Chapter 80: Reinforcements

"Todd Flowers!"

Back at the docks, Samwell immediately began rallying his men.

"Write to Lady Olenna at once. Tell her I've already defeated the Dayne forces and seized control of Starfall, but am now facing…"

"Ahem." Todd couldn't help but cough at this point.

Samwell shot him a stern look and continued, unapologetically:

"What? Are the docks not part of Starfall? Don't pretend you don't understand the gravity of what's happening. It's incredibly dangerous, but it's also an incredible chance to make a name for ourselves! Todd Flowers, if you want to cast off the stigma of a bastard's name, you'll do as I say."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Todd's face, but after a moment, the bastard of Arbor Isle sighed and nodded.

"I'll tell Lady Olenna exactly what you said."

"Good!" Samwell clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't forget to mention Natalie Dayne's lineage. Trust me—Lady Olenna won't miss such a golden opportunity!"

"Understood."

As Todd walked away, Samwell sighed.

He knew that a great battle was now inevitable. Princess Arianne Martell was not the type to retreat until she drove them into the sea. Even if he retreated to Eagle's Nest, the ambitious Dornish princess would likely pursue him.

As for the Reach, Lady Olenna would certainly see this as a chance to tighten her hold over western Dorne and would likely send reinforcements.

So, this was no longer just a feud between Eagle's Nest and Starfall, but was now the start of a full-scale war between the Reach and Dorne.

The situation was spiraling out of control, and Samwell realized that this might have been Petyr Baelish's plan all along.

Chaos is a ladder.

Ever since Littlefinger's personal visit to Eagle's Nest on the pretense of mining profits, things had steadily slipped from Samwell's control.

Feigning an interest in silver mine profits, Littlefinger had laid his trap, exposing Eagles Nest to Dornish scrutiny, quietly orchestrating the assassination of the last heirs of the Dayne family's main branch, and finally sparking the conflict between Starfall and Eagle's Nest.

And Arianne's arrival? Samwell strongly suspected that, too, was no coincidence and had likely been orchestrated by Littlefinger. Otherwise, how could it all have happened so perfectly?

He'd been wary of the infamous schemer, yet still, he had fallen into Baelish's trap.

Thinking back, he remembered how he had silently mocked Renly Baratheon, considering him merely a puppet in Lady Olenna's hands. Now, he realized he was no different.

Even worse, he found himself with no other choice. Unless he was willing to betray his own interests, he had no option but to play along and let this war unfold just as Baelish had intended.

Such was the power of a master player in this Game of Thrones.

Samwell's lips curled into a bitter smile.

Yet, recognizing this truth didn't bring him despair.

After all, Petyr Baelish was no god. He couldn't account for every variable.

The schemer had meticulously arranged the opening act of this drama, but he couldn't control what came after. And he had no way of knowing that one of his "puppets" had spotted the strings leading back to him.

"Petyr Baelish!" Samwell muttered through clenched teeth. "Wait and see. One day, I'll repay you for this."

---

Horn Hill, located on the northern slopes of the Red Mountains, was the most important fortress shielding the southern border of the Reach.

Whether it was the mountain wildlings or the powerful Dornish warriors, anyone wishing to invade the fertile heartlands of the Reach could not bypass Horn Hill, the fortress of war.

Today, this stronghold on the border of the Reach roared to life once more.

Flags fluttered in the wind, signaling soldiers as they lined up to enter the city. Knights in gleaming armor prepared themselves, as though they could hardly wait to fight for honor.

"Father! Why are you gathering the troops? Are we going to war?" Dickon Tarly ran up to the parapets, excitement brightening his young face.

Though only fourteen, he was already as tall as a grown man, broad-shouldered and handsome—no wonder Lord Randyll Tarly had been determined to make him his heir.

"Yes." Randyll Tarly kept his response brief.

"With whom?" Dickon's eyes shone with eager anticipation rather than fear at the mention of battle.

The Tarly bloodline ran strong with martial spirit…well, aside from one disinherited son.

"Dorne."

"A war against the Dornish? Brilliant! I've never liked those sand-coated warriors!" Dickon's face flushed with excitement. "Is this an order from the Duke? Which other families are joining us?"

"The Duke didn't issue the order," Randyll replied, glancing down at an approaching vassal knight who was removing his helmet to salute. "Only we are joining the fight."

"Oh…" Dickon's excitement waned, replaced by confusion.

Randyll then took out a letter and handed it to his son. "Here is a letter from Lord Mace Tyrell, written three days ago. Read it yourself."

Dickon quickly scanned the letter and exclaimed, "It's Sam! The Dornish are attacking his land! That's unforgivable! Father, please let me join you!"

"No." Randyll refused without hesitation.

Dickon's face fell. He knew his father rarely changed his mind, but he couldn't help asking, "Why can't I go?"

"Because you have a more important task," Randyll replied, retrieving another sealed letter and handing it to his son. "Take this to Brightwater Keep and deliver it to Lord Alester."

Dickon protested, "Do I really need to go myself? Can't we send a raven? Or let Mother deliver it? She told me just last week how much she missed her homeland by the lake, and she'd love to visit."

Randyll narrowed his eyes, his gaze cold.

"Can a raven represent House Tarly? Or can your mother represent House Tarly?"

Realizing the gravity of the message, Dickon carefully placed the letter in his pocket. Putting together the upcoming campaign with the message's significance, he said, "Father, are you seeking aid from Brightwater for Sam's defense?"

"Correct." Randyll's stern expression softened slightly. "The reason and terms for our support are written in that letter. Give it to your grandfather yourself and tell him that House Tarly will not forget the generosity of House Florent."

Dickon stowed the letter securely before asking,

"Father, but if it's only Starfall attacking him, is it necessary to raise so many troops?"

Randyll sighed quietly. "Once the drums of war sound, there's no telling when they'll fall silent."

Dickon scratched his head, only partially understanding. "You're saying the Dornish will bring a larger army against Eagle's Point? Why then would the Duke ignore this and leave only us and Brightwater to respond?"

"Can't you see it yet? Your brother has already been sacrificed as a pawn." A wry smile crept over Randyll's lips, though it wasn't clear who his disdain was directed at.

"Sacrificed?" Dickon faltered.

He wanted to point out that it was Father who had abandoned Sam in the first place…

But, of course, he didn't dare say this aloud.

Sometimes, Dickon felt he couldn't understand the adult world—too complicated, too twisted.

Suppressing his thoughts, he asked, "Father, if Grandfather agrees to send troops, can I join the campaign?"

Randyll shook his head. "No. After delivering the letter, you'll proceed to Highgarden. The Duke's fiftieth name day celebration is approaching, and you will attend as House Tarly's representative."

"Oh…" Dickon, though disappointed, had no choice but to accept.

"Go find your mother," Randyll said. "If she wishes to visit Brightwater, take her with you."

"Yes, Father."

(End of Chapter)