Chapter 289: The Withering Rose
Old Oak Castle
Newly-appointed Lord Togen Oakheart paced back and forth in the great hall, his bloodshot eyes betraying days without sleep.
Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't rest. The army of the Horse faction was now laying siege to Old Oak, and he was consumed with anxiety.
He had racked his brain for days, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand why the Horse faction had suddenly gathered such a force to attack his castle.
How dare they?
The eldest son of Highgarden's lord, Willas Tyrell, was right here in Old Oak as a hostage. Did the Horse faction think he wouldn't dare harm Willas?
"Still no reply from Highgarden?" Willas asked, sitting in his wheelchair with a wool blanket draped over his legs. His face also showed concern.
"None," Togen grumbled.
Five days ago, when word came that a large army was advancing on Old Oak, Togen had realized something was amiss.
He had immediately sent ravens to Highgarden seeking clarification, but not a single response had arrived.
Could it be, as the Horse faction claimed, that this military action had Highgarden's approval? That the Tyrells had decided to finally settle accounts for the previous rebellion?
"How many ravens did you send?" Willas pressed.
"Every raven in Old Oak was sent!" Torgen growled. "Highgarden should have received my message long ago! But there's no reply! Does Lady Olenna think I wouldn't dare kill you?"
"Please calm yourself," Willas said, attempting to pacify him. "This could very well be an unauthorized move by the Horse faction. If you kill me, you'd only give them the justification they're looking for."
"Then why hasn't Highgarden replied?"
Willas fell silent, a flicker of confusion and pain flashing across his face. But he quickly regained his composure and said, "Perhaps something happened to the ravens…"
"One or two, perhaps. But every single raven?" Togen snapped. "I even had the maester release a batch at night. Are you going to tell me the Horse faction has archers posted around Old Oak who can shoot ravens in the dark?"
Willas pondered for a moment. "Perhaps there's another reason the ravens didn't reach Highgarden…"
Boom!
A deafening explosion cut off their conversation.
The castle trembled violently. Tapestries fell from the walls, and the crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling crashed to the floor, shattering into countless pieces.
Fortunately, Togen had reacted quickly and avoided the falling debris. Otherwise, he would have been struck on the head.
Dust filled the hall, making Willas cough uncontrollably.
"What was that?" Togen shouted in alarm. "What just happened?"
"Cough… cough…" Willas' pupils shrank. He suddenly remembered a report from the storming of Stormlands Bronze Gate during the Reach campaign.
Could it be that thing?
Before he could fully grasp the situation, Togen had already stormed out of the hall.
Willas tried to roll his wheelchair out to investigate, but the guards at the door blocked his way.
"Apologies, Lord Willas. For your safety, we must ask you to remain inside."
With no choice, Willas returned to the hall, a growing sense of dread gnawing at him. He realized there was nothing he could do.
Hundreds of scenarios raced through his mind, but he couldn't think of a single way to resolve the crisis.
This was very likely a trap meant for him.
The Horse faction wanted to force the Oakhearts to kill him.
Willas knew the Horse faction had been deeply dissatisfied with the Tyrells' leniency toward the Stag's Faction during the earlier rebellion. He also knew Caesar had grand ambitions. What he couldn't fathom was why they were reacting so aggressively.
Killing the heir of their liege house? Even if they pinned the blame on the Oakheart's, everyone would see through it.
How would Caesar clean up the fallout? How could he hope to restore order?
The Tyrells had done him no wrong…
Before long, Togen returned, his face twisted with rage and splattered with blood.
"What happened?" Willas asked, his heart sinking.
"The castle is breached," Togen said, his red-rimmed eyes filled with despair.
"Of course…" Willas muttered, his mind racing. "Togen, listen to me. This is absolutely not the will of Highgarden—"
"Why not?" Togen sneered, his eyes glinting with madness. "You overestimate your value to the Tyrells. Highgarden has three sons—what's the loss of one or two?"
Willas stared at the advancing Togen, whose bloodied sword gleamed menacingly. "Don't be rash, Togen. Let me talk to the Horse faction—"
"Talk? If you go to them, they'll keep you as a hostage. What leverage would I have left then? Do you think I'm an idiot?" Togen barked a bitter laugh and gestured to his guards.
Willas tried to protest, but two guards pinned him down.
"Togen, listen to me—"
"Relax. I won't kill you," Togen said coldly, raising his sword. "I'll just cut off a leg to send to the Horse blinded fools outside. Let them know I'm not afraid to act!"
"Togen, no! Ah—"
The blade came down, and blood splattered.
Togen picked up the severed leg and handed it to his men.
"Take this to Mathis Rowan. Tell him if they don't stop, there will be more 'Willases' sent their way."
"Yes, my lord."
Togen called for the maester to tend to Willas' bleeding wound.
"Don't hold a grudge," Togen muttered. "That leg was useless anyway."
Willas, pale with pain, panted, "It's no use, Togen. The Horse faction wants me dead."
"Then what should I do?" Togen roared, his despair boiling over.
"The best choice is to hand me over alive," Willas said. "Do it publicly, so they won't dare harm me. That's your only hope of survival."
"You must think I'm a fool!" Togen snapped. "Hand you over and wait for the Tyrells to take revenge on me later? Is that your plan?"
"I swear on my honor as Highgarden's heir, there will be no retribution—"
"Honor? Ha! It was your worthless promises that brought me to this!" Togen snarled, his laughter unhinged.
At this time, the messenger that went had returned.
"How is it?" Togen asked quickly.
The messenger looked grim. "My lord, Lord Mathis said that your only way to survive is to hand over Ser Willas Tyrell. Otherwise, the war will not stop. And if you dare to harm Ser Willas' life, then, then…"
"What?"
"Then Highgarden will exterminate the House Oakheart..."
"Impossible!" Willas cried, "Highgarden would never do such a thing!"
He tried his best to persuade Togen to believe him.
But Lord Togen remained silent, his expression becoming increasingly grim.
The shouting and screaming outside were getting closer and louder.
Lord Togen knew that the Oakhearts garrison could not resist for much longer.
Despair and regret enveloped his heart, and he finally made the final decision.
When Willas saw Togen approaching him again with a bloody sword in hand, he was horrified:
"Togan! Listen to me! Killing me will be useless and will only make the situation irreversible..."
"Willas." Lord Togen's tone became extremely calm, with dead despair, "What I regret most is that I believed your promise in Highgarden, the promise of you Tyrell's.
Perhaps I should have realized when that Faceless Man slit Lady Arwyn's throat that you had no intention of letting House Oakheart go.
Yes, you never have from the very beginning.
"Listen to me! This isn't Highgarden's doing—it's the Horse faction acting alone!"
"Enough!" Togen yelled. "I see now. The Tyrells never planned to spare my house, and I won't spare you!"
With those words, he plunged his sword into Willas' chest.
Blood sprayed over Togen, making him look monstrous.
"Cut off his head," Togen ordered. "Send it to Mathis Rowan."
"Yes, my lord."
Once the guards left, Togen stood alone in the room, silent and motionless.
When he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, he came to his senses and calmly slit his own throat.
By the time the soldiers stormed in, they found only his lifeless body.
---
Cider Hall
Lord Randyll Tarly strode into the castle gates.
Though fighting continued, the fall of the Fossoway family was inevitable.
As more of his forces poured into the castle, victory was assured.
A messenger approached, saluting. "My lord, we've found both Ser Garlan Tyrell and Lord Fossoway in the main keep. They request an audience."
"I understand." Randyll nodded coldly, but he didn't go to see Lord Fossoway.
After a while, a young man covered in blood approached. It was Chiman, a fearsome warrior in his son command, a former wildling who was said to be notorious in the Red Mountains.
"Lord Tarly," Chiman reported, his voice emotionless. "Ser Garlan Tyrell has been killed by Lord Fossoway. To avenge him, I killed Lord Fossoway."
"Well done." Randyll showed no interest in the truth of the tale. All that mattered was Garlan's death at Cider Hall.
"Prepare Ser Garlan's body for transport," Randyll commanded. "Send it along with Lord Fossoway's head to Highgarden. Inform them that we have carried out Lady Olenna's orders and ended the Stag's rebellion."
"Yes, my lord."
Randyll watched him leave, then added one last instruction:
"Make sure they know—these were Lady Olenna's orders. Not those of Lord Mace."
Chiman smiled faintly. "Understood."
(End of Chapter)