As Kal read the letters, Brynden spoke alongside him, adding the intelligence he had gathered.
Kal did not answer, but his brows drew tighter the further he read.
The first letter was of little concern. It was Robert asking after his affairs in the Eyrie, urging him to resolve them quickly and then send troops in support.
The matters at the Eyrie Kal would certainly report to Robert—there was nothing unusual about that. The letter must have been written not long after he left the Eyrie, which made it of little importance now.
At that time, the Stark forces roaming the Riverlands likely had not yet even caught sight of the Lannister host.
The second letter, however, was from the lords of the Vale.
And the tidings it carried were troubling.
Once the lords had returned to their own lands, they discovered that across the Narrow Sea, some true movements seemed to be stirring.
Not only were ships of mercenary companies appearing frequently in the ports, as though scouting, but reports claimed even the Free Cities themselves were beginning to rouse their armies.
With the tension mounting, Bronze Yohn and the others had no choice but to close the ports.
Only merchant vessels carrying essential supplies were permitted to pass in or out each day, to guard against sudden raids.
Warships were also dispatched into their waters to keep constant watch on the movements across the Narrow Sea.
This was one part of the crucial intelligence.
The other part concerned the question of sending reinforcements to fight the Lannisters of the west.
That was the heart of the matter.
When Kal had been at the Eyrie, he had, in the name of Warden of the East, ordered the lords to return home, gather further supplies, and send additional troops.
Now, with the situation across the Narrow Sea shifting, it had played directly into the preparations Kal had made in advance.
Beyond the necessary defenses, a host of nearly seven thousand men had marched out once they had stockpiled sufficient strategic supplies.
This, at least, had not caused any unforeseen problems.
Reading this far, Kal felt some relief. He lifted his head and looked toward Brynden.
"What of Maidenpool? Have the Vale's reinforcements for the war arrived yet?"
After finishing the letter, Kal calculated the time—it ought to be around now.
"The Mootons of Maidenpool had already received word long ago. Lord William Mooton was fully prepared to receive the host. The port of Maidenpool even suspended a large number of non-military tasks for this purpose.
"As for the Vale host, they should already have arrived—though no letter has yet come."
Hearing Kal's question, Brynden gave this simple explanation of Maidenpool's situation.
Kal pondered a moment, then nodded, somewhat reassured.
Next, he took up the last letter—the only one left unopened.
"When did this arrive?" he asked as he broke the seal and began to read.
"Three days ago," Brynden replied.
Then he saw it—Kal Stone's hand, steady as he read, suddenly trembled. Even his face darkened with anger.
"What has happened?"
Brynden's brows shot up as he asked the question instinctively.
"Damn it… Tywin Lannister actually found a way to bog down Lord Eddard Stark's northern host on the battlefield."
Kal's eyes never left the parchment, but curses poured from his mouth.
"He secretly planted a hidden force under Kevan Lannister, lying in wait upriver along the Blackwater."
"No wonder he kept fighting and retreating in turn, neither giving battle nor falling back, stringing the northern host along."
"And now this army he deliberately concealed has struck into King's Landing—seizing the city completely. No, worse—Tywin Lannister has taken all the people of King's Landing as his hostages!"
The more Kal read, the faster his eyes moved, his mind racing to turn the words into reality. He spoke without pause, his words spilling out faster and faster, while Brynden, Robert, and Sam could scarcely keep up.
"The movements reported outside Gulltown weren't by chance. They were a smokescreen to mislead the Vale."
"Because the fleet of Dragonstone has already clashed at sea with the mercenary fleets, Stannis Baratheon himself is now trapped, unable to break free."
"With the royal fleet still being rebuilt, it has nothing like the fighting power once wielded under the Targaryens. As a result, the mercenary companies' ships have driven Stannis back to Dragonstone once again—and now they have besieged him there."
"The war itself hasn't escalated. They don't seem to want all-out battle—only to delay or probe."
As Kal spoke, his finger traced the lines of the letter, quickly summarizing the situation on Dragonstone.
"The rest of the news is uncertain. The naval situation is impossible to grasp—we don't even know if other mercenary fleets have slipped past the Dragonstone ships to land on the mainland."
"Damn it!"
"My guess is, this isn't only mercenary companies at work. They don't have that kind of mobilization capacity—unless mountains of gold are piled behind them!"
"It's been too long—three, four months without movement. Why strike now, all of a sudden?"
Kal's voice grew louder the more he spoke, the weight in his eyes deepening.
"And then there's Lord Renly Baratheon, returning to Storm's End to summon his bannermen from the Stormlands. But he's delayed—what in the seven hells is he doing?"
Without waiting for Brynden's questions, Kal paced a few steps in place, raising his head to stare out the window, frowning as he sorted the details he had read.
"A Dornish host led by Oberyn Martell was blocked by Lord Randyll Tarly's forces, refusing them passage through the Reach."
"But then this Dornish host turned toward the Stormlands instead?"
"Because their route was strange, and to guard against ulterior motives, Renly Baratheon had no choice but to send an army to intercept them."
"But just as they were still negotiating, Dragonstone erupted into this crisis, and Renly had no choice but to march on toward King's Landing, while also guarding his coastline to keep mercenary fleets across the Narrow Sea from landing."
At the sudden mention of his father's name, Samwell—standing beside Kal in the small castle—was taken aback. His mind instinctively turned over Kal Stone's words, only then realizing his father had once again thrown himself into the middle of great events.
"From one front to two—Renly Baratheon cannot be everywhere at once."
Unaware of Samwell's expression, Kal ground his teeth as he spoke, his eyes dark with gloom.
"The Vale host has fallen into the trap. No—rather, they've been forced into this course."
"Damn it, Tywin Lannister—this old lion has actually drawn in outsiders to meddle in our internal war. What is he plotting?!"
"And according to the reports, the Tyrell host of the Reach and the fleet of Hightower have also clashed off Casterly Rock and Lannisport with fleets from the Iron Islands."
"The Ironborn even raided, plundered, and slaughtered the people of the coastal towns—Fair Isle among them."
"Now their fleet lingers offshore, not retreating, not committing to battle, dragging out the standoff while making it clear they're ready to swallow the Westerlands whole."
"In other words—on the battlefield now, we've somehow become the only free side left?"
Kal's words came out between clenched teeth, his analysis cutting to the heart of the shifting war.
Somehow, Tywin Lannister had turned what seemed a dead end into a living game, and in the same stroke seized the city no one had thought to guard—King's Landing, suddenly made the fulcrum of all.
Kal had no way of knowing what turn events would take next.
But judging from the current situation—the Stark host had marched thousands of kilometers south. Not only were their supply lines stretched unbearably thin, but from the start Tywin had fought while retreating, dangling them along as though they were just about to take a bite of meat.
And then, with this sudden eruption of events,
The struggle had shifted into a true duel—Tywin Lannister's host alone against the Stark host.
As for the Riverlands, their strength was negligible.
Months of Tywin's delaying tactics and relentless raiding had left them devastated, with no real power to muster.
And the armies that should have been able to support and surround him had likewise been thrown into chaos.
First, the Vale—had it not been Kal who came, the mess they created would have been enough to push their heavily armed lords into outright rebellion.
Kal had only just managed to settle that chaos, but now part of the Vale's usable strength was tied up by the turmoil across the Narrow Sea.
Then came the two Baratheon brothers.
Stannis Baratheon was bogged down by the crisis across the Narrow Sea. He had not been defeated, but for now he was powerless to concern himself with anything else.
And Renly Baratheon—leaving aside the question of how he even slipped out of King's Landing, the ambiguous stance of Dorne alone forced him to guard against Dornish armies.
On top of that, with Dragonstone in turmoil, he was forced to split his strength between fronts.
And the Reach—well, from the moment they received Robert's call to arms and rushed westward toward the Lannister heartlands, the picture had been clear enough.
But now even they had been ensnared, dragged into the feast by the sudden arrival of the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands.
None of them truly wanted a full-scale battle, but each one stared at the prize before them, drooling, unwilling to back away.
And so, in this hollowed state on all sides, Tywin Lannister still had the power and the cunning to seize the key city of King's Landing.
Or rather—it had been part of the old lion's plan from the very beginning.
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