Chapter 226: A Warning

To hasten his return to Highgarden, Samwell placed his army under the command of Todd Flowers, while he himself rode ahead with a small cavalry unit.

Upon his arrival, he found Highgarden bustling with assembled banners of various lordly forces.

In truth, even before Samwell had departed for Starfall to meet with Prince Doran, Lord Mace Tyrell, at the behest of the "Queen of Thorns" Olenna, had issued a public denouncement of Cersei and her brother's illegitimate offspring, claiming they had no rightful claim to the Iron Throne.

Interestingly, however, the statement did not explicitly endorse Stannis Baratheon's claim to the throne. At the same time, Lord Mace issued a general call to arms, though he failed to specify exactly whom these forces were intended to fight.

This ambiguity, of course, was premeditated, a strategic decision agreed upon by Samwell and Lady Olenna to keep future options open.

After quickly refreshing himself and changing his clothes, Samwell went to meet Lady Olenna.

"Sam," she greeted, waving off her maids before addressing her new grandson-in-law. "So, what exactly did you discuss with Doran? A Dornish envoy has already arrived, saying something about renegotiating tariffs between us and Sunspear."

Samwell settled himself across from the formidable lady, poured himself a cup of tea, and took a few steadying sips before calmly recounting his meeting with Prince Doran.

Lady Olenna listened in silence, and when he finished, she scoffed. "He actually suggested you follow in Aegon the Conqueror's footsteps? Hah! He must have something up his sleeve. Remember, Aegon had three fully-grown dragons; your dragon…"

She glanced up to see Cleopatra soaring above the courtyard, shrieking as she circled.

"...seems to be growing rather quickly," Lady Olenna remarked, watching with a raised brow. "Do dragons usually mature this fast?"

Indeed, Cleopatra's growth was astounding. Only two months ago, she was kitten-sized, yet now, she had grown to the size of an adult falcon.

"She eats a lot," Samwell answered, laughing as he attempted a casual explanation. Privately, he felt a thrill of excitement—clearly, the dragonbone broth he'd been feeding her was working, accelerating her growth beyond his expectations. He could finally stop worrying that he'd be raising this dragon for his descendants.

Lady Olenna raised an eyebrow but didn't press the matter. "At any rate, you were wise to turn down Doran's offer of alliance. The man might appear mild-mannered, even weak, but anyone who underestimates him is a fool. Doran grew up in Dorne's nest of vipers, so he is far from harmless. Unlike his outspoken brother, he knows how to conceal his fangs, which makes him all the more dangerous."

"I understand," Samwell replied, adopting a deferential tone. In truth, a significant reason he had rejected Doran's alliance was out of respect for House Tyrell. It would have been unthinkable for him to propose marrying a second wife from Dorne so soon after his engagement to Margaery. Such an insult would not have gone over well with Lady Olenna, nor with the lords of the Reach. The Reach and Dorne shared a long history of animosity, and Samwell knew he had to choose one side. Given the circumstances, the Reach was clearly the better ally.

"Now," Lady Olenna continued, "tell me more about this tariff proposal. What exactly do you have in mind?"

Samwell leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I've come up with a plan to bring Dorne under control—not through war, but through food."

"Oh?" Lady Olenna's curiosity was piqued. "Explain."

"As you know, my lands produce brandy, and I need a significant supply of fresh mountain grapes to keep up production. To strengthen our bond with House Dayne, I arranged for Starfall to serve as one of our grape suppliers."

Samwell paused, glancing at Lady Olenna to ensure she was following. "During my visit, I inspected their vineyards and noticed that the Dornish locals were eager to grow grapes for Eagle's Nest."

"And why is that?"

"Simple—they make a better profit growing grapes. Dorne's soil is poor, and yields of crops like barley and wheat are low. I asked around, and on the same plot of land, a farmer growing grapes could nearly double his income compared to growing grains. Starfall's fields are already covered in vineyards, with most of the local farmers turning to grapes."

Samwell leaned back slightly, a smile tugging at his lips. "And because these vineyards bring them a steady income, the people of Starfall have become far friendlier to Eagle's Nest. In fact, ask any of them, and you'd likely find few who still view Eagle Nest or even the Reach as enemies."

Lady Olenna's eyes sparkled with interest as she grasped his meaning. "And you think this approach could be expanded to the rest of Dorne? If enough of Dorne's farmland shifts from grains to cash crops like grapes, olives, cotton, or sugar beets…"

"...then Dorne's grain supply will dwindle," Samwell continued, nodding. "To make cash crops even more appealing to the Dornish, we'll flood their market with low-cost grain from the Reach, making grain farming unprofitable for them. Before long, Dorne will depend on us for food."

"And if you control Dorne's food supply…"

"You control Dorne," Samwell finished.

"Which is why I suggested renegotiating tariffs with Doran," he explained. "It would facilitate trade and ease the execution of this plan."

"An ingenious idea," Lady Olenna praised him, her eyes gleaming with cold delight. "Trying to conquer Dorne with sword and spear will only breed resentment and resistance. But if they rely on the Reach for food, they'll have no choice but to stay on good terms with us. Perhaps one day, even if House Martell calls for war, the people of Dorne may find they have no will to fight us."

After a moment's thought, she added, "There's only one potential problem—the Martells might see through this and decree that all farmers must continue growing grain."

Samwell chuckled. "But that would mean cutting off their own people's livelihoods. My plan aims to create enough Dornish farmers with a vested interest in trade with us. The more such farmers there are, the harder it will be for Dorne to turn against us."

Lady Olenna nodded approvingly. "You make a fair point. Even if the Martells realize what's happening, they may not dare to enforce such a decree, which would alienate both farmers and nobles. And with Doran so eager to demonstrate good faith, it would be hard for him to break the tariff agreement so soon."

"So, you approve of the plan?"

"Indeed. The Reach has grain in abundance. Even if we take a slight loss, it's worth it if your plan works. We might accomplish what the Targaryens never could."

Samwell smiled with satisfaction and poured her another cup of tea.

He couldn't deny that with House Tyrell's support, he now had resources and power beyond what he'd ever possessed. For the first time, he felt he could actually make a move on one of Westeros's toughest adversaries—Dorne.

Of course, this "agricultural invasion" plan would take years, perhaps even decades, to fully reshape Dorne's farming landscape. For now, his best chance of strengthening his forces lay in seizing the Stormlands.

Thinking of this, he asked, "How are the troop preparations going?"

"Nearly all the Reach lords have sent their men. We have close to thirty thousand troops here in Highgarden, with perhaps another ten thousand on the way."

"That should be enough." Samwell nodded, pleased.

The Stormlands had lost much of its military to Dorne. Even if they managed to scrape together twenty thousand men, it was doubtful they could muster any real resistance—especially with a bastard named as their lord by the Iron Throne.

"By next week, our forces should be ready. Mace will formally declare war on the bastard lord, though the battle planning will fall to you, your father, and Mathis Rowan."

"Understood." Samwell nodded. "Will Lord Mace be joining the campaign?"

"No. He'll stay in Highgarden," Lady Olenna said with a dismissive snort. "Garlan will represent House Tyrell in the campaign."

Samwell nodded approvingly. As long as Mace Tyrell wasn't there to muddle things up, he was content.

Just as he was about to take his leave, he hesitated and turned back to Lady Olenna.

"There's one more thing," he began cautiously. "A Red Priestess once shared a prophecy with me. She claimed she saw a vision… of the rose wilting."

"A prophecy?" Lady Olenna scoffed. "I've never put stock in such nonsense. The Targaryens filled their heads with prophecies—'the dragon has three heads,' 'a song of ice and fire'—and look what it brought them: madness and ruin."

Samwell shrugged. "I'm not much of a believer in prophecies either. But it never hurts to be cautious."

"Relax," Lady Olenna replied confidently. "The Reach isn't so fragile. Even with forty thousand men mobilized, we'll still have plenty left for defense."

"Very well." Samwell took his leave, bowing as he departed.

(End of Chapter)