The open plains of Myr stretched as far as the eye could see, and the approaching Dothraki rolled forward like an endless dark cloud.
An age of chaos was coming, both in the East and the West.
Gendry stood atop the earthen ramparts. Below, several layers of anti-cavalry palisades had already been set, with deep trenches dug beyond them. Four banners snapped in the wind, each bearing a different symbol. They were meant to strike fear into the hearts of the Dothraki.
Qyburn followed behind him. Though the old Maester was advanced in years, he remained hale and steady. Anguy and Greywolf stood at Gendry's back.
"Prince, the situation in King's Landing and across Westeros has shifted again," Qyburn said. "Because of the Imp, the Wolf and the Lion have broken apart. The Kingslayer fled King's Landing after launching a night attack on Lord Eddard, and the bandits sent out by Tywin are ravaging the Riverlands. As for King's Landing, there is another matter causing quite a stir: Eddard has temporarily thrown Littlefinger into the dungeons of the Red Keep."
"That is interesting. Littlefinger, with a voice as sweet as a songbird's. But as long as Stark remains in King's Landing, it is a dead end. The Riverlands must be in dire straits now."
"That is so. Blood has begun to flow in the Riverlands. Great Lord Hoster is old and gravely ill, and his impetuous son Edmure now commands the defenses of Riverrun," Qyburn replied. Once, Great Lord Hoster had been tall and imposing in his youth. Now, he was little more than a dying old man.
"Tywin will send forces out from the Golden Tooth. Ser Edmure will likely dispatch Lord Vance and Lord Piper to hold the passes, but they will be no match for Tywin and the Kingslayer," Gendry said, thinking it through.
"The Riverlands, like the Reach, are rich lands, but they are also filled with powerful lords. I fear Edmure's voice carries little weight. He cannot command them all," Qyburn continued. "The Conqueror granted authority to House Tully, yet their bannermen are difficult to control. House Bracken, House Blackwood, House Vance, and House Frey all hold broader lands and stronger forces. House Mallister of Seagard boasts a nobler lineage, while House Mooton of Maidenpool is wealthier. And then there is Harrenhal, a fortress fit for a king alone."
Gendry committed each of those names to memory. He would inevitably have dealings with these lords in the future. For House Tully to command so many powerful bannermen was no easy task.
"Harrenhal is a cursed place," Anguy added, unable to hold back. Nearly everyone had heard the stories. "There was a house there that dabbled in dark magic, and the king wiped them out."
"That is true enough, young man," Qyburn said with a faint smile. "If not for that, House Tully would still have Harrenhal as a powerful ally. A pity House Whent is cursed and now in decline. In their prime, their wealth and strength overshadowed the entire Riverlands."
House Tully's greatest ally had once been House Whent. In the days when Minisa Whent married Hoster Tully, the Whents were the Tullys' foremost bannermen. But now, the curse of Harrenhal had taken its toll, and House Whent was fading.
"And Catelyn? That foolish woman has made such a mess of things. Where has she gone?" Anguy asked.
"After the failed abduction, Lady Catelyn went to the Eyrie. She was spotted along the mountain roads of the Vale. That red hair of hers is easy to recognize," Qyburn said. "Lysa Tully has always obeyed Littlefinger without question. If she learns of Littlefinger's situation, Lady Catelyn will likely be unable to leave the Eyrie."
"That makes things even more chaotic," Gendry said. The Stark family of Winterfell was scattered. The Great Lord and several of his children were in King's Landing, the Lady was at the Eyrie, and those left behind in Winterfell were little more than children holding things together.
"Winterfell will likely march soon. A great war is about to break out, and the flames will soon engulf the Riverlands," Qyburn said calmly. A statesman or a commander needed a certain coldness to judge the wider situation and the fate of countless lives.
"I see two key points in this war," Gendry said. "Harrenhal and King's Landing. King's Landing is the capital, while Harrenhal, that mighty fortress, is the true crossroads of the realm."
In truth, Gendry had little interest in taking King's Landing. As a port city, it was difficult to defend, and its people were notoriously hard to manage.
"Besides, many lords in the Riverlands and the Crownlands were once loyalists to the old royal faction, like Maidenpool and House Whent. As long as we are strong enough and move quickly, these lords will soon turn to our side," Qyburn said.
"I've long wanted to return to Westeros with you, to put an arrow through that beast the Mountain, and his master Tywin," Anguy said bitterly. Born of the common folk, he understood their suffering all too well.
"We'll have that chance," Gendry said, looking at him. "But for now, we take Khal Drogo first. We deal with the threat in front of us."
"Yes."
"King's Landing is my home. Sooner or later, I will return. And I don't think it will be long before we set foot in Westeros again," Gendry said. The situation there was like a field packed with powder kegs, each one ready to explode in turn.
"I've heard there's a White Hart in the Kingswood. We'll have to see who fate favors enough to claim it." Gendry gazed west as he spoke. Qyburn's eyes flickered with interest, but he said nothing.
...
Inside the Tower of the Hand, Eddard still glared at the king and Queen.
"Is this your idea of justice?" Eddard said angrily. "If it is, then I'm glad I did not remain your Hand." A trace of disappointment weighed on him. Politics should not be like this. It should stand for fairness and justice, not Robert's habit of smoothing things over and pretending not to see.
The Queen turned to her husband. "In the past, if anyone had dared speak to a Targaryen like this…"
"Do you take me for Aerys?" the king cut her off.
"I take you for the ruler of this realm. By law and by marriage, Jaime and Tyrion are both your brothers-in-law. Yet the Starks nearly seized one and drove the other from the city. This man stands here insulting you with every word, and what do you do? You stand there meekly, asking about his leg one moment and offering him wine the next." The Queen's words grew sharper with each sentence.
Robert's face darkened with anger. "You wretched woman, how many times must I tell you to hold your tongue?!"
Cersei's expression was filled with contempt. "The gods have played a cruel joke on us," she said. "You should be the one wearing skirts, while I should be the one in armor, riding to war."
The king's face turned purple with rage. He lashed out with a heavy punch, sending her staggering into the table before she fell hard to the ground.
Cersei made no sound. She raised a slender hand to her cheek. The pale skin had already begun to redden, and by tomorrow, half her face would be swollen.
"I will wear this as a badge of honor," she said.
"Then wear it quietly, or I will make it an even greater honor," Robert said coldly. He shouted for a guard. Ser Meryn Trant, tall and grim in his white armor, entered at once.
"The Queen is tired. Take her back to her chambers."
The knight helped Cersei to her feet and led her out without a word.
Robert picked up the wine bottle again and filled his cup.
"Eddard, you see how she treats me."
He sat down, turning the cup slowly in his hand.
"This is my dear wife. The mother of my children." His anger had faded, and what remained in his eyes was only weariness and fear.
"Your Grace, there is something important I must speak to you about," Eddard said. The shadow of Rhaegar still seemed to cling to the king. He had won the war, yet had never truly escaped it.
"I'm going hunting in the Kingswood tomorrow. Come with me, my old friend," the king said, almost pleading. "We can talk then."
Eddard considered it for a long moment, but in the end, he could not refuse his friend.
"Then it's settled." At last, the king managed a trace of a smile, then took out the symbol of his office. A heavy silver badge in the shape of a hand, which he tossed onto the bed. "Like it or not, you are my Hand of the King. I'm not letting you go."
...
"The blood oranges are ripe," the prince said in a weary voice as the Red Viper, Oberyn, pushed his brother out onto the balcony.
The oranges kept dropping onto the marble floor, splitting open and gradually filling the air with a rich, sweet fragrance. Prince Doran sat beneath the orange trees, breathing it in.
The only cheerful sounds came from near the fountain pool, where children's laughter echoed.
"The Water Gardens are the place I cherish most in all the world," Prince Doran said.
"I cherish this place too, but I have more important matters to attend to," said the Red Viper.
"Are you truly going? You could die on that battlefield," Prince Doran said with a sigh. "The Dothraki are many, their horsemanship unmatched, and they do not fear death."
"This is a rare chance. After all these years, I've finally seen a glimmer of hope. War is breaking out all across Westeros, and at the very least, we need some help. Look around, brother. We have no allies in Westeros. We can only go beyond it and look for new friends."
"You are right. But our old plans, for Viserys, for Daenerys, are about to come to nothing now," Doran said with a sigh.
"Oh, enough, brother. Don't start talking about that failed scheme of yours again. If your eyes still work, you should know how many men your daughter has slept with. That means little in Dorne, of course, but for a Queen, you understand what that means. And it all comes of you keeping it from her. The previous Sealord is dead, and you never gave them any real help in the first place, so what alliance is there to speak of?"
"Caution is Dorne's shield, Oberyn. Think of the Dornishmen who died on those battlefields, ten thousand Dornish warriors. We are the least populous of the Seven Kingdoms. Even a small war wounds us to the bone. We cannot bear too much loss of life, brother."
"But I see an opportunity. That boy is going to lead an army onto the continent, just like the Conqueror once did. He will be a new Conqueror."
"I know you admire him. He does have something bright about him. But, Oberyn, I cannot gamble Dorne's fate on your judgment."
"Then at least I still have myself," the Red Viper said, looking at his brother. "Everyone else is hunting now. I want to hunt as well."
"It would be best if you did not involve yourself at all. But if you truly insist, I will not give you a single soldier. You may only take those knights who are willing to follow you. I hope you return alive, brother. You know how hard it is to hold together a kingdom in fury. Dorne cannot afford to lose you."
"I will live. This life is meant for one man, to kill the Mountain." The Red Viper smiled. "No one has ever killed a viper."