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Chapter 32: Interlude: War of Four DirectionsChapter Text

"The Triarchy-Dorne alliance marched ninety-thousand men into the Stormlands, seizing the Dornish Marshes and Blackhaven before sufficient force could be mustered to fight them."

-Excerpt from 'The War of Four Directions', by Maester Daenys Fyre

107 AC, War Room, Red Keep

"This was coordinated." Rhaenyra noted, eyeing the great map on the table. "The timing was too good."

Corlys nodded in approval. The next king had put the arrow in the eye. There were just three of them awake at this late hour. After the news at the wedding, Rhaenyra had ordered the wedding dinner to resume, as everyone was too drunk and tired to plan for battle, so they all went to bed, leaving only Corlys, Mysaria and the Prince behind.

"Indeed. It's arguably the only way the four of them can defeat us." The Lord of the Tides agreed, arranging pieces atop the map. One by one, the carved wooden figurines descended onto the Seven Kingdoms, marking out the locations of their troops and forces.

"How did we miss all of this?" The prince demanded.

"The Night's Watch reported that the Wildlings were fighting throughout autumn and this year. They thought it was the usual territorial disputes, not a unification under a single king." Mysaria answered. "They didn't go ranging as often as they used to, given their large influx of new recruits in need of training."

Corlys looked amusedly as the person responsible for said large influx of new recruits let out a long sigh and facepalmed, swearing under her breath in some foreign tongue. The Sea Snake frowned. It sounded like one of the Yi-Ti dialects. Did she learn that in the Citadel?

"Then what about the Ironborn? How did we miss them?" Rhaenyra asked.

"My spies do not reach the Iron Islands, and they were acting very friendly, if you recall." Daemon's old lover replied.

"Something we'll have to rectify." The prince grunted. "So the bannermen that were killed, let me guess, they were the friendly ones."

"According to the message from the Lannisters, that appears to be the case, based on Ironborn deserters from the attacking fleet." Corlys said, reading the raven scroll in question. "Lord Walton apparently wanted to teach the Seven Kingdoms that Ironborn Do Not Sow and weren't mere servants."

"So he killed all of his peacemonger bannermen for attempting rapprochement with the mainland and decided to burn the Lannister fleet to prove a point." Rhaenyra finished. "He's a bold one, I'll give him that."

"No he isn't." The Sea Snake denied. "I know the man. He's not one to attack without an unfair advantage."

"Think the Triarchy and Dorne offered alliance?" The prince asked. Lord Velaryon wriggled his palm at that.

"Possibly. But I think it's more likely that they simply told him they were declaring war on us and let him do what he wanted with that information." He said.

"That makes sense." Rhaenyra noted. "And speaking about alliances, what is up with the Triarchy and Dorne? I thought that they were about to war over the Stepstones."

"They were about to war over the Stepstones." Mysaria agreed. "However, recent considerations have made bitter enemies into allies."

As she spoke, she tapped a pale finger onto the map. Right on the Mander.

"Right. Once the canals open, it will kill their economies." Rhaenyra noted.

"More than that. The Stepstones are the Triarchy's lifeline. Without it, they'll no longer be able to afford to fight Braavos for continental hegemony." Lord Velaryon told her. "Similarly for Dorne. Trade with the Dornish has gone up significantly in King Jaehaerys' reign, but they still make most of their money from traders that sail past them, between the west coast of Westeros and the rest of the world. Without it, you've essentially threatened them with bankruptcy."

Rhaenyra let out another sigh at that.

"I was hoping that they wouldn't have noticed that for another few years at least." The future king admitted. "I wanted to call Dorne to heel with a choice between diplomacy or bankruptcy."

Corlys' eyes narrowed at that. So the canals weren't just a means of getting the Riverlords on her side, a future source of coin for the impoverished North or loosening the Triarchy's chokehold on them. She was planning to use it to strangle Dorne this entire time.

What a vicious child. She'd be a right terror to deal with once she got older.

"Regardless, bitter enemies now march side-by-side." Mysaria said. "My spies in Sunspear tell me that the Triarchy is landing men into Dorne as fast as they can."

"They're hoping to win by a land war." Lord Corlys observed. "They know our dragons can torch their ships with ease, so they're ferrying their men into Dorne."

"They've learnt from the Fourth Dornish War." Rhaenyra agreed, frowning at the map. "What's the situation look like for us?"

"From what I can tell, the Ironborn struck first." The Mistress of Whispers said. "My spies in Lannisport tell me that the ships were burnt two days ago."

Off went the cluster of wooden ships in the Westerlands.

"The Redwyne Fleet won't be available." The Sea Snake spoke, moving the appropriate cluster of wooden ships up north. "They're required to fight the Greyjoys so we cannot count on them to fight Dorne."

"The North isn't moving, not with a King-Beyond-the-Wall at their borders." Prince Rhaenyra continued, removing the wooden wolves off the map. "Neither are the Lannisters, if the Ironborn are reaving their coasts."

Off went the wooden lions as well.

"The Reach?" She asked, turning to face the two adults.

"The houses on the west are likely to commit forces to harden their coasts against the Ironborn, and the northeastern quarter of the Reach are committed at the Mander. We're likely only going to have the southeastern quarter arrayed against Dorne." Corlys hypothesised, removing the appropriate pieces from the map.

"Stormlands?" Rhaenyra asked.

"If they call their banners, they can march against Dorne, however the Triarchy's reinforcements have swelled Dorne's host. They won't be able to do anything but defend." Corlys opined.

"How many?"

"Dorne can raise up to fifty thousand. Discounting the garrisons and city watch, I'd say around forty-five thousand. The Triarchy can field easily eighty thousand, however they'll need men at their borders. I think they're committing just over half of what they have against us. Mayhaps fifty thousand." Corlys reported.

"Then the Stormlands are outnumbered three-to-one." The prince grimly said. "They'll need reinforcements. Riverlands?"

"The western half will likely move to defend their coastline. The eastern half can link up with the Stormlords. Twenty thousand men, if we're being generous."

"It's not enough. The Triarchy's got no shortage of sellswords and slaves to throw into the grinder."

"It gets worse." Mysaria spoke up, causing the two of them to look at the spymistress. "They've bought slave soldiers from Slaver's Bay. Eight thousand Unsullied and twelve thousand lesser swords."

Well, that complicated matters. The Unsullied were arguably the finest foot in the world. Unbreakable and unyielding. Merciless killers whom felt no pain.

"And how did we miss this again?" Rhaenyra asked.

"My spies reported such troop buildup for both the Dornish and the Triarchy, however, word on the street on both sides was that they were going to war against each other, not us." Mysaria reported.

"Fuck. We don't have enough men in the south to fight the Triarchy's numbers." Rhaenyra cursed. "What about the Vale? Are they still fighting that war against the Mountain Clans?"

"Yes. The knights of the Vale are still committed against the Mountain Clans. I doubt that they'd be leaving." The spymistress said.

That had actually been Rhaenyra's own suggestion. Over autumn, the Vale had received generously termed loans from House Velaryon to fortify their towns and holdfasts against the Mountain Clans. House Stark also sent down a large detachment of their Northern Mountain Clansmen. Extra mouths and old men, whom would normally 'go hunting' and never return, leaving behind more food for the young. Rhaenyra had persuaded the Starks to send them south instead, as they were familiar with mountainous warfare, to help fight their wayward cousins in the Vale.

The results were already promising. Winter had caused the savages to descend from the mountains, to raid for food and warmth. However, for once, their assault had ground to a halt against fortified towns and men whom knew how to raid them back. Before long, winter cold and starvation would force them to kneel before the Arryns.

It was a clever plan, and one that had promised to bring about a long term victory in the Vale, however, in the short term, it had cost them men they needed to fight Dorne.

Rhaenyra frowned as she pondered the map, looking at the roads and troops and houses.

"We can't win against Dorne." She finally said. "Not without the Reach or Westerlands."

"I concur. We'll have to send ravens out and get more detailed reports back from the Riverlands, Reach and Stormlands, but you're right in essence. We don't have the men to beat them."

"Right. I'll set out as soon as possible, then. I'll break the Greyjoys and free up the might of the west to fight against the south." Rhaenyra declared.

"Even if you take my daughter with you, Silverwing and Vhagar are not enough to break the Ironborn." The Sea Snake warned.

"Well then, it looks like the Dragonseeds will be getting their mounts sooner rather than later." The Prince simply said.