"Make sure that Lord Marbrand receives the raven before the day is out," Loren told the maester of the Silverhill.
"Your Grace, I'm not sure if the raven can travel fast enough before—"
Loren cut him off. "Just see it done. Everything must run faster this time and there is to be no delay in my orders. Is that clear?"
"Yes, You Grace," the maester dipped his head before walking out of the solar.
Loren went though more dispatches in the solar of Lord Serrett, granted to him as a courtesy of his crown. To say that the last moon had been taxing on the King of the Rock would have been an understatement, as the war was shifting in directions that were not favorable to his goals.
While they had achieved victories over the dragons at Riverrun and the Braavosi sellswords crippled their naval strength off of Gulltown, it was evidently not enough to retain the initiative and roll back the dragons from the Westerosi mainland. The dragons still commanded over a sizable force of those from the stormland houses, riverlanders who had remained loyal to them, and those from around the Blackwater Bay. Their host wasn't large enough to mount a major offensive, but it was sufficient for them to halt the progress of those that had adopted the Faith's star.
And now, Loren was receiving distressing reports that the Starks of Winterfell under King Torrhen had crossed the Neck with forty thousand men and had already achieved great victories on their march southwards. Seagard and Raventree Hall were relieved while the Twins, Fairmarket, and the most of the Trident had been brought back under the dragons' fold. The northmen had changed everything, and for the first time since the war had started, those who had adhered to the Faith had to assume the defensive.
But what baffled Loren was why the Starks would even contemplate marching south. The Andals were wiped out to a man when they attempted to fight the First Men in the north, while Theon Stark crossed the narrow sea into Andalos and started his famed campaign to strike at their homelands. All of that was within reason, as no Andal could hope to enter the North by force after Theon Stark's display.
However, Loren was confused as to why Torrhen Stark would consider supporting the dragons. He did hear rumors of his bastard brother, Brandon Snow, and how he had the ability to see into the future, but Loren didn't take stock in such fantastical rumors. What he was very concerned about was the fact that tens of thousands of northmen were now fighting alongside the dragons in the south and given their ability to withstand heavy combat, Loren had to rethink his strategy.
A servant entered his solar. "Your Grace, a Lord Weslar Reyne is here to petition you."
Loren sighed, knowing instantly what the Lord of Castamere wanted to speak with him about. "Very well, send him in."
While keeping his focus on the dispatches, Loren looked up and saw the head of House Reyne stomp into the solar. He was wearing the red lion surcoat and chain mail, but the soot on both of them spoke of his recent involvement in combat.
"Lord Weslar," Loren addressed him. "You look like you've been in quite the fight."
"I was, Your Grace," Lord Reyne answered. "I just came back from a skirmish with Valyrian cavalry, where we were able to barely escape when their black dragon started to rain fire on us."
"And where did this occur?"
"West of Riverrun," Lord Reyne replied. "But the dragons have not committed an organized force to take the castle, but parts of the Red Fork east of it have now fallen back into their control and they're sending out cavalry screens."
"You mean to say that you rode here all the way from Riverrun to tell me this?" Loren put down his dispatches while looking at him with a sense of shock and disappointment. I would have thought that he would remain fighting alongside his troops.
"That's not why I'm here, Your Grace. I've come to intercede on behalf of my son, Bailen."
Loren nodded. "Yes, I received your raven. Did you not receive my response?"
"I did, but I felt that a personal appearance before you would reveal the resolve I have to the well-being of my son."
Loren crossed his arms as he leaned on the back on his chair. "Ser Bailen had one duty, and that was to ensure the security of Casterly Rock. However, several weeks ago, a group of shits in black infiltrated my home, killed some of the guards, and got Orys Baratheon out of captivity. Do you realize how much we've lost without him use as a bargaining tool?"
"I do, Your Grace."
"Then you should understand that there are consequences to your son's incompetence. He failed to prevent one of our most valuable prisoners from being freed and in the process, dozens of my own guards, men I have lived with for years, were killed," Loren outlined.
Loren had heard that one of the men dressed in black was left behind at Casterly Rock, but he was pierced in the back with crossbow bolts and thus could not be moved without causing him more pain. Thus, either Visenya Targaryen or Jaenyx Belaerys tied swords to his hands and this man killed over thirty men in a tight, enclosed space. Even while he was on the ground, his body pierced with many arrows, he kept saying in the common tongue, "Come here, you bastards! Come here and die!" while spitting on them. Some other men were killed when they couldn't let such insults go and it took over forty wounds inflicted on him and a poleaxe that cracked open his head before he finally went down. But even the survivors were still shocked at that man remained fighting even as his body was torn to pieces.
If Jaenys Belaerys has more men like him, then this will truly be a hard fight, even with dragons.
"But does that necessitate my son being thrown in the deepest, darkest cell in Casterly Rock? He was dealing with Jaenyx and Visenya Belaerys themselves, who have proven themselves to be most able in carrying out such actions. And my son is still a member of House Reyne, who—"
"Failed in his duty as Casterly Rock's castellan and is therefore being punished justly for it," Loren interrupted. "You should have trained your son better if you wished for him to avoid imprisonment."
Weslar Reyne moved closer to the table and slammed his hands on it. "Various factors must be taken into account before you come to the decision of imprisoning my son, Your Grace," he said with growing anger. "You expect my son to fight to the death against those who could ride dragons? If I'm not mistaken, our victory at Riverrun came at a heavy cost and there are no viable ways that we can hurt them. So, it is safe that my son performed as best as he could but the circumstances were out of his control."
Loren stood up, fuming. "Are you implying that we will lose against the dragons? You dare speak of such outcomes to your king?"
"I'm merely state the facts, Your Grace," Weslar Reyne kept his eyes on Loren's. "Whatever success we have came at heavy cost and now you're suggesting that my son should've died preventing them from rescuing Orys Baratheon."
"As he should. I am his king and yours, and if he had failed in his obligations as castellan, the only just recompense for his failure would've been death. Be thankful that I am not going to kill him, and the same could be applied to you."
"What do you mean?" Lord Reyne narrowed his eyes.
"You came to defend your son, which is an admirable thing to do as a father, but your first duty is your king, me, and you should have accepted the judgment and continued carrying out your duties against the enemy. I could have you imprisoned for insubordination and thus allow you to have some time with your son in a cell."
"If you do that, then the Reynes would not stand by. They will not fight for you should anything happen to me."
"Is that a threat, Lord Reyne?" Loren's fists tightened.
"I am only saying more facts, Your Grace," Weslar shot back.
Loren wanted nothing more than to arrest the Lord of Castamere for such behavior, but as he accurately said, any action against him would remove the second largest army sworn to House Lannister from the field. At this point in the war, he could not afford any amount of his bannermen to find reasons not to fight for him.
"All right," Loren controlled himself. "I will see to it that Ser Bailen is moved to more suitable quarters, but he shall be kept under lock and key. But don't forget, he still failed in his duty and therefore my decision to remove him as castellan shall stand."
"Hmmm," Weslar let out. "I will agree to that."
"And just so we're clear, if you behave in this manner again, I will have you imprisoned, whether or not I still have your men under my command," Loren promised him. "Don't push me your king so far, or you shall suffer the consequences."
"Understood," Weslar said quietly.
"Now, go." The Lord of Castamere walked out of the solar without another word.
I'm losing my patience with him, Loren thought. He was not going to allow Weslar to have the final say, so he drafted up a message to be sent by raven to Casterly Rock, which outlined his instructions on what had to be done with Ser Bailen. I might have agreed to move him to more proper accommodations, but he's wrong to think that I will fold to his threats.
After going through the dispatches and seeing more petitioners, Loren went outside the walls of Silverhill, where he saw his Ghiscari sellsword, Shaqna zo Rhola, working on another solution to the dragon problem. After the recent setbacks in the riverlands, he directed the Ghiscari to find an alternative way to counter the dragons and zo Rhola developed a large crossbow-like weapon that could fire large bolts at great distance and should have enough power to pierce the flesh of a dragon.
"I trust that everything is developing accordingly, zo Rhola." Approaching the gruff Ghiscari, Loren saw two other men prepare to draw the large crossbow via several levers. They then loaded a massive bolt, topped with a large steel head, that was over twice as long as any man. He was not interested in how zo Rhola developed such a weapon, only if it could work against dragons.
"Yes, King Loren," the Ghiscari answered. "If you like, I can show you a demonstration into the weapon's power."
"I would like an demonstration, zo Rhola," Loren straightened his garments.
"As you wish," zo Rhola nodded before he ordered the men to aim at a cow that had strayed from the Serrett's main herd. Adjusting their aim, zo Rhola gave the order to let loose the bolt.
The bolt not only pierced through the cow, but the force from the bolt cut it in half, its flesh flew in many directions while the bones were cut clean through, and each half of the cow spun around on its two legs before they fell to the ground. The cow's tongue stuck out as its remains spilled blood on the dirt while the bolt was buried deep in the ground.
"Impressive," Loren said. "But can it be used to effect against dragons? I highly doubt that they'll just mull around on the ground like that poor cow you butchered so mercilessly."
"With the power of the bolt as you have just seen, it should be enough to wound a dragon. If we're talking about killing them, that's another issue," zo Rhola stated.
"Then why make this weapon in the first place?" Loren became exasperated. He's waiting my time if he thinks that I want tools that can wound dragons, not kill them.
"King Loren, killing dragons is not a simple process. My own people and the Rhoynish had fought the dragons for thousands of years, and they were subjugated. Do you really think you people have a chance at killing dragons, considering your own backwardness?" zo Rhola retorted.
Loren scoffed. "Is this how you address a king, no less someone who pays you for your services?"
"I must correct you there, King Loren. The Iron Bank pays me, and I'm only part of the deal that you made with them, so my orders come from Braavos, not from you."
"But you are still my guest, and you will fulfill my requests to the best of your abilities."
"And I shall, but I am stating the facts, King Loren. You people do not have a chance against dragons, so the only way that you can fight them is to wound them. If you kill them… then my opinion of this continent will change. And I've read stories of how dragons came here before the Targaryens did, but I don't take much stock in stories."
Loren sighed before he switched topics. "What of your obligations to our cause?"
"I have no obligations, truthfully speaking," zo Rhola answered honestly. "I don't care about your holy war against the dragons. I am only because I am being paid. Anything else, then you're asking the wrong man.
Loren had to appreciate his honesty, but considering their changed circumstances, he was not in the mood to dwell very much on it.
"All right then," Loren bobbed his head. "Do what you can with the weapon you have, but I expect more to made and send your designs to me."
"Will do," zo Rhola assented before he returned to inspect the large crossbow.
Just as Loren was about to reenter the confines of Silverhill, one of his footmen ran up to him. "Your Grace," he dipped his head.
"What is it?"
"Banners approaching from the south, all carrying the green hand and one carrying the ironborn's quartered sigil."
The Gardeners and Darvin Hoare? What are they doing here? "Tell the castle to prepare their arrival and I shall greet them personally."
As the Serrett guards lined the path where the King of the Reach and the ironborn king entered Silverhill, Loren could feel the tension in the air as the three kings were about to face off in the aftermath of the tide shifting in the war. Mern Gardener still looked the same as he was the last time they met at the Arbor, while Loren could see a more… crazed gaze in Darvin Hoare's eyes. If it weren't for the fact that he's contributing, I would have killed him for starting this mess.
"Your Graces," Loren addressed them both.
"Your Grace," Mern Gardener addressed Loren with respect.
"King Loren," Darvin Hoare greeted him, but with more levity than was allowed for meetings such as this.
"This is an unexpected surprise," Loren said. "I would have thought that you were still in Highgarden, and that you were still on your ship, King Darvin."
"Yes, but as the situation has changed, we must rethink our strategy before we can continue on. We have to do something to regain the advantage," Mern answered.
"Of course. Please follow me," Loren gestured to them.
As the three kings settled in Lord Serrett's solar, Loren waited for one of them to start. From what he had learned from how nobles and rulers treated one another, the first to talk was usually the one with the most to lose. And he was certainly not going to reveal weakness on his part.
"Your Graces," Darvin Hoare began. Of course he would start. He has the most to lose out of all of us. "I must confess that the recent setbacks in especially the riverlands has gotten me… apprehensive. Torrhen Stark has marched southwards and the dragons now have an ally capable of fighting all of us on equal terms."
"Speak for yourself, King Darvin," Mern said. "It is true that the men of the North fighting alongside the dragons causes much complications, but they are still outnumbered the forces we can muster. I still command thirty thousand men, all of them fresh and eager to begin fighting for the Seven."
"With respect, King Mern," Loren joined in. "Numbers might help, but the men of the North are known to be hardy warriors. They've endured harsher conditions than all of us could and just like your thirty thousand men, their forty thousand are fresh despite being involved in a few battles already. But that's not the concerning part."
"What would that be, King Loren?" Mern cocked his head, listening closely.
"It is a known fact that the Old Gods are still worshipped in the North, with the Manderlys being the only exception. And with the recent lifting of the siege of Raventree Hall, this war has now taken on a new form. The sides have now been divided between those that follow the Faith and those that don't. The Andals against the First Men and the Valyrians. Essentially, the minority against the majority of Westeros."
"And your point being?" Darvin grew impatient.
Loren had to suppress his growing annoyance at the ironborn. "It'll only be a matter of time before those who were in the minority start to have ideas about joining the other side. Those that were long cut out from the major decisions and power and there are those who wish to supplant us. Those are the enemies that are now facing us, because the Valyrians and the First Men of the North represent a good opportunity for those that were below us to begin to rise against us."
"And you think that if we defeat them, we'll be able to retain our power and authority?" Mern caught on.
"Exactly. We still have a strong army and fleets to counter the dragons and the North. Riverlords who remain on our side, the lords of the Reach, the ironborn, the lords sworn to House Lannister, and the lords of the Vale. Led by myself, Queen Regent Sharra Arryn, and you two. While the riverlands being retaken does cause complications, we still have a force to challenge the dragons and the northmen."
Mern tapped his fingers on the table in thought. "But what of our losses so far? My son Edmund has reported many casualties whenever he tried to penetrate the defenses that Argella Durrandon has cleverly propped up, which is a surprise given that she has no military experience. As for you, King Loren, you and your riverlord turncoats lost thousands of men to the dragons and the troops under King Torrhen. The Citadel said that we must prepare for the coming of winter soon and that we might only get to enjoy four more harvests at the most before the crops turn, so we cannot afford more losses."
Loren frowned. "The stormlords were not known for their martial abilities for nothing, and many of the men who had fought for King Argilac are now fighting for Argella Durrandon and Orys Baratheon, so their prowess in battle has not been dulled. As for the losses that I have incurred, allow me to remind you that I still have tens of thousands more to call upon and that I still control Riverrun, meaning that I have not lost."
"Now that we're on the topic of Orys Baratheon, let's discuss your most significant setback." Loren cursed himself, as word of the raid at Casterly Rock travelled fast, with the news hitting both Highgarden and the Eyrie like comets. Loren remembered both of their ravens as they demanded an explanation of why that had happened. No one demands anything of me. "I heard about your scheme to have Lord Baratheon annul his marriage to Argella Durrandon and revealing our plans in regards to what will happen after we win in the process. While I am flattered that you would go to such lengths to help my house, it could be said that you only jeopardized such a plan by trying to make him sign those documents under duress. Moreover, I hear that you tortured him. I personally don't care much for bastards, but you torturing the man who had taken Argilac's place over the stormlords lends the dragons some moral authority, as they can claim that your actions were the result of you letting your whims take control over your actions."
Loren glared at Mern. "You'd be wise as to not say anything further than that, King Mern." Pausing, he turned to look the younger and more unrestrained ironborn king in the eye. "But since we're talking about failure, let's talk about yours. You know what the dragons did to your father and brothers at Harrenhal. I don't know what you thought to gain by attacking their home and thus bringing them to the mainland, but also know that this whole war is your fault. You wanted to line your pockets and act as all ironborn do, and look where that got your house. Jaenyx Belaerys and the Targaryens burned much of your family to ashes, making them mere black corpses and driving your house to the point of extinction. If you think about, it's only you that can carry on your family name. Your uncle at the Wall can't do anything, so with your stupidity, you just doomed House Hoare. Have you considered that, King Darvin?"
Eyes narrowing, there was silence as Darvin stewed on Loren's words. Any rebuttal was delayed, as his words made him think even for a moment how his actions jeopardized House Hoare. "I'm an ironborn, as you say. The Drowned God demands of us to live a certain way and I intend to do so. What I did with the dragons and what I have done now was merely the Drowned God dictating our lives, so you cannot judge me for living differently than you."
Frustration welling inside him, Loren willed himself to be calm. The same unfaltering control that had allowed him to retain his crown amongst those who sought to usurp him, with the Reynes being at the top of the list of potential threats. "You really think that we give a damn about your Drowned God?" Darvin became incensed. "Maybe that's why your family's hold on the riverlands so easily slipped from your fingers. You treated the riverlords like slaves and they defected at the first opportunity. And considering what you tried to do to the dragons, you really believe that everything will go back to the way it was? For you, it won't be."
Darvin stood up. "You promised that you would return the riverlands to my control, but you never allowed any of my men to enter during your brief occupation."
"Now you know why," Loren answered back. "And do you think that I would even think to trust you? I hear reports of your captains and crewmen causing ruckuses in Oldtown, the Arbor, and Lannisport everyday. It seems you can't even control your own troops, and you expect us to fight to get your lands back? If you think so, then you're a bigger fool than I thought."
Darvin moved to withdraw his axe, but then he heard creaking outside of the door. Before Loren entered, he had cautioned the guards to stand vigilantly outside of the solar in case the ironborn tried to harm him or King Mern. If he tries to harm us, I'm giving you permission to kill him, were Loren's words.
Sensing what was waiting for him outside of the good, Darvin calmed down as he put his hand away from the axe and sat down. "I thought we had a deal, Your Graces."
"I must side with King Loren in this regard," Mern joined in. "Lord Hightowers has sent me a string of grave concerns regarding the conduct of your captains. While I am still wishing for your our alliance to continue, you must get your men in line. If you don't, it'll only spell disaster for all of us."
"All of you, you mean," Darvin spat. "As I said, myself and my men are behaving as decreed by the Drowned God and I won't stop my men from doing what they've been doing for as long as ironborn existed."
"Then you're showing yourself incapable of fulfilling your end of the bargain," Mern answered. "Also, the Starry Sept complained to me that you turned away the septons who were trying to convert your people to the Seven while acting indecently in the septs of the places you caused trouble in. You promised to allow the Faith to conduct its activities, but you're not allowing them to."
"That wasn't me," Darvin denied. "That's probably my men showing their displeasure at the thought of worshiping your Seven. But I wouldn't blame them." Why did we allow him to fight alongside us? "If you will excuse me, I think I will go back to tend to my men." Darvin Hoare stood up, giving the two kings a scowl before he grunted hard and stomped off, leaving the two kings to discuss their business without the ironborn.
"I have had it with him," Loren pointed to the where Darvin sat.
"I agree with your concerns, King Loren," Mern nodded. "But let us move past the ironborn problem." He pulled out a letter from his tunic. "This is from the Starry Sept, signed by the High Septon himself. In it are contents which would be of great concern for you."
As Loren took the letter from Mern's hands, he opened it and read what the High Septon said to him:
"To Loren Lannister, First of His Name, Lord of Casterly Rock, King of the Rock and Marshal of the Faith,
The recent turnarounds in the riverlands are of a most unfortunate nature. With the entry of the First Men of the North and by extension the last bastion of the Old Gods into the war, we have now entered a new phase of our holy cause against the dragons.
I have been in prayer with the Father and after much meditation and reflection on the matter, I have decided to appoint Mern Gardener, Ninth of His Name, Lord of Highgarden, and King of the Reach as Marshal of the Faith and grant him authority in all matters related to the war effort. You will be allowed to keep your title as Marshal of the Faith, but you will no longer hold sole authority over those who chose to declare themselves representatives of the Warrior.
I have also received word from the Citadel that all of us should prepare for coming of winter after four harvests, but with the end of the harvests ends the nourishment our holy soldiers rely on. Therefore, on command of the Father, this war should end soon and I believe that the involvement of King Mern in all matters of the war effort would quicken our holy cause to its glorious conclusion.
I look forward to our great victory and I shall anoint the holy oils of the gods when the incestuous abominations have been wiped out.
Seven blessings,
The High Septon
As Loren finished reading, he noticed how big of a smile Mern wore on his face. Setting the letter down, he realized something.
"You had the High Septon give you authority over our troops," Loren put it together.
"I had nothing to do with what the gods told the High Septon to command," Mern denied.
"Oh, come now. You used my setbacks in the riverlands in order to get more control over the war from me. You arranged for this to happen," Loren pointed his finger at him.
"Maybe, maybe not," Mern shrugged. "But considering your failures, it's time for new leadership to enter our army's command. And therefore, I propose my first action as Marshal of the Faith."
"What would that be?" Loren doubted that the King of the Reach could come up with a solution to their mess.
"I propose that my son, Gawen, lead an attack into the heart of the enemy, the Blackwater Bay."
Loren became interested. "Go on."
"We will get nowhere with attacking the lands closest to them. We tried that with the stormlands, and the same with the riverlands. However, we haven't contemplated attacking near their home."
Loren crossed his arms. "Okay. How would you propose that we carry out this attack?"
"As I said, I still have thirty thousand men who are fresh and eager for battle. My son Gawen will lead twenty thousand men in an attack on the Blackwater Bay, more specifically their citadel on Blackwater Rush and the secondary objectives being Duskendale, Rosby, and Stokeworth. If we can take the Blackwater Bay, at least the ones with the most importance, then we split the dragons' lands into two. We thus control the Blackwater Rush and limit their movement to the riverlands and the stormlands," Mern explained.
In all honesty, Loren judged the plan as bold and full of sense. "Is Gawen Gardener qualified to lead such an attack?"
"You wound me, King Loren," Mern said while being lightly filled with hurtfulness. "Edmund is the more politically savvy of my sons, but Gawen is the warrior of us. He can ride a horse better than any man than I know and had participated in more tourneys than I ever did. He is also very good at commanding cavalry, which is an ideal background for someone leading an attack of this size."
Loren wanted to show his concern for entrusting a tourney knight, even though he was prince, with such a responsibility. However, given that they were equals at the moment, he kept such concerns to himself since Mern had the ear of the High Septon. While he couldn't care less about what that old bastard thought, some of his lords did and there was no way he could afford to antagonize them.
"Very well. I consent to this plan," Loren nodded. It was the best plan that they had at the moment. "I shall send five thousand of my cavalry to assist your son. I pray that the attack would provide us with many dividends."
"It will," Mern replied with confidence.
Before they could retire, a servant entered. "Your Graces, a letter, from Dragonstone."
Dragonstone? Loren snatched the letter from the servant's hand and dismissed him from the solar.
"What do the dragons have to say to us?"
Loren was also curious, as he unfolded the letter and read it aloud:
"To all the Kings and Lords of the Seven Kingdoms,
You have decided to wage war upon us for the simple reason of us being Valyrian. You hate our customs, you hate our lineage, and most importantly, you resent the fact that we have control over dragons, something only those of our bloodline can do.
Such an action has compelled us to rethink our position in Westeros. Four kingdoms stand against us, while two have either been subjugated or have decided to stand alongside us. Should our enemies triumph, we will see our family killed and our people subjected to suffer. As caretakers of our people, we cannot allow that to happen.
To ensure our own survival as a people and culture, from this day forward, we now lay claim to a new throne, a new crown. One that shall rule over all of Westeros and usher in an age where the glories of Valyria could live on.
However, we do not seek to accomplish this alone. Through a representative of the Old Gods, we have received their blessing to become rulers over all of Westeros and to help the ways of the First Men return to these lands. Through this pact, a Pact of Ice and Fire, we shall be united in changing Westeros for the better. Our reign will start a period of peace in these lands, where the squabbling between kings and lords would end and all need only be loyal to one king.
We welcome any who wish to join us and help bring about a new era to Westeros. Should you swear fealty to House Targaryen and House Belaerys, you shall be allowed to keep your lands, your titles, and allow the survival of your house. And you shall enjoy the confidence and goodwill of our people after we triumph against our enemies and make all seven kingdoms into one.
To those who seek our ruin, fire and blood will rain upon you, and may your gods give you death before dishonor, for that is the best that you can hope for.
For the unity of Westeros and the start of a new age.
Signed,
Aegon of House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of All Westeros, Shield of His People
Rhaenys of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of All Westeros, Shield of Her People
Visenya of House Targaryen and House Belaerys, Princess of Sphinx Rest and of Westeros, Sword of Her People
Jaenyx of House Belaerys, Prince of Sphinx Rest and of Westeros, Sword of His People
But what caught Loren's attention was how each name had its own distinct style, as if all four had signed their names on the declaration. If that's the case, then the dragons are truly united and they share power with each other despite the differing titles. What baffled him more was the name "Sphinx Rest." Where's Sphinx Rest?
Mern scoffed. "Oh, they're declaring themselves ruler over all of Westeros? The nerve on them."
Loren pursed his lips. "But that doesn't make it any less threatening. They're offering those who would join them confirmation of their titles and lands in addition to others rewards while promising destruction upon those that don't. With their dragons, they can certainly carry out that out. Which will make your plan to use Gawen all the more necessary."
Mern raised his eyebrow. "Necessary?"
"I am sure that all of the major rulers of Westeros have received this letter. The longer they continue to claim rulership over all of us, the more likely people will believe it. We have to strike now and bring them to their knees before that happens. If we don't, our crowns, our kingdoms will be shaken," Loren laid it out for him.
Mern rubbed his chin. "All right. I'll send a raven to Highgarden and inform my son that he will lead the attack. And I expect you to stand by your promise to send your cavalry to assist my son."
"I shall," Loren reassured. As Mern left the solar, Loren pondered on whom he could send to assist Gawen Gardener. He could have gone with either the Westerlings, the Marbrands, or the Crakehalls, but they were among his most loyal houses and he needed their strength for later battles.
That's when he decided to choose the Reynes. Writing a message quickly, Loren wrote to Weslar Reyne that he required most of his cavalry, three thousand strong, to assist him while he would get the Serrets and Kayces to contribute what was left of their cavalry to assist the Reynes.
Knowing that Weslar Reyne would become a threat that would grow out of control, Loren decided that if he couldn't get the Reynes' absolute loyalty, he would thus weaken them. Maybe the dragons would do the work for me. As for the Serrets and Kayces, they were defeated and would thus no longer in Loren's close confidence in regards to battle. They were now only useful for the amount of troops that they could still muster.
Sending the ravens out, he admittedly felt some anxiety over the next few weeks. While Gawen Gardener's attack would be bold, there was a small chance that it could fail and thus further threatening his hold on his kingdom. Thousands of years of Lannister rule would fall to nothing if they didn't deal with the dragons soon.
I'll just have to show them that playing a king and queen is different than knowing what it is to be such after many thousands of years, something that they know nothing of.
As for Darvin Hoare, he sent another raven to Lannisport, warning his relative to keep watch for any ironborn that might come to attack.
When this is over, I shall put the head of the last Hoare on a spike.