Rhaegar spurred his horse, galloping from the Dragonpit camp back to the Red Keep.
His knightly retinue followed close behind.
The King's squire was terrified, his face pale; the matter must be extremely serious.
The mere name "Maidenpool" cast a shadow over Rhaegar's heart.
The Darklyn family of Maidenpool had declined into a second or third-rate house; with the rise of King's Landing, few cared what happened there.
Rhaegar strode into the Small Council chamber to find the atmosphere already dreadful, with gloom hanging over everyone's face.
Almost all the White Knights were assembled, weapons in hand, eyes sharp.
The scene in the room was unusual: a haggard Queen Rhaella was present, but Crown Prince Aerys, the Master of Ships, was missing.
Rhaegar's heart skipped a beat.
His gaze swept over the great lords, whose once glorious and proud faces were now twisted with anger, hatred, or fear.
A map of Maidenpool lay on the table; this second-rate port had never attracted so much attention before.
"Sit, Rhaegar. The Darklyn family has risen in rebellion. They have captured your father," King Jaehaerys said hurriedly.
Rhaegar realized the Darklyns truly hated the Iron Throne; they would have rebelled regardless, and now they held his father. Had the wheel of fate turned early?
"Ser, you escaped from Maidenpool—report," the King ordered a weathered young man: Ser Rykker, an enemy of House Darklyn who had fled to King's Landing with the news.
"Lord Denys is young but insatiably greedy. He took a Myrish woman named the 'Lace Serpent' as his mistress and soon exhausted his wealth. Recalling Maidenpool's past prosperity, he demanded the right to set his own tariffs. The Small Council rejected his request only days ago, but Denys's greed intensified. When Crown Prince Aerys sailed along the coast to collect stone for the Dragonpit, the Darklyns lured him ashore, killed a Kingsguard and many guards, and demanded the King accept their terms."
"Damn Myr again—those filthy apes and their schemes!" Lord Ormund's face flushed red. Westerosi hated Myr and Lys; their customs clashed, and more than one Targaryen prince had died by their blades.
"They murdered a Kingsguard, kidnapped the Prince of Dragonstone, and dare to make demands?" King Jaehaerys was livid; kidnapping alone was treason, yet they demanded concessions.
Rhaegar silently mourned for Aerys, and also for House Darklyn; treason would wipe them off the board completely. Speed was critical: imprisonment would destroy a man's will, and with Maidenpool so close, any sign of weakness would encourage other lords.
"They want the Iron Throne to grant Maidenpool the right to determine its own customs, repeal all of Aegon V's laws limiting noble privileges, and allow the Darklyn family to lead an autonomous council, granting the town independence. That Myrish witch poured poison in his ear," Ser Rykker added in a low voice.
"Another Myrish," Rhaegar thought; Lord Denys and his Lace Serpent were a perfect match.
No spies had ever gone to Maidenpool, and no one expected Denys to be so reckless—too young, too easily forgotten.
Denys dreamed of the days before King's Landing was built, when Maidenpool was prosperous. His Myrish mistress whispered of the freedom of the Free Cities: Your petty demands are nothing.
"Treason! But how did the Prince fall into such an obvious trap?" Lord Ormund roared.
Lord Tywin glanced at Rhaegar. "The Prince wanted to find stone for Prince Rhaegar's Dragonpit. The Darklyns offered stone for free to lure Aerys in—he took only a small escort. The moment he landed, the trap was sprung; Ser Gwayne died protecting him."
Rhaegar remained silent. Getting stone was a minor task, but Aerys had treated it as a great mission—and walked blindly into a trap.
"Fool! He is no dragon, he is a goose! I wish I were a farmer so I could crack his skull with a spoon!" King Jaehaerys burned with rage. He was already squeezing the nobles, and now this happens.
"Father," Queen Rhaella interrupted in panic, "The Kingsguard is wiped out—is Aerys safe?"
The King was speechless; the Darklyns had killed Ser Gwayne and taken the Prince prisoner.
"Summon the Royal Fleet, the Red Keep garrison, and all loyal lords—attack by land and sea!" Lord Ormund announced.
"I can move out immediately," Rhaegar said. "Four hundred swordsmen, every one a battle-hardened veteran."
The rebellion had to be crushed swiftly and severely; delay would break Aerys and destroy the Crown's prestige.
"Maidenpool has strong walls, the Darklyn keep guards the harbor, and they hold the Prince hostage," Lord Tywin warned. The cautious commander who had drowned Castamere always prioritized security, and his words silenced the room.
"I suggest sending two forces—one to contain them, one to strike them," Rhaegar said, his eyes on the map.
"Explain," King Jaehaerys ordered.
"Feign negotiations, while a second team infiltrates to rescue my father," Rhaegar answered.
The hostage was their only leverage; once his father was safe, Maidenpool stood alone.
"Let me enter Maidenpool and bring the Prince out. Give me one day," Ser Barristan said.
Rhaegar met his gaze; of all the White Knights, only Barristan possessed both courage and wisdom—true steel.
"I am willing to negotiate with Lord Denys—or take my father's place," Rhaegar proposed.
Queen Rhaella protested: she could not lose both son and husband.
"Too dangerous, Prince Rhaegar. We cannot risk both heirs in Maidenpool," Lord Tywin pleaded. A disguised rescue was one thing; sending a second royal hostage to negotiate was madness.
"My youth is my disguise, but my sword is sharp!" Rhaegar drew his sword, pointing the tip at Maidenpool on the map.
"Let the Prince negotiate after I am inside. I will muddy the waters first," Ser Barristan suggested—a sound idea.
No one spoke; the plan might work.
"Once Aerys is free, take the city. Every Darklyn involved and their kin shall die, as a warning to others." King Jaehaerys swore with burning eyes. He had been lenient enough; the Iron Throne must not be desecrated.
The plan was set—hammer and anvil.