quentyn concluded with a confident tone while all the lords looked at the fifteen-year-old boy with awe and a bit of shock.
"I see, so you are waiting for their attacks to make your own move," Lord Yronwood spoke out, and there was a look of apprehension on his face, as if he had just gained some insight which had escaped everyone else.
"Exactly," Quentyn replied, "We will move out to attack Starpike as soon as we receive the notice of the Ironborn fleets sailing out. We must ensure that our attacks coincide with each other as much as possible. This will make everyone believe that we have allied ourselves with the Ironborn and distract them. We must do everything in our power to ensure that the rest of the world believes that Dorne and Pyke are together even though it is not the case. If they believe it, then they will move accordingly on a flawed assumption that the Dornish and the Ironborn are working together and will plan accordingly. It will force them to divide their forces, and at the very least the lords of Westerlands and the Riverlands will exert enough pressure on their lords to return home so that they can defend their lands. If Hoster Tully and Tywin Lannister refuse, they will face dissent from their vassals and this will erode the cohesion of their armies, and their confidence will be broken, as the minds of their soldiers will be consumed with worry for their loved ones and for their home, and they will fight half-heartedly which will be advantageous to us. On the other hand, if they take their armies and return to their homelands, that will again reduce the strength of the Rebellion's forces, which is to our benefit. Either way, we gain a decisive advantage."
"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!" Lord Gargalen exclaimed, as a few other lords nodded in assent.
"A most comprehensive and thorough strategy, my prince," Lord Harwood also agreed.
"But, what of the Reach? Even if the Ironborn do not go against them, we will still need to be prepared for them," Lord Yronwood pointed out, at which Quentyn pointed out to a map of Westeros, that was hanging at the wall on the east side of the room.
"Lord Yronwood brings out an excellent point. As I said, it will be three months, before the Ironborn set out. We will use that time to train our forces diligently. The Reach has always boasted of superior manpower, so we will deal with them with superior quality. We will train our new soldiers extensively in new formations, tactics, and equip them with weapons and armor of such quality that it will give them a decisive advantage over the levies of the Reach. We will also reorganize the army and set up a corps of leaders who are capable of leading the men and promote such men into office. It will be the first professional army in Westeros in which capable men of merit will be placed in command."
Murmurs of assent and looks of appreciation began to appear upon the faces of the Lord's as they took in the words of the young prince.
"The battle against the Reach will be the baptism of our new army. As I said, we will make our way to Starpike after the Ironborn attack. However, we will ensure that we set out after the news of these attacks spread. Based on what I know of Mace Tyrell, once he learns of the Ironborn attacks, he will send out Tarly and Redwyne to the borders of the Reach to prepare against possible attacks from the Ironborn. Once those two have set out, we will attack. Tarly and Lord Hightower are the only capable generals in the Reach. With Tarly and the main army of the Reach already sent to guard against the possibility of an Ironborn attack, Mace Tyrell will be forced to raise fresh levies to send them against us. Fresh levies, who will be untrained, lack cohesion and will be poorly equipped against our overwhelmingly superior force. With me in the command, he will gamble that a young and untested commander like me cannot be a threat and will send the second levy against us, which will most likely be commanded by Hightower. But regardless of how capable the general is, if his army is weak, he cannot win, and thus Hightower will lose against us, which will again give pause to House Tyrell."
"Quite a gamble, my prince, you are putting too much stock on Mace Tyrell's behavior. Are you sure he will take the gamble?" Lord Fowler pointed out to which Quentyn nodded as he began to pace around.
"He will take it due to his arrogance. And once we defeat the second levy, the Reach will be paralyzed. They will not recall Tarly and Redwyne, because that will leave their backs vulnerable to the Ironborn, and it will leave us free to focus on the forces of the Rebellion. We will take Starpike and remain there and fortify the castle and the surrounding area and will not move any further. The Rebellion and the Reach will wait for us to make a move to respond accordingly, but we will not. Mistakenly believing that we are allied with the Ironborn, they will divide their forces, which will allow us to consolidate our gains, and face them on more practical terms. Now that you have the gist of our plan, can I count on your support my lords?"
He was met with an exulting roar from most of the lords whose faces were now flush with hope and looked jubilant. He smiled and bowed to them in thanks, while his grandmother and uncle watched with pride etched on their faces.
Shaking his head at the memories, Lord Anders made his way in towards the castle halls, and waited for Jon Arryn to arrive. This forthcoming meeting was going to change the face of Westeros. He could feel it in his bones. He could not wait anymore. History would change today, and he would be a part of it. Today was the day when Dorne would roar out to the heavens in defiance, and the world would be forced to hear it. No more, no less.
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