Dragon Song of the Red Mountains (End of Volume)

At Summerfield, the once-empty plains had now been filled with densely packed tents. Temporary fences and wooden walls formed an extraordinarily spectacular city of timber, canvas, and cowhide, while people methodically laid down roads.

"Whatever else can be said, this prince is truly rich." A man in silk robes sat in a chair, watching the bustling crowd outside the tent and unable to help sighing. Though construction on the city had not officially begun, some facilities were already in place: taverns, inns, smithies, schools, and certain unmentionable establishments. Lonzell had brought back not only men, but women and children as well.

"What did Count Caron say?" The speaker was another young man dressed in a high-collared silk outfit embroidered with black-and-white swans. He had just downed a mug of dark ale mixed with peppers and was slowly getting used to its somewhat peculiar flavor.

"The old man doesn't dare say a word." Stannis Storm, the slightly older bastard from Nightsong, gave a bitter smile as he poured himself a cup of ale. "The Dondarrion family has openly sided with our new Governor of the Borderlands. If not for the constraints of their oath, I guarantee he could swear fealty to the prince at any time. No matter how strong Nightsong is, it can't stand against two—no, three—or perhaps soon five dragons."

"Be precise." Eric Storm, the bastard from Stonehelm, corrected him. "There are only two dragons capable of fighting. Prince Rey's, Prince Jacaerys's, and Prince Lucerys's dragons are all too young. Though perhaps Prince Jacaerys's Vermax can join a battle now. Still, the only ones capable of threatening a castle are Bronze Fury and Silverwing."

Hearing their conversation, the silver-haired owner of the tent tavern carried over a platter of roasted lamb and set it before them. "If you two are nobles from other lands, you can go directly to the longhouse in the town center. Food and lodging are provided there."

Stannis Storm nodded to the owner. "We're merely passing through and replenishing supplies. We appreciate His Highness's kindness."

"If you need anything, go straight to the longhouse." Seeing that the two did not respond, the owner still left them with that sentence before pouring them fresh drinks.

"Valyrians?" Eric Storm asked doubtfully.

"By the look of it, Valyrians—or at least someone with Valyrian blood. Most of the people our young prince brought back carry Valyrian blood to some degree."

"Then does that mean we—"

"Stop dreaming." The older Stannis Storm mercilessly shattered Eric's fantasy. "Does Stonehelm not teach its bastards common sense?"

"Fine." Stannis Storm explained, "Ordinary Valyrians are mortals. You can find plenty of them in Essos. If you have money, you can even bed a few silver-haired, violet-eyed beauties in Lys. But a Dragonlord is a god." A trace of reverence showed in Stannis's eyes. He abruptly gulped down the newly served ale. "My old man will probably come to pay homage to the prince before long. Then he'll have to find a way to deal with the wrath of Lord Borros of Storm's End."

"Ah." Young Eric understood the implication as well. Among the nobles of the Eastern Borderlands, the Dondarrion family had already cleanly and effectively become part of the Valaerys family. Lonzell and the others lived in Blackhaven, where Borros of Storm's End could not reach them. The Selmy family of Harvest Hall was weak and naturally bent with the wind. The Morrigen family of Crow's Nest and the Connington family of Griffin's Roost had completely integrated into the Stormlands nobility. Though they were located in the Borderlands, they did not crave military protection as desperately as the families on the front line.

In the end, only Nightsong and Stonehelm still needed to state their positions. Stonehelm in particular had reason to worry: in order to piece together Lonzell's fief, the Iron Throne had purchased a great deal of land from the Swann family of Stonehelm.

Naturally, the Swann family hoped that one day they could reclaim from the Dornish the piece of flesh that had been cut away.

Quietly listening to the two bastards' conversation, a man inside the tent who was slicing roasted venison with a small knife fell into thought.

The man wore a neatly groomed full beard and a green hunter's outfit. His cloak was slightly dusty but still fairly clean. A tightly wrapped object was slung across his back. When he entered, the owner had tried to persuade him to leave it at the entrance, but the man sternly refused and repeatedly assured him there would be no trouble. Only then did the owner settle him in a corner of the tent.

If he had not said so himself, no one would have guessed that this old hunter-like man was Count Donald Tarly of Horn Hill, who had come in pursuit of his son and daughter.

He had deliberately arranged for his attendants to stay in another tavern, entering the town separately so as not to draw too much attention. Being alone also lowered the guard of the tavern's other patrons, allowing him to hear more information.

For example, the two wavering families of the Eastern Borderlands.

And Count Tarly himself, who had likewise begun to harbor other thoughts.

Donald Tarly thought of the current situation in the Western Borderlands. The Tyrell family of the Reach had always been weak and ineffectual, and now they were firmly suppressed by the Hightower family. They were no longer the mighty leaders the great and small lords of the Western Borderlands hoped would lead them into the deserts of Dorne once more. Meanwhile, the Peake family, with its vast lands, had been particularly restless in recent years, especially keen on networking among the smaller lords of the Western Borderlands. Who knew what they were plotting.

But the most urgent matter at hand was still finding his children.

Count Donald had many children, all of them exceptionally capable. His bold and free-spirited eldest daughter Samantha had married Lord Mund of the Hightower family. His learned, strong, and healthy second daughter Sansara remained unmarried. The ones who had run away this time were his third daughter Diana and his eldest son and heir, Alan.

Count Donald had never expected his usually obedient son and daughter to run away from home. In his fury, only his wife and second daughter's comfort had finally led him to turn his scrutiny upon himself, making him realize that he had been too harsh and insensitive in raising his children.

So this time, besides meeting Lonzell, the new Governor of the Borderlands, he had come to reconcile with the children who were said to be at Summerfield.

"Owner." Donald swallowed the last piece of roast meat and beckoned to the owner. "How do I get to the longhouse?"

"It's in the town center. Leave this area, circle around to the main road, then keep going straight."

"Thank you." Count Donald courteously waved to the owner, took his horse from the stable boy, and slowly headed toward the longhouse.

Two dragon shadows, one gold and one silver, swept across the sky. Count Donald could not help narrowing his eyes as he looked in the direction the dragons were flying.

From his angle, he could clearly see the two dragons flying toward the enormous castle that was beginning to take shape, using dragonfire to further sculpt its details.

Count Donald Tarly sighed and continued toward the longhouse.

"Father, have you made up your mind?"

A familiar voice sounded behind him. Count Donald abruptly turned around, and his daughter was standing there.

"Diana, have you forgiven Father?"

Diana smiled playfully instead of answering directly. "Father, the magnificent sight of His Highness the prince scorching a castle isn't something you can see every day. Why not watch a little longer?"

"How did you know Father had come?"

"From the moment you passed through the mountain pass, our people knew you had arrived. Quite a few nobles of the Borderlands have also sent family members here to observe." Diana gazed with fascination at the castle gradually taking shape.

"One day—no, very soon—there will be a great castle here, one no less magnificent than any castle in the Seven Kingdoms. Father, don't you want to join this grand occasion?"

Listening to his daughter, Count Tarly looked thoughtfully in the direction of King's Landing.

First chapter check-in. The first chapter of the next volume will be updated at 11:45. The volume is titled "Sunset of Dorne."