Chapter 172: Conflicts

Lord Eddard Stark rode at the head of the army, leading the column as it wound along the narrow mountain path. But his mind was elsewhere.

The day before, they had passed the Tower of Joy and discovered a dozen Dornish guards still stationed there. The modest tower held out for less than an hour before it fell to the army.

Though it had been a small, insignificant skirmish, the sight of that tower of blood-red stone lingered in Eddard's mind.

It was in that very tower, near the end of Robert's Rebellion, that he had found his sister, Lyanna Stark.

She had been lying there, barely clinging to life, on a bed of blood and roses.

In her arms was a newborn child.

The child of Rhaegar Targaryen, Eddard's sworn enemy.

Eddard had launched a rebellion, torn down a kingdom, only to find that his sister had given her life for the son of his greatest foe.

"Promise me, Eddard. Promise me."

He had always been unable to refuse his sister's pleas, and that time was no exception.

A man who held honor above all else, Eddard had returned to Winterfell with the boy, claiming him as his own illegitimate son, giving him the name Jon Snow.

Years had passed, and time had drained the bitterness of those memories. Yet passing the tower had rekindled them, vivid as if they had happened yesterday.

I need some wine.

As Eddard turned to ask his squire for wine, a rider on a white horse approached, galloping against the direction of the march.

Eddard quickly recognized the rider as Garlan Tyrell, the second son of House Tyrell.

"Lord Eddard!" Garlan reined in his horse, breathing heavily. "Didn't you say in the battle plan that we'd bypass Kingsgrave?"

"Yes, that's correct. Why?"

"Then why is the vanguard attacking Kingsgrave?"

"What? That was not my order!" Eddard was alarmed, abandoning his request for wine. Urging his horse onward, he followed Garlan toward the vanguard at full speed.

As they rode, the sound of distant battle cries reached Eddard's ears, and his anger grew.

The route through the Prince's Pass held over a dozen fortresses, but the only one that truly posed a threat to their seventy-thousand-strong force was Skyreach, guarding the southern exit of the pass. That was the main target Eddard had marked for siege.

The other fortresses along the way could either be bypassed with ease or simply ignored.

Kingsgrave, the seat of House Manwoody, fell into the latter category; it wasn't in their path. Unless the defenders chose to march out from the fortress to attack them several miles away, it posed no threat to their army or supply lines.

Eddard had planned to leave a small force of three to four thousand soldiers to monitor Kingsgrave, ensuring the defenders stayed inside. An assault would have likely cost them three or four thousand men.

Even if they captured the castle, he would still have to leave a garrison, for he knew the Dornish would likely rise in rebellion as soon as the main force moved on.

Better not to attack at all.

Eddard was here to avenge Jon Arryn and to bring justice for Robert Baratheon. He had no interest in unnecessary bloodshed.

Sadly, not everyone thought the same.

"Who ordered the attack?" Eddard demanded as he rode through the troops, his voice sharp with anger.

Looking around, he noticed the banners of several houses.

A blue field with gold antlers on ermine—House Buckwell of the Crownlands.

A white field with three silver fish over a blue fret—House Bywater of King's Landing.

A field of black and gray with a black raven in flight—House Staunton of Rook's Rest.

All Crownlands houses.

"Who ordered this attack?" Eddard rode through the ranks, shouting the question.

"It was His Majesty's order, my lord," answered a knight with a brown bear paw on his breastplate.

"His Majesty's order?" Eddard's anger flared hotter. "But I am the commander of this force!"

The knight of House Blount merely shrugged. "Apologies, my lord. We assumed you and the king had agreed."

"We had not!" Eddard snapped. "Stop the assault immediately!"

He turned his horse and rode toward the royal banner with its golden crown and stag, flying high in the rear.

Before long, he heard the shrill voice of King Joffrey.

"What's going on? Why did they stop? Who told them to stop?"

"That would be me." Eddard slowed his approach, reigning in his tone and pace, not wanting to seem confrontational.

But despite his attempt at calm, the young king's face showed nothing but offense. Brandishing his riding crop, Joffrey yelled, "Eddard Stark! How dare you countermand my orders!"

"Your Grace, the command of this army rests with me. You may not issue orders without my approval."

"Yes, I can! I'm the king!"

Eddard felt a headache creeping in as he looked at the obstinate young king.

Robert, how did you sire a son like this? He thought of his daughter Sansa, betrothed to this boy, and his heart sank.

As tension mounted, a curtain of the nearby carriage drew back to reveal Queen Regent Cersei's stunning face.

"Lord Eddard," she called with a serene smile. "Even if you are in command, must you be so heavy-handed? Joffrey only wishes to clear the path for our army."

"Your Grace, Kingsgrave neither blocks our path nor threatens our supply line. There's no need to waste lives on this siege. I made that clear during our strategy meeting."

"That's cowardice!" Joffrey interjected. "Unless those Dornish surrender, we should storm the gates and kill them all!"

"You will never win the Dornish over with slaughter, Your Grace."

"Then kill every Dornish who won't submit!"

"That will only bring more enemies."

"Impossible! The more you kill, the fewer there are!"

"Lord Eddard," Cersei cut in. "While you command this army, don't forget I am the Regent and Warden of the Realm. I hold the authority to command all the king's forces and even revoke your command."

Eddard's face darkened with fury. He wanted nothing more than to rip off his badge of office and cast it at this mother and son. To ride off with his men back to the North.

But he couldn't.

He was here to avenge Jon Arryn, and he owed it to Robert as well.

Leaving was not an option.

Seeing Eddard fall silent, Joffrey sneered, then ordered his herald, "Order the attack! I want to dine in Kingsgrave tonight!"

"Yes, Your Grace."

Eddard opened his mouth to speak but held his tongue.

The horns sounded once more, signaling the renewed assault.

After Eddard rode off, Ser Jaime Lannister approached the carriage, leaning by the window and murmuring to his sister, "Father specifically told us not to let Joffrey interfere with military decisions."

Cersei glared at him. "And Father also wants me to remarry! If Joffrey doesn't gain renown and influence in Father's eyes, do you think he'll speak for me? Or should I rely on you?"

"I could speak to Father on your behalf," Jaime offered.

"Speak to him about what?" Cersei scoffed.

Jaime's gaze softened. "Tell him that we're truly in love…"

"Are you mad?" Cersei gasped, then lowered her voice. "People would question Joffrey's legitimacy!"

"Then let's be open about it," Jaime suggested nonchalantly. "We could marry openly, like the Targaryens did."

Cersei stared at him, shocked he would suggest such a thing. "And then what? You expect Joffrey to give up the Iron Throne?"

"So what if he does?" Jaime replied. "The Iron Throne isn't worth having. Joffrey could inherit Casterly Rock."

Furious, Cersei snapped, "You can inherit Casterly Rock yourself! My son will rule in King's Landing!"

With that, she dropped the carriage curtain, shutting her brother out.

---

In the dark night, Samwell could just make out the lights of the Starfall harbor lighthouse in the distance.

"Lord Yohn, we're nearly there."

"Good," replied Lord Yohn Royce. He turned to his squire and ordered, "Tell the men to prepare for disembarking."

After the squire left, Samwell cast another glance at Lord Yohn's ancient bronze armor, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Im sorry m'lord, but curiosity got the better of me. It's said your armor is enchanted. Is that true?"

"It is," Lord Yohn replied. "Otherwise, no suit of bronze could endure for millennia without damage."

Samwell swallowed, fascinated. "Does that mean it can block any harm?"

Lord Yohn laughed. "Lord Samwell, if that were true, the Royces would've taken the Iron Throne long ago. Many Royces died wearing this armor.

"Robar Royce II, the last of the Bronze Kings, wore it in his final stand against the invading Andals at the Battle of the Seven Stars.

"Ser William Royce, a famed knight loyal to the Blacks during the Dance of the Dragons, also died in it, overrun by a mob. Even our ancestral Valyrian steel sword was lost in the chaos.

"There are many other examples, Lord Samwell… there is no armor that can shield against all harm, just as there is no sword that can vanquish all evil."

As he spoke, Lord Yohn's gaze drifted to the massive sword, Dawn, strapped to Samwell's back.

Noticing the glance, Samwell asked, "You recognize the sword I carry?"

"Of course," Lord Yohn replied with a hint of reverence. "The greatsword Dawn. I never expected House Dayne to let you walk away with it, let alone for you to wield it."

Samwell's eyebrows rose slightly. "I didn't expect you to know so much about Dawn."

Lord Yohn's expression grew distant, as though he were peering back through the ages. When he spoke again, his voice held an ancient, sorrowful resonance, like an echo from a bygone era:

"We remember."

Samwell blinked, taken aback, until he realized that Lord Yohn had just invoked the Royce family motto.

It was a cryptic response, yet it made Samwell wonder how many ancient secrets House Royce might know—secrets passed down from the dawn of history.

"What do you remember?" Samwell asked, hoping to pry further.

But Lord Yohn fell silent, his gaze fixed on the harbor lights, lost in some private memory.

Seeing he would get no more answers, Samwell left it at that.

Both men stood quietly as the only sound was the waves lapping against the ship.

Soon, the seventeen ships approached the shore.

The soldiers began disembarking, their horses outfitted with bits to muffle any sounds.

Samwell stepped off the ship and, almost immediately, spotted Lady Nathalie Dayne waiting for him on the dock.

Clad in a broad cloak, the Lady of Starfall waved excitedly as she saw him, her face lit with a radiant smile.

(End of Chapter)