Highgarden was a city of art and beauty, green, wealthy, and prosperous. Flowers bloomed everywhere in the castle's rose gardens, while courtyards, pools, and artificial waterfalls adorned the grounds. Stone carvings, fountains, and marble columns filled the castle. Grapevines and roses decorated its walls and sculptures, and vines covered the ancient buildings. From Highgarden's towers, one could see every estate and field for several leagues around. Beyond the walls, flowers and golden roses grew in abundance.
Several members of House Tyrell chatted in a white pavilion beside a fountain.
Outside the slender, elegant pavilion stood two guards wearing gilded halfhelms and green cloaks edged with gold thread, the golden rose of Highgarden embroidered on their chests. Both were seven feet tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, and powerfully muscled. Up close, it was impossible to tell them apart. They had the same strong jaws, the same deep blue eyes, and the same thick red beards. They were the Queen of Thorns' Twin Guards.
"Did you know about the portrait Renly had a Myrish artist paint of my granddaughter?" the Queen of Thorns asked.
"Yes! There was indeed such a painting! It was beautifully done. The Myrmen's style was wonderfully lifelike!" Lord Mace had been powerfully built in his younger days. Now he had grown somewhat stout, though he remained handsome. He had curly brown hair, and flecks of gray had appeared in his neatly trimmed, triangular beard.
"Then you knew what Renly intended!" Lady Olenna fixed her eyes on her son. She was in her sixties, silver-haired and short. Her hands were soft, her fingers thin, and her speech carried an old woman's sour bite. As House Tyrell's elder, she still danced carefully across the board of power.
Lord Mace spoke rather sheepishly. "Don't you want your little sweetheart to become queen? It isn't just Renly. All of King's Landing knows the king doesn't love the queen. He still loves that brown-haired northern girl. Her shadow has never gone away."
"The king?" Margaery was startled too, and began weighing the advantages and risks. She wore a green cloak woven with golden roses, which fluttered in the breeze, over a green gown that made her especially enchanting. Still in her teens, she was slender and beautiful, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a doe's gentle gaze. She had never imagined that her brother and Renly were planning something so bold!
"Foolishness! The situation in King's Landing is murky, and the lions' influence there runs deep. Dear Renly-can you really count on that witty young man? At least he hasn't gone quite too far. He chose to offer my sweetheart as a replacement for the lioness rather than crown himself king." The Queen of Thorns sighed. "There is no hurry. We hold the granaries and the bread. Whoever sits on that cold Iron Throne will not dare offend us too greatly."
"The king is hardly suitable! I said so from the beginning, but Father and Renly insisted on their own views. You should have asked Grandmother and our little sister what they thought!" said Willas, Highgarden's heir, from his wheelchair. "King Robert is fat and fond of drink. He wastes his days in brothels and hunting. He is no longer the dazzling stag he once was. Marrying him would bring my sister little glory and great danger. Perhaps we could choose someone more advantageous."
"Then I think Renly would be quite good too. Brave and gentle!" Mace said.
Lady Olenna scoffed. She was small, but all thorns. "I suspect he's a little mad. Perhaps it comes from that trace of dragon blood in him. Beauty and charm cannot change his rebellious thoughts. His brother has children, and he himself has an elder brother. They once wanted me to marry a Targaryen. I would have none of it."
"My grandson Willas is one of the clever ones among us. That gives me some comfort. Tell Loras and Renly to stop their foolish games! Roses grow in the Reach. We have cultivated little in King's Landing! Besides, the king can still keep matters under control. Let us not add to the trouble there."
"But, Mother! This is a rare opportunity." Mace flushed. "For more than ten years, there has scarcely been a place on the Small Council for anyone from the Reach. Our family has never won the honor of a crown, either! Even the Dornish-House Martell of Dorne-have produced a queen."
Any mention of House Martell made Mace agitated and reddened his neck. The Reach and Dorne had been at odds since ancient times, and House Martell had also left Highgarden's heir crippled.
"I don't blame Prince Oberyn! Such things happen in the lists. We even exchange ideas about cooking horsemeat from time to time," Willas interjected. One of his legs was lame. At his first tourney, his opponent had been Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Oberyn had unhorsed him. Unfortunately, Highgarden's heir had caught his foot in the stirrup, and his mount had fallen on him. One of Willas's knees had been completely shattered, leaving him crippled.
"Well, my grandson has some sense, at least. Hatred and frivolity always rob people of their reason! Your father grows giddy at the thought of his grandson taking the throne, like a fish lost in fantasies.
"House Stark ruled as kings for generations, as did House Arryn and House Lannister. Even the Baratheons descend from ancient royalty through their mother's line. Only House Tyrell rose to power after the Dragon King Aegon burned the rightful King of the Reach in the field of fire. Before that, we were merely stewards. But what does that matter? My son, our branches flourish. We have never been so strong! Every side needs us. We should wait, not rush!"
"Very well. There will still be opportunities! And that damned House Florent, forever making an issue of our right to rule. Sooner or later, I'll make them pay!" Mace said angrily.
"Enough, Mace! A king is not so easily born. Think of Leo Longthorn. How many years did it take our family to produce a man like him?" the Queen of Thorns said. Leo "Longthorn" had been a renowned warrior and lover of tourneys, widely respected and beloved. Nearly a century later, Lord Leo was still considered the finest knight House Tyrell had ever produced. He had been a master jouster, and many believed he might have been the greatest jousting champion in history.
"Now, Willas, have you any interesting news to share with your old grandmother?" the Queen of Thorns asked.
"Nothing else, though there is an interesting report from across the Narrow Sea. A new king has risen in the Disputed Lands. He frees slaves and plunders Firepowder Herb Estates, which has sent the price of Myrish fireweed soaring. The slaves call him the Fireweed King or the Iron King. He wears an iron mask and iron armor and carries an iron hammer. No one can stop him on the battlefield."
"The Fireweed King! He sounds like a runaway slave."
"He isn't. He's the new Commander-in-Chief of the Wolf Pack Company, a fierce and cunning warrior. He wields a warhammer, and no one can match him. He has killed many men from Meereen, and Unsullied as well!" Willas said.
"The Wolf Pack Company? The demon with the warhammer!" The Queen of Thorns paused. "Descendants of those savage northerners! I never imagined they were still active!"
"Yes! The Wolf Pack Company became embroiled in the Myrmen's struggle, and now they have formed a faction of their own!"
"What is so interesting about this Fireweed King? He's merely some distant bandit." Mace scoffed, despite having achieved nothing in his decades of military service.
"The price of fireweed is soaring. We need to contact this Fireweed King as well. Besides, he may attack the Stepstones next, just as the Ninepenny Kings did!"
Chapter 34: The Galloping Stag (Please keep reading)
The changing situation across the Narrow Sea was like a butterfly bringing forth a storm.
"The Ninepenny Kings certainly kept the world lively for several years. King Robert's grandfather Monde died there!" the Queen of Thorns said. "Nine Oddballs of pirates. Who would have thought someone would imitate them after all these years!"
"Nothing but a game played by pirates, butter merchants, cheese merchants, and slavers!" Mace remained dismissive.
"This Fireweed King is freeing slaves in the Disputed Lands. Perhaps he will stir up some waves too!" Willas said. "But he has broken completely with Myr. He frees slaves and is now seizing the Myrish slavers' estates on a grand scale. The other two Daughters are probably sitting on pins and needles too, afraid of this storm."
"The merchants in Myr have used the chaos to drive fireweed prices sky-high. The Fireweed King holds more fireweed, at better prices, and armies urgently need it. I think we need to establish contact with him!" Willas said.
"What sort of reasoning is that? A lord doing business with the leader of a band of slaves!" Mace pursed his lips.
"It never hurts to pay attention to the world! We must tread carefully," the Queen of Thorns added. "Willas, don't be like your father. Sometimes I wish I were a peasant woman, so I could hit him with a big wooden spoon and knock some sense into that fat head."
"Mother!" Mace flushed.
"When the leader of a band of slaves gains resources, that changes everything. Fireweed has always been expensive!" the Queen of Thorns said. "This is for our family's future, and for the chaos that may come. The clouds of war will not disperse. This summer has lasted so long. The long winter nights to come will surely be just as cruel."
"I will keep watching events across the Narrow Sea. Sailors from Oldtown and House Redwyne will bring us news as well! If necessary, we may have to meet this newly risen Fireweed King!" Willas said. "But will the Spider embellish our plans?"
"The eunuch is slipperier than you imagine. For now, he will not spoil our affairs! Child, prepare for the future. King's Landing is full of lions, and one resentful, stubborn stag," the Queen of Thorns declared. "The eunuch's thoughts run far deeper than ours. He looks like everyone's friend, but who knows what he thinks?"
"Could I go to the Disputed Lands too? I've read about the War of the Ninepenny Kings. The Disputed Lands are rich and chaotic!" Margaery suddenly interjected.
"Absolutely not!" Mace immediately cut off his daughter's idea. "There are pirates in the Stepstones who specialize in kidnapping noble men and women from Westeros."
"What if brave Garlan accompanied our little flower?" A tall, powerfully built knight in a green cloak approached. He resembled the Knight of Flowers, but was taller and stronger.
"Brother! I'd be delighted to have your protection!" Margaery said happily.
Garlan entered the pavilion as well. Bearded, he looked more like a wild warrior than a delicate young nobleman. His personal arms were two golden roses on a green field, signifying his place as the second son.
Garlan was braver than Willas and wiser than Loras, possessing the strengths of both.
"I'm interested in the Fireweed King too. I suspect he may be an exiled knight from Westeros. The Wolf Pack Company has always been that way," Garlan said. "But a knight so brave should have distinguished himself in the lists long ago."
"Perhaps he doesn't care for honors or fame!" Margaery said. "Like you, Brother-a humble, practical man."
"Then he is all the more frightening!" Garlan considered it. "If a young man doesn't care for empty fame, he wants something more! The Fireweed King is also a man of real combat. He fights men from Meereen to the death and battles the Unsullied." Garlan longed to face such an opponent. He was skilled with a sword himself and usually practiced against three or four men at once, preparing for the situations he might encounter in a real battle.
There was an estate in the Disputed Lands not far from the Firepowder Herb Estate. It was a smaller property belonging to another Myrish governor.
The Free Army surrounded the estate like a rising tide. The Free Army Banner was black, depicting a slave breaking his own shackles. The freed slaves shouted, "Freedom! Freedom!"
The crowd parted. Gendry appeared on a fine black horse like a storm. Long Spear and the others followed close behind him. The Wolf Pack Company's mercenaries were the finest troops, and every one of them was now fully armed. They carried double-bladed greataxes, sharp daggers, longswords, maces, and spiked morningstars. They wore studded leather and mail, with greaves protecting their legs and gorgets supporting their heads.
"Victory! Victory!" The Free Army cheered too, though their equipment was far simpler. They wore mail and leather armor, and their weapons were crude. The slave estates had contained little fine equipment, barely enough to arm the slaves. At least the Wolf Pack Company was not short of money for now and could purchase supplies with fireweed. Steel Fist and Long Spear drilled the Free Army's soldiers in the use of short swords, shields, and heavy spears.
Gendry wore a rough iron mask and black scale armor. He carried the Black Warhammer, renowned throughout the Disputed Lands, its surface gleaming coldly!
War had tempered and honed him. Gendry looked taller and stronger. Raising the mace in his hand, he rode back and forth before the Free Army several times. Every time he appeared, the soldiers' cheers swelled. War had one truth: victory.
Shouts and cries filled the space outside the estate. There were no answering cheers from its defenders, only desolation.
"Liberator! Breaker of shackles!"
"Liberator!" the Free Army's warriors cheered.
Most of the newly freed soldiers were thin and sallow, but they had finally gained something precious: confidence worth its weight in gold.
Perhaps I can do better! Gendry thought. Seize a brilliant opening in battle, then win a victory that shines like the stars.
The estate's gates opened of their own accord. There was no resistance from the slave owners. The rebellious slaves had killed the Myrish steward and offered up the estate.
"The seventh estate!" Qyburn said behind him. Estates meant people and wealth, but also immense responsibility.
"Master Qyburn, you will continue taking the census, tallying the wealth, and surveying the land!"
"Long Spear, maintain discipline. Free people are our brothers. We are not an army of beasts!"
"Yes, Commander-in-Chief!"
"Enter!" Gendry waved his hand and urged his black horse into the estate, the breeze stirring his black hair. At that moment, he was a galloping stag.
The slaves rushed joyfully out of the estate for this brief encounter.
"Freedom! Freedom!" The slaves scrambled up the estate's towers, jostling to be first. They threw down the flag bearing the ship of Lys. A ship appeared on Lysene coins as well.
Chapter 35: The Brave Companions and the Second Sons
Beautiful Myrish tapestries hung on the walls of the estate's council chamber, depicting scenes of a bountiful harvest.
Gendry, Qyburn, and Handsome Man were in the chamber, with a map of the Disputed Lands spread across the long table. Victory was sweet, certainly, but the more victories they won, the more frightened the Myrmen would become. At some point, fear might even drive the Three Daughters to unite.
"Now that we've taken the estate, distribute everything as before. Give the land and everyday necessities to the freed slaves. Precious metals, handicrafts, medicines, and so on go into the treasury, just as before!" Gendry said. These were the private possessions of Myrish governors and wealthy merchants, after all, so he felt no pain at parting with them. Precious metals, valuable handicrafts, medicines, and similar goods were reserved for military pay and kept in a dedicated treasury.
"Everything has been registered. Distribution will follow," Qyburn said.
"The Firepowder Herb Estate, the Purple Thorn Estate, the Foxtail Estate..." Handsome Man added. "We are taking more and more estates, and the Myrmen are growing increasingly afraid."
"Most of these estates belong to Myrish governors or wealthy merchants, chiefly Governor Joey," Qyburn said. "I fear it won't be long before mercenaries or adventurers hired by the Myrmen come to attack us!"
The Wolf Pack Company's former commander and its allies had all died at the hands of Joey and the Sailors' Guild. The hatred between the two sides ran deep. Whether to seize territory in the present or avenge their former commander, they would have to fight Governor Joey and his people to the bitter end.
"The best news is that the Myrmen are not united. Just like the Three Daughters," Gendry said. "There are a dozen or so governors on the High Council, like a dozen horses all running in different directions!"
Division was an old tradition among the Three Daughters. In its day, the Triarchy's High Council had consisted of thirty-three governors, eleven each from Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh. Every governor wanted to display his foresight and exalted standing, and every governor wanted to secure advantages for his own city. Every issue had to undergo interminable debate.
"Perhaps many Myrish governors ought to thank us!" Handsome Man said. "Because we control so much fireweed, the merchants hoarding it in Myr have made enormous profits. They would love us to keep stirring up trouble a while longer!"
"Let the Myrmen quarrel. We will make the most of the time we have," Gendry said.
"The Myrmen have only sent small groups of assassins and attempted covert killings. We've eliminated them all! Next, they may hire bandits and mercenaries!" Besides medicine, Qyburn was also responsible for intelligence and spies.
"We must secure the Firepowder Herb Estate and the estates nearby, then open a route to the coast."
"Besides troops on land, perhaps we need a navy too. If we conquer the Disputed Lands, we cannot ignore the Stepstones. Otherwise, we will find ourselves surrounded on several fronts," Handsome Man reasoned.
"Ideally, we would take the Disputed Horn, then gain control of several nearby islands!"
"Besides the smugglers operating underground in the Three Daughters, have any other powers contacted us?" Gendry interjected.
"Yes!" Qyburn said. "According to my informants in the taverns, some Dornishmen and men from the Reach are very interested in our fireweed too!"
"The Dornish! Men from the Reach! Interesting."
Dorne was barren, while the Reach was rich. The only thing the Dornish and the people of the Reach had in common was their exclusion from the heart of House Baratheon's rule. Both had been neglected in the distribution of power.
Aboard a luxurious pleasure yacht in Myr Bay, the Myrish High Governors' Council was meeting in feverish haste. The slender, olive-skinned governors represented different factions: the Sailors' Guild, the Artisans' Guild, the Fireweed Guild, and others.
The governors argued uproariously. The storm stirred up by the Fireweed King, who had lately been rampaging through the Disputed Lands, was growing ever greater. Even within the city of Myr, stories about him were spreading. "Divide the land and give it to the common people. Every person is born free!"
"Governor Joey, your foolish decision has brought us to this predicament! Fireweed prices keep rising, and so do the prices of firewine. The citizens are complaining bitterly, and the slaves are full of resentment." One governor opened fire on Joey first.
"Me! Am I to blame for all the Wolf Pack's rampaging?" Governor Joey flushed. "I know some governors are in contact with the Fireweed King. The more chaotic the Disputed Lands become, the more money you can make from your hoarded fireweed and firewine!"
"It was your stupidity. The fall of a governor is nothing unusual. But your incompetence has allowed those mad wolf pups to run riot through the Disputed Lands. Without slaves, how are we to make firewine and mead? How are we to produce those exquisite tapestries?" the governor from the Artisans' Guild demanded.
"That is slander!" The governors began quarreling. Before fighting the enemy, they had started tearing into one another.
"Enough! Enough! Be quiet!" An elderly governor with olive skin, white hair, and black eyes rose to his feet. Governor Rayward wore the emblem of the Artisans' Guild and was among the powerful and highly respected governors of Myr.
"The Disputed Lands are fertile and beautiful. Slaves are the foundation of Myr's prosperity. We cannot abandon either. We cannot allow these bandit mercenaries and slaves to continue running wild!" Rayward said.
"Then what do you propose? Appeasement or extermination?"
Before you continue