Once the two men had finished the necessary exchange of noble courtesies, Yohn Royce cut in without waiting.
"Lord Kal, you've finally arrived. How is Lord Arryn?" Lord Royce asked, his gaze drifting toward the warship that had not yet docked behind Kal.
Seeing the old man ask after his lord the moment he arrived, Kal only shrugged and answered casually, "The Blackfish is taking good care of him. No need to worry—he looks healthier now."
"How long have you been here?"
Kal was not surprised at Yohn Royce's questioning.
But when it came to the matter of Robert Arryn, Kal said no more.
He had no intention of sharing the suspicions in his heart with these lords of the Vale.
In these troubled times, it was best to focus on the war at hand before anything else.
Noticing Kal's unwillingness to linger on the subject, Yohn Royce did not press further. Hearing that Robert Arryn was well was enough; he also understood that now was hardly the time to dwell on such matters.
"Barely two days."
Kal Stone had scarcely arrived when he asked about the state of the war, and Yohn Royce, following his lead, quickly turned the conversation to business.
Frowning slightly, he continued, "Lord Kal, we already know what happened in King's Landing. What we want to know is—has the king or the Hand made any preparations or arrangements regarding this?"
Seeing the old man's urgency, Lord William Mooton—who had only just stepped forward to greet the new Warden of the East and make his presence known—could only slink awkwardly to the side.
Kal raised a hand to him in apology, a gesture of greeting, before moving on.
Without regard for the fact that they were still on the docks, Kal walked forward, his expression grave as he spoke.
"There are arrangements. But the orders given to me by the king and the Hand are to lead our forces to relieve King's Landing."
Kal spoke offhandedly.
Yet scarcely had his words fallen when several lesser lords and knights who had accompanied Yohn Royce began to mutter among themselves.
"What? What kind of command is that?!"
"We don't have the numbers! King's Landing won't be so easily taken."
"Besides, Tywin Lannister has clearly turned the entire city into a hostage for his negotiations!"
"Not negotiations—threats."
"Even so, it's not enough. Ser Barristan led the army out of King's Landing, and then Kevan Lannister seized the chance to take it."
"There were traitors within King's Landing itself. Janos Slynt cannot escape blame!"
"Who knows—he might have been the traitor himself! Hmph, some of his deeds are no secret!"
As the argument broke out, voices rose in a storm of accusations, all aimed at what had happened in King's Landing.
Just then, Jon Arryn and the others, having only stepped down from their ship and followed Kal onto the dock, looked over curiously.
They did not fully understand the situation in King's Landing, but judging from the angry debate, it was plainly no good news.
Seeing the quarrel grow ever fiercer, Yohn Royce, who had just caught up with Kal, could only turn back and glare at them.
As an elder, his authority was still not insignificant.
Silencing the noisy voices, Yohn Royce finally turned his gaze to Kal.
"I believe we can do it. We will not betray the king's trust. Lord Kal, when shall we depart?"
Compared to the others—venting anger at their helplessness and struggling to adapt to sudden change—Yohn Royce appeared far steadier, more confident.
It was clear he had already considered such a situation in his own mind.
Yet, despite Lord Royce's initiative, Kal did not slow his pace. He only shook his head slightly.
"My view may differ from yours, Lord Yohn Royce," Kal said, without even turning his head.
Seeing that Kal seemed unwilling to follow the king's command, Yohn Royce frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean, Lord Kal?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.
At this answer, even the large group gathered on the dock looked at Kal with puzzled expressions.
Hearing the footsteps behind him halt, Kal stopped as well.
Turning back, he met the questioning gazes.
Kal wasted no words, fixing his eyes on Lord Yohn Royce and speaking directly: "Lord Royce, tell me—what is more important? To march to the rescue of King's Landing, or to defeat Tywin Lannister here in the Riverlands?"
"Or rather—Tywin Lannister has chosen this method to win for himself so-called fairness and opportunity. But what is it he truly seeks?"
Kal's series of questions pulled Yohn into thought.
But Kal did not stop there; he pressed further.
"The Lannisters descend from the marriage of Andal adventurers and a daughter of the ancient Kings of Casterly Rock. Their rule ended with the Conquest."
"And even when King Robert took the Iron Throne, the Lannisters remained Wardens of the West."
"So have you considered why Tywin Lannister would wager the wealth of his house, accumulated over a thousand years?"
"From what I know, Lord Tywin Lannister has always placed the continuation of his line above all else. So if he is willing to cast aside everything, to stake it all on the table—what does he truly seek?"
"If we fail to understand this question, I fear we will fall into his trap yet again."
Kal poured out all the concerns he had pondered along the way, and was met with silence.
Following his reasoning, all present began to realize the problem was not so simple.
It was not even a matter of choosing one side over the other.
"So by your words, King's Landing isn't really that important," one knight said, having misunderstood, taking Kal's meaning at face value.
But as soon as he spoke, strange looks turned toward him.
"No," Kal replied at once. "King's Landing is just as important—perhaps even more than we imagine!"
At this, the crowd stiffened again. They exchanged uneasy glances. Even Yohn Royce looked puzzled—was there some deeper truth they had overlooked?
Thinking of the situation at hand, he could not help but feel that perhaps… there was indeed something to it.
After all, when King Robert Baratheon had suddenly declared war on House Lannister of the Westerlands a few months ago, there had been no one who thought well of the Lannisters' chances.
And yet, here they were today.
Tywin Lannister—the old lion whose name had always been bound to ruthlessness—had, in the midst of such dire straits, clawed open the narrowest of gaps. He had even managed to turn the entire situation, once so fatally against him, back into a balance too subtle to put into words.
On the surface, the war now even seemed to carry the faint shape of a stalemate.
And from this very moment, for the first time, the Baratheon dynasty itself seemed to teeter on the brink of peril.
With only a few words, Kal had thrown the gathering into silence.
That silence endured all the way until Kal led them into the great hall of the Mooton castle at Maidenpool. Only after everyone took their seats did they gradually return to themselves.
All bore grave expressions, unable to believe that what had begun as a simple campaign to punish rebellion had unfolded into such a state of affairs.
Within the hall, Kal took his place without hesitation, standing before the head seat as though it was his due.
His eyes were fixed on the large map spread across the long table, upon which wooden carvings of various forms had been set to mark armies and holdings.
Lord William Mooton, master of the castle, sat quietly at the very end of the table, his presence hardly noticeable—almost as though the proceedings before him had nothing to do with him.
Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly stood behind Kal, one to each side, their gazes likewise drawn to the map on the table.
Kal swept his eyes across the marked positions, silently calculating and committing key information to memory.
Then he lifted his head toward the two maesters standing nearby.
"What is the situation on Dragonstone? Do we have any more detailed reports? In the letters sent to me I only found fragments."
Even as he studied the map before him, Kal's attention was not upon the battles already at hand, but upon the extent to which foreign powers were beginning to involve themselves.
Especially on Dragonstone.
On the surface, the fleet of Dragonstone led by Stannis Baratheon seemed to have little to do with these events—merely caught up in them by chance.
Yet to Kal's eyes, this was precisely where Tywin Lannister, that old lion, had found his chance to turn the tables.
For though it was said that the mercenary companies were clashing only with Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone, and the war itself could hardly be called intense, even this slight and unexpected involvement had bound up not only Dragonstone's strength, but also some portion of the Vale's forces, and part of Renly Baratheon's Stormlands host as well.
Through such entanglements, nearly all the strength of the East that could have been mobilized was crippled.
This, then, was the key point that held Kal's attention.
In answer to the Warden of the East's order, the maesters hastily brought forth a bundle of letters.
Kal's expression grew grave as he opened them one by one, scanning them quickly.
In his five years among the Free Cities, though he had wandered more in the guise of a sellsword than in true service, learning of their lands and peoples, he had come to know well the true fighting power of the great mercenary companies.
To name only one—the Golden Company—their strength in battle was in no way inferior to that of the mightiest great houses, save perhaps the Wardens of the North and East.
As for lesser houses, even one such as the Boltons of the Dreadfort could not compare.
If it came purely to martial force, the Golden Company stood above them.
And what was more, in this war Robert had roused against the Westerlands, the mercenary companies joining from across the sea were not one or two, but many.
Kal did not know what price Tywin had offered to win them over.
Whether cessions of land, payments of gold, or some other promise—none of it mattered until he prevailed.
But therein lay the problem.
Why had these companies believed that Tywin could truly pay the price they demanded, rather than cheat them in a losing bargain?
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