Variables (Part Three)

Hand Otto was the first to rise. "Your Grace, I must remind you that although Dorne is currently in turmoil, that does not mean we can conquer it completely. One misstep could swiftly rot this favorable situation away."

"Hand, you may as well speak plainly." Grand Maester Mellos stroked his chain. He wore links for politics and diplomacy, so he understood Otto's thoughts to some extent. Truthfully, Grand Maester Mellos was also worried that Viserys I might order the conquest of Dorne in a moment of rashness.

The Kingsguard commander, Criston Cole, seemed somewhat displeased, though he kept those feelings buried. At least for now, he could not show them.

He was, after all, a man of the Borderlands. The brave Kingsguard commander had been born to a minor noble family in Blackport. His father had once served as steward to the Dondarrion family, and his brother still served them to this day. As a knight of the Borderlands, being absent from the war in which the Borderlands vented its fury upon Dorne left the proud Kingsguard commander deeply dissatisfied.

Yet before the king and queen, the Kingsguard commander could not reveal such an attitude. It would be disrespectful to the royal family.

"Your Grace, I believe the royal family should support Prince Lonzell's retaliatory campaign." Ser Criston seized the moment and offered his advice before Hand Otto could speak. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was not only the head of the royal guard, but also the Crown's military minister, responsible for advising the king on military matters. "Or at the very least, require Lord Baratheon and Lord Tyrell to permit the nobles of the Borderlands to send troops in support. That way, the royal family will not lose its chance to secure benefits from this war."

"White Knight, the Dornish question is not merely a military matter." Otto spoke patiently. "It is also a political matter. Dorne now has four kings. Setting aside the weak Uller family, the Dayne family is focused on ruling Western Dorne and has no time to concern itself with East Dorne. The key to this melee lies with the Yronwood family and the Martell family. Neither can swallow the other in one bite. If outside forces merely stir the waters lightly, those two families may well fight until they beg for outside intervention. Ser Tyland, I do not mean to target your family. It is like a lion fighting a wolf. If a stag enters after both sides are exhausted and mutually ruined, then the stag will be the final victor. But if the stag rushes in recklessly, it will be met by the wolf and lion attacking together."

"Hand, that is hardly targeting only my family." Ser Tyland Lannister laughed. "A pity Lord Stark is far to the north, while Lord Baratheon is still recovering at Storm's End. Otherwise, they truly ought to hear your marvelous metaphor."

But Otto was indeed right. Lonzell had successfully torn Dorne apart, yet if the Iron Throne intervened rashly, Dorne would very likely unite again. But if the pressure from outside was not too great...

To settle internal affairs before confronting external threats.

There were no fools on Viserys I's Small Council. Naturally, they all understood at once.

"Your Grace, Lord Borros Baratheon has sent a letter requesting that the Iron Throne permit the lords of the Stormlands to raise troops. However, Lord Borros also guarantees that these forces will be used only for border defense. He will not start a war on his own initiative," Grand Maester Mellos added. "Surely the lords of the Reach will also understand the kingdom's difficulties."

"Of course." Otto had already written to his elder brother, Lord Hobert Hightower, and his nephew, Ser Mund Hightower. As one of the greatest noble houses in the south, the Hightower family had the ability to restrain the Reach lords and keep them calm. The only slight imperfection was that Ser Mund Hightower's wife, Samantha Tarly, came from the Tarly family, which was currently fighting in the war. This led many Reach nobles to believe the Hightower family had secretly meddled in the conflict behind their backs.

"Your Grace, I believe I must inform you of the current state of the royal treasury." Lord Lyman Beesbury coughed, drawing everyone's attention back. "No matter how the kingdom ultimately chooses to intervene in this war, sufficient gold will be required. Unfortunately, although the treasury holds one and a half million gold dragons of pure gold, along with no fewer than three million gold dragons mixed with impurities, if war begins, the cost will be astronomical." The old lord looked into the king's eyes. "The planning and construction of King's Landing require money. The maintenance of several great roads requires money. Your Grace must consider the treasury's state, and whether the people of King's Landing can bear the increased taxes after the war."

The king had calmed down by then. "Then what do you all believe the kingdom can do now?"

"Your Grace, do nothing," Hand Otto said. "Leave the front line to the right people." He continued, "Ignore the Dornish envoys, should they come to King's Landing. When the time is ripe, we will enter the fray."

Viserys nodded slightly. Though he knew of Otto's ambitions, Otto's abilities were even more outstanding. A capable ambitious man, if used properly, could bring endless benefits to the kingdom.

"My lords, there is one more matter." Lord Jasper Wylde, the master of laws, spoke up. "What if the Dornish wish to marry into Prince Lonzell's line?"

Everyone turned to look at the king.

Indeed, if the Dornish wished to maintain relations through marriage, Lonzell would find it difficult to refuse. Yet the royal family's objective was to keep the Valaerys family as close to royal oversight as possible.

Unfortunately, all the eligible daughters of the family were already promised to others. Breaking betrothals was not something they could bring themselves to do.

"Your Grace, the Valaerys family's marriages are indeed the most urgent matter. Prince Rey can wait, but Prince Lonzell and Prince Valar are both already sixteen." Lord Lyman Beesbury stopped halfway through his words, but everyone understood his meaning.

They needed to find matches among the great lords as quickly as possible, lest Lonzell truly marry a Dornishwoman when the time came. That would be quite a spectacle.

"We shall discuss this matter next time." Viserys suddenly felt a headache coming on. Such matters were truly troublesome. One careless move could cause a major problem.

"Grand Maester, Otto, you will be responsible for reviewing the eligible girls." King Viserys gave the order.

After the meeting ended, Larys Strong, the Clubfoot, walked down the corridors of the Red Keep with a cane, limping as he went. His thin lips were tightly pressed together, as if he were pondering something. Otto hurried past him, then gave him a puzzled glance. "Lord Larys, is there something you wish to say?"

"No, my lord." Larys smiled. "I was merely marveling at Princess Rhaenyra's decisiveness. Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys are both currently on the front line of the Dornish War. A royal who personally goes into battle will become a hero worth celebrating in the mouths of bards and common folk, especially after gaining victory. Let me think... the people will likely sing of the young princes' courage and fearlessness at the prince's side."

Otto's expression changed. "Lord Larys, shouldering the kingdom's burdens is the duty of royal family members. I am proud of the two princes."

"My lord truly is a pillar of the realm." Larys bowed. "My respects to you, our good Hand."

Otto nodded lightly and headed toward the Tower of the Hand. Queen Alicent was already waiting in its main hall.

"Your Grace, you are the queen." Seeing his daughter standing nervously before the fireplace, Otto could not help sighing. "At a time like this, you should be at the king's side."

"Father, I need your advice." Queen Alicent ignored everything else and lifted her skirts as she hurried to Otto. "Rhaenyra's sons have earned military merit, while my sons are slowly rotting away in King's Landing. Aegon idles about every day. Aemond nominally possesses the greatest dragon in the world, but in truth he has ridden it only once."

"You want Aegon and Aemond to join the war." Otto covered his face helplessly. "My dear daughter, my queen, war is not a game. Princess Rhaenyra's sons are merely following the army to gain experience. The Dornish battlefield already has two mature dragonriders. Aegon and Aemond's involvement would only give the Dornish an excuse to unite."

"And Rhaenyra's sons are not an excuse?" Alicent was unhappy, but she continued trying to persuade her father. "Members of the royal family have already joined the war. That is an indisputable fact. The bards of King's Landing have already begun singing of their bravery."

"They have legitimate grounds." Otto was becoming impatient. "They joined the war as the squires of Prince Lonzell and Prince Valar. No one can stop a squire from following his knight onto the battlefield."

"Prince, prince." Alicent smiled. "Father, have you forgotten that you previously promised to sell them one—or perhaps two—daughters?"

"Alicent, these matters are not necessarily connected." Otto suddenly felt a profound sense of helplessness.

"My sons cannot be inferior to Rhaenyra's sons." Alicent stepped closer again, forcing Otto to retreat several steps as well. "An outstanding prince cannot lack military merit."

"I understand, I understand." Otto did not dare speak harshly to his daughter at such a moment. "The time has not yet come. Once Prince Lonzell has established himself in Dorne and the situation becomes clear, the Iron Throne will naturally send troops to preserve peace. That will be the best moment for the princes to act. 'Peacemaker,' 'Liberator of Dorne,' 'Unifier,' 'Prince of Peace.' Such titles will spread among the common folk far more than that of warrior."

"But—"

"Alicent!" Otto finally found a chance to interrupt the queen. "You are the queen. At a time like this, you should be at the king's side, not..." He glanced around. "Not here in the Tower of the Hand with your father."

"I understand." Seeming to realize that her father would ultimately use such a reason to brush her off, Alicent finally left the Tower of the Hand in quick steps, muttering, "I am the queen," while lifting her skirts. Otto was left behind to let out a long breath.

"Aemond, what are you waiting for?" Aegon eagerly had his attendants dress him in leather armor. Aemond, a glittering sapphire set in his empty eye socket, stood quietly beside his brother with folded arms, watching Aegon inspect himself from every angle in the mirror. Once he had admired his own heroic appearance to his satisfaction, Aegon swept back his hair and strode over to his brother. "Mount Vhagar. We'll go to the Stone Road today. Vhagar may be slower, but three or four days will be enough."

"Have you gone mad?" Aemond glanced at his brother's hand on his shoulder and spoke calmly.

"I have not gone mad." Aegon looked into his brother's remaining eye. "This is a fine opportunity. Uncle Lonzell won a great victory. Now the Stone Road of Dorne, along with a vast stretch of land, belongs to the kingdom. All of Dorne is scattered like loose sand. We only need to fly over Dorne once, and when we return, bards will sing of our valor. Aemond, think about it. Once we go, every tavern and brothel you visit afterward will have commoners and whores speaking your wonderful name. Wouldn't that be splendid?"

"Did Father permit it?" Aemond looked at his brother with his sapphire eye, leaving Aegon choked speechless by a single question.

"B-but..."

"My brother." Aemond pushed Aegon's hand away. "Do you understand what consequences two true princes riding dragons into Dorne now would bring?"

"What?" Aegon froze, then immediately shuddered. "They would think a full-scale war had begun."

Aemond rolled his eye at his brother. He was not quite stupid beyond saving. "I read the maps and the battle reports. Brother, did you?"

Aegon shook his head, yet still tried to defend himself. "I heard them say it. Dorne has now split into several pieces, and the two largest, Yronwood and Martell, are practically beating each other's brains out."

"Without outside support, Yronwood could not have defeated the Martell family so smoothly. During the Great Sand Dune Raid, Lewyn Yronwood used fifteen hundred cavalry to shatter Prince Qoren's army of nearly ten thousand. That would have been impossible without sufficient intelligence support. It proves only one thing: our dear cousin supported the Yronwood family's ultimate decision to raise rebellion."

Aemond continued explaining to Aegon. "With the support of a dragon king who has no intention of swallowing all Dorne in one bite, the Yronwood family has enough confidence to challenge the Martell family. But if we go, it will be different. The balance will be broken. Prince Qoren will be able to rally the Dornish people's resistance against the Targaryens. Dorne, scattered like sand, will gather together again."

Aemond watched his brother's spirit gradually wither and said evenly, "Besides, neither Vhagar nor our two uncles' dragons fear scorpion bolts. What about your Sunfyre?"

Aegon instantly trembled. His beautiful Sunfyre was a young dragon. Though magnificent and powerful, it had not yet developed the scale thickness of an adult dragon. Great scorpion bolts could still injure it.

"Oh, I understand." Aegon looked at his leather armor and lowered his head reluctantly. "But our nephews have already earned military merit. People in King's Landing are already singing their praises..."

"Oh, they are indeed so formidable." Aemond curled his lip.

From the shadows, Helaena quietly watched the brothers' conversation. Without saying a word, she returned to her bedroom and stared silently at the extinguished brazier and fireplace, not knowing what she was thinking.

Dragonstone.

Princess Rhaenyra, who had already given birth to a healthy baby boy, looked at the letter in her hand and remained silent for a long time.

In the cradle beside her slept her newborn son, little Viserys, named after her father. What saddened the princess was that the dragon egg in the silver-haired infant's cradle had not hatched. This was unlike any of her previous sons.

Crisp footsteps came from outside. Prince Daemon, dressed in fitted riding clothes, pushed open the door.

"The child is asleep." Princess Rhaenyra reminded her husband, who was preparing to dote on their son. "Have you read the battle report sent back from the south?"

"I have." Daemon spoke softly. "Lonzell has absorbed the lessons of the previous Dornish War." He sat beside his wife. "He knew when to stop, and he stirred internal conflict. He succeeded at both. Once the fruit ripens, Dorne will be his for the taking."

"Do the lords of Dorne not realize that?" Princess Rhaenyra asked.

"Greed makes people shortsighted, my dear." Daemon smiled and spoke softly. "Even if they realize it, they will not let the benefits already in their hands fly away. As long as they cling to the notion of uniting Dorne before dealing with Lonzell, we will remain invincible."

"You found good knights for little Jace and little Luke." Rhaenyra smiled softly. "I have already heard singers calling them brave princes. I hear the people of the Borderlands admire little Jace and little Luke greatly, because they ate and lived alongside the soldiers during the campaign."

"That is a good thing." Daemon smiled. "Enough legendary tales will make people overlook rumors."

"Still, I must pray to the Seven." Rhaenyra looked into her husband's eyes. "They are my sons. Even knowing they are in danger makes my heart uneasy."

"Then let us pray together." Daemon took his wife's hand. "The gods will bless them."

The ruins of Wyl.

Lonzell's main army had chosen to establish its camp here. The people of the former Wyl lands readily accepted the rule of their new lord.

After all, he had exempted them from taxes for a year, greatly reduced the taxes afterward, and brought cheap food. Even when building fortresses and camps, he paid them promptly.

The Dornish were uninhibited and did not care much for the rules northerners loved to fuss over, but they were still people. The Dornish had their own system of honor. Lonzell had defeated Uller Vail, defeated everyone from the Vail family, and defeated many great nobles. Naturally, the martial Dornish would admire him, especially since Lonzell had also defeated several knights who came to challenge him.

The Dornish hated conquerors, but they revered generous heroes.

Thus, Lonzell's governance proceeded remarkably smoothly. People from the Borderlands and those Lonzell had brought with him gradually began filling the population gap in the Wyl lands.

"Prince Lonzell of the Valaerys family, Lord of King's Landing, Key of the Boneway, Governor of the Borderlands, Guardian of the Stone Road, noble of Silver Blood, descendant of the Emperor of Valyria, slayer of venomous serpents, destroyer of Toran..."

"Enough, enough." Lonzell waved helplessly, signaling that there was no need to read so much. Valar, beside him, had already begun to snicker. Hofa Lawkeeper alone maintained a stern face, standing straight alongside the Dothraki youth Ago at their lord's sides. Hofa's lips moved as though he were silently reciting Lonzell's titles.

Lord Edric Dondarrion finally stopped reciting the remaining epithets. "I have released my oath of fealty to Lord Baratheon and received the lord's approval. Your Highness, the lords of the Borderlands should all kneel and swear loyalty to the true Governor of the Borderlands." He glanced at Lord Jello Selmy and Lord Donald Tarly. "From this day forth, the Dondarrion family of Blackport shall recognize the Valaerys family as its liege. Purple lightning shall strike down every obstacle before you. From this day until Blackport collapses and the last Dondarrion dies, our loyalty shall be entrusted to you and your family. Let the old and new gods bear witness: so it is today, and so it shall remain every day hence."

Edric raised the sword resting in his hands above his head.

Lonzell smiled and accepted Lord Edric's sword. "I accept your loyalty. There will always be a place for the Dondarrion family in the halls of King's Landing."

"It is Dondarrion's honor, Your Highness," Lord Edric said respectfully.

The soldiers who had distinguished themselves in this war followed behind the lord and came forward one by one to receive their rewards.

Myles Hermosa and his grandfather, who had been granted a surname, received a tract of land near the Sea of Dorne and became landed knights.

Roderick Ysabell, a mercenary knight from the Vale who had killed several knights of the Uller family in battle and led a small unit in destroying more than a hundred Dornish infantrymen, also received a small piece of land in the Red Mountains.

Lonzell generously granted them enough money to build a small castle.

The two newly raised nobles instantly burst into tears and swore before the Seven that they would serve the Valaerys family for life.

"Your Highness."

A woman's voice came from outside the tent. A woman in a coarse cloth dress entered with her head lowered, leading a tall, thin little boy by the hand.

"My husband, Abel Hayton, was the lord of Skybridge. He died bravely when the bastards of the Vail family invaded. I wish to ask..." At the mention of her husband, the woman choked up. Great tears streamed down her face, while her son thoughtfully helped wipe them away.

"Your Highness, my mother wishes to request that you issue a decree reaffirming the Hayton family's ownership of the Skybridge lands." The little boy stepped forward and clearly made the request in the Common Tongue.

"That is only proper." Lonzell looked at the boy. "The loyal and brave must not be forsaken." He looked toward Lord Edric.

"Ser Abel was a loyal and brave knight." Lord Edric did not conceal his subordinate's accomplishments. "He once risked his life for my son, and in the end, died beside my son on the battlefield."

"What is your name?" Lonzell asked.

"My name is Ravel."

"Very good, little Ravel. Would you be willing to join my court?" Lonzell stepped down from his seat and came before the boy's mother. "I will personally write a decree confirming the Hayton family's lands. My lady, would you agree to let Ravel come to my court? I will arrange the best teachers, food, and lodging for the descendant of a loyal and brave knight."

"It is the honor of the Hayton family, Your Highness." The woman hurriedly lifted her skirts and curtsied. "The Hayton family shall forever be your sharpest sword."

Lonzell patted little Ravel's head and returned to his seat.

"The next to enter."

Was a Dornishman.