The army camp outside Duskold Town.
A cold wind blew in from the sea, whipping up dust and setting countless banners snapping.
Inside Walter Haigh's tent.
Twelve knights stood at attention.
They were the household knights of House Haigh, Walter Haigh's trusted retainers.
Walter Haigh sat at the head of the tent, his aged face flickering between light and shadow in the firelight, his eyes burning with frightening fervor.
"I have summoned you because a matter that concerns the future of Westeros will be decided by our hands."
His voice was low, yet carried an unquestionable resolve.
The knights exchanged glances, unease stirring in their hearts.
"Suleiman intends to rebel against House Targaryen."
"I have decided to launch an uprising soon and take Duskold Town by surprise."
"Kill Suleiman!"
Walter Haigh pronounced each word slowly and distinctly.
The tent instantly fell deathly silent.
All thirteen men froze as though struck by lightning, disbelief written across their faces.
Their leader, Ser Derrick, who had served House Whent for twenty years, was the first to recover.
His brows knotted together, and he stepped forward.
"My lord, what exactly are you saying?"
Ser Derrick's voice trembled slightly with shock.
Why does it feel as though you're the one planning a rebellion?
"That's impossible!" another middle-aged knight couldn't help shouting.
"We just followed him to victory in a war we had no chance of winning!"
"And... even if..."
"Exactly!" Walter Haigh slammed his hand on the table.
"Precisely because he won a war he had no chance of winning!"
"He commands a powerful army! His prestige is at its height! He is no longer content to remain a dutiful vassal!"
"He wants to hold the king hostage! Command the lords! Usurp the throne!"
Walter Haigh rose and paced back and forth inside the tent,