Resolve

"Why must we use stone to build a keep?" Baelon asked slowly.

He recalled a certain Count of Anjou, who had risen from an insignificant figure to the ruler of the most important territory because he had recognized the castle's potential as a tool of war.

"Defense is easier than attack."

"We can raise an earthen mound and build a wooden tower on top, or simply build walls out of earth."

Corlys immediately voiced his agreement. "A massive earthen mound can be just as effective at repelling invaders."

Baelon smiled at him.

He continued, "I own a brickworks. There are over a hundred thousand red bricks stored on the banks of the Blackwater Rush."

It was meant to give the strong young men of King's Landing work carrying and digging clay, keeping the peace by stopping them from causing trouble, and also to prepare for the future redevelopment of King's Landing's old districts and the demolition of Flea Bottom.

King's Landing was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, yet its streets were dirt, and much of the ground was smeared with piss and shit...

Baelon had long thought that once he had money, he would throw himself into redeveloping King's Landing!

He had fired quite a lot of bricks.

In Westeros, building stone was mostly quarried from the mountains by masons and carved into blocks, a time-consuming, laborious process.

"For the Kingdom, I am willing to provide a batch of red bricks free of charge, without payment," Baelon said slowly. "I believe you have all seen the factories built of red brick outside the city."

Otto watched Viserys's expression and raised no objection.

"And..."

Speaking of castles and fortifications, Baelon inevitably found images of bastions and star forts flashing through his mind.

They were the ultimate development of castles, fortresses said to eliminate defensive blind spots.

But there was one issue: bastion forts had emerged in response to artillery. Would they prove ill-suited to Westeros?

Baelon frowned slightly.

Daemon sneered and prompted impatiently, "And what?"

He loathed the hesitation Baelon sometimes displayed, so exactly like Viserys's!

Baelon ignored Daemon with practiced ease.

He picked up a quill and sketched a simple overhead view of a star fort on the paper.

Viserys rose curiously to take a look, while the senior members of the Small Council exchanged glances.

"I have an idea. Perhaps defensive forts need not be built in circles or squares."

Baelon pushed the drawing into the middle of the table, and everyone's eyes fell on the paper.

It showed a seven-pointed star drawn around a circle, with the circle labeled "curtain wall."

"If we build a series of points projecting outward..." Baelon pointed at the facing sides of two triangles. "Archers on the flanks of the angular bastions can fire along the adjacent walls. Their crossfire can eliminate defensive blind spots."

Though Baelon's drawing was highly abstract, his explanation made up for it.

None of the senior members of the Small Council were fools. They all understood this defensive design that was far ahead of its time.

Lyonel's pupils contracted.

Throughout history, whether in Westeros or the Free Cities, the many castles had each possessed their own distinctive features, but none had ever escaped the constraints of squares and circles.

Not even his Harrenhal, the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms.

That fortress, which towered above all others in the Seven Kingdoms, had taken Harren the Black, King of the Iron Islands and the Riverlands, forty years to build, working thousands of captives to death in the quarries and felling countless weirwoods.

Even Harrenhal had not escaped the constraints of its age.

When it came to defending castles, everything he had learned at the Citadel and studied himself concerned making walls taller and thicker.

But Prince Baelon...

Lyonel looked at Baelon, great waves surging through his heart.

It was so simple. Building a castle with star-shaped angles could strengthen its defenses.

Yet no one had thought of it in all those thousands upon thousands of years!

He enjoyed the king's deep trust. Once, after drinking, Viserys had quietly confided his secret to him: his prophetic dreams.

The rare Targaryen gift of a Dreamwalker.

At his very first Small Council meeting, Prince Baelon had revealed insights far beyond his age.

Lyonel thought that King Viserys had been right after all.

The gods had promised this century to House Targaryen.

He slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again, his gaze brimming with fighting spirit. This century belonged to House Targaryen, to the Seven Kingdoms!

Lyonel's blood surged, as though he stood amid the grand currents of history.

Earl Lyman Beesbury's eyes widened, his voice full of wonder. "Seven above!"

He gazed at Baelon in awe. "Wisdom bestowed by the Crone..."

Otto's eyes were calm, his mind racing.

All they needed to do was build a ring of angular bastions around an existing castle to defend it effectively.

There was no need to expend vast amounts of manpower and resources quarrying stone at enormous cost.

With bastion forts, even a nobleman's second son without much wealth could protect himself.

"Whenever an enemy attacks, they will face attacks from two walls at once." Otto's voice remained calm, though his breathing was slightly quickened.

He looked at Viserys, the prophetic dreams the king had privately told him about echoing in his mind.

As Hand of the King, he enjoyed more of Viserys's trust than any other senior member of the Small Council and had learned many secrets.

So... the Seven really could favor someone so deeply!

Otto's feelings were complex, beyond words.

For generations, countless members of House Hightower had joined the Faith of the Seven, dedicating their lives to serving the Seven.

Yet now, he saw the Seven's favor in an impious Targaryen.

Prince Baelon rarely even read the Seven-Pointed Star. He had shelved that holy book, copied by hand by the High Septon of Oldtown, and left it untouched.

Rhaenyra slowly approached the table.

Corlys Velaryon had once covered his wine cup with his hand, refusing to let her pour for him. Now, however, he lavished praise on Baelon.

"Prince Baelon, you have pioneered a new approach to castle defense unseen in thousands of years. Your name will surely be immortal."

At the Small Council, no one cared about her opinions.

Now, a few rough strokes from Baelon had left them all silent and shaken.

Her father, Viserys, wore a face full of pride, as though they were praising him.

Her fingers tightened, slowly gripping the wine cup.

Daemon narrowed his eyes and looked steadily at Baelon.

It seemed the gods were merciful.

Along with the boy's madness, they had granted him a little greatness.

Baelon swept his gaze over them. "You are all wise men of the Seven Kingdoms. What potential weaknesses do you see in these angular fortifications?"

He had lived on this continent for only six years and knew nothing of military affairs. Whether bastion forts suited Westeros and what weaknesses they might have, he could only rely on everyone's opinions.

Viserys's eyes shone, the corners of his mouth unconsciously spreading toward his ears. "What do you think?"

"Speak freely!"

Otto considered for a moment before saying cautiously, "With rammed earth, if the enemy digs a tunnel for a surprise attack..."

Otto Hightower truly deserved to be Hand of the King. Baelon nodded inwardly. That was indeed a potential weakness.

Corlys, however, laughed heartily. "Lord Hand, the Stepstones are a chain of islands."

"They are surrounded by sea on all sides. Seawater could flood the ground beneath them at any moment."

Digging tunnels there could mean courting death with a single careless move!

Corlys's voice brimmed with excitement. "Your Grace, with these angular fortifications, once we take the Stepstones, they can remain part of Westeros's territory forever!"

Earl Beesbury repeatedly voiced his agreement.

Viserys felt a little tipsy. Everyone's praise sounded like fine wine, leaving him deeply intoxicated.

Hesitant and uneasy, he sought confirmation. "Against Dorne and the Triarchy, can we really hold the Stepstones?"

What?

What?

For a moment, everyone's eyes were involuntarily drawn to Viserys by those words.

Baelon stared blankly at Viserys, his eyes wide.

Father, are you in your right mind?!

Even the mature and steady Lyonel could not help the twitch at the corner of his mouth when he heard that.

Even Otto could not restrain himself and lowered his head to look at the floor.

Corlys slowly leaned back in his chair, his gaze disappointed.

It seemed this Small Council meeting would end no differently from the others.

He was almost utterly disheartened.

Everything was ready, everything was on their side, yet the king lacked ambition.

Corlys's gaze moved between Baelon and Daemon.

He could no longer tolerate the pirates of the Stepstones.

Ever since Aegon the Conqueror had become the sole king, lords had lost the right to wage war rashly. Starting a war without permission would be considered rebellion.

But if a Targaryen started the war, there would naturally be no grounds for a charge of rebellion.

Baelon was one of his own, but Daemon had always been arrogant and unrestrained, and had never shied away from angering Viserys...

At last, his gaze settled on Daemon.

Baelon truly could not keep his composure any longer.

It seemed he would have to bring out his trump card.

"Your Grace."

His tone was certain. "We will take the Stepstones, and war between us and Dorne is inevitable."

"What?" Viserys looked at Baelon.

Baelon thought that since Viserys believed in omens and dreams, he would give them to him.

The courage he needed, the omens he needed-he could provide them all!

He looked straight at Viserys, earnest and solemn. "I have seen Sunspear. Sunspear engulfed in flames."

"Dragons circled in the skies above Dorne."

Viserys abruptly raised his head and demanded incredulously, "Are you certain?!"

"I am absolutely certain." Baelon's words rang firm!

Thank goodness for the Dreamwalker persona he had maintained for six years.

Thank goodness for his identity as the prince of prophecy!

Viserys drew a deep breath, a look of agonized struggle appearing on his face.

Baelon: ...

He was in agony too.

He continued trying to persuade him. "Besides, it is no longer up to us whether to go to war."

"The Dornish have allied with the Triarchy. The Fifth Dorne War is already brewing!"

If you do not attack them, does that mean they will not attack you?!

"To protect the Seven Kingdoms, rather than sit helplessly and wait for a Dornish invasion, we should strike first and take the Stepstones."

Earl Lyman Beesbury recalled the Fourth Dorne Invasion.

He spoke boldly. "Your Grace, Prince Morion Martell's combined fleet was once destroyed by three dragons: Vermithor, Vhagar, and Caraxes."

"That brought decades of peace to the Seven Kingdoms."

Those words stirred Viserys's memories of that war.

The combined Dornish fleet had crossed the Dornish Sea, intending to land at Cape Wrath and plunder the Stormlands.

But Jaehaerys the Conciliator had relied on neither fleets nor soldiers.

He had ridden Vermithor, accompanied by the dragons ridden by his two sons. The three dragons had swooped and circled at will, breathing raging fire.

Ship after ship had been set alight. Not a single Dornishman had reached shore alive.

Three men, three dragons.

Viserys let out a long breath, his gaze firming.

Otto's thoughts raced. "Your Grace."

"The Dornish are now brimming with ambition. I fear they will not listen to an envoy's words."

"Only after giving them blood and fire can we better sit down at the negotiating table and discuss peace."

Daemon snorted.

Seeing this, Larys seized the opportunity to speak. "Your Grace, the Triarchy consists of three Free Cities. They have longstanding grudges against one another, and their foundations are not solid."

"We can promise rich benefits to one of the other cities, offering special trading privileges in King's Landing to divide the alliance."

"And we can ally with Pentos and Volantis."

He bowed. "I am willing to do my utmost to try."

This was his field of expertise.

His opportunity, his stage.

With everything said, they all awaited the final outcome.

Viserys drew a deep breath and slowly released it.

He suddenly rose to his feet. "My lords!"

"To defend the realm, I, Viserys Targaryen, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, hereby command."

"Attack with all our strength and take the Stepstones."

Baelon lowered his eyes.

For the Stepstones alone, Viserys had struggled so hard to reach a decision.