Chapter 20 - Pride before the Fall 2

1 BC

Sandstone

For all that House Qorgyle loves to claim being an ancient, venerated House with three thousand years of history, one could easily forget most of that history was boring skirmishing, raiding and doing a whole lot of nothing. They built no great works, created no advancements in mundane knowledge and science, conquered no lands and founded no great ideology. A sadly invasive habit deeply ingrained across countless noble houses.

As Arin Rada would say: "What good have they achieved other than being nominal figureheads?"

Sitting across Rhodry Qorgyle, Arin saw that his uncle was incredibly fidgety these past few days, moving even when standing or sitting still, his eyes darting from place to place despite his strained and hilariously failed attempts to remain calm. One could be forgiven for assuming that he was still nervous about the invading Reachmen.

"So, that was your first battle, Uncle?" Asked Arin, who calmly sipped his coffee [1] mixed with milk and sugar.

"I-Yes, that was my first battle," Rhodry said with strong jitters, "First time for everything, is there not?"

Arin chose to not call his bluff; his spies told him that Rhodry was no stranger to battle and was forced to hunt more than a few bandit clans in his slice of the desert alongside his in-laws. Exactly why should he be jittery about a single skirmish with the Reachmen? His attempts at concealment were so laughably inept he desperately fought to keep himself from sniggering.

"I get your point," Arin conceded, "The first time I fought a battle, I was scared, praying hard I'd live to see another day. Good thing I arrived as soon as I did, yes?"

"Yes, it was," Rhodry nodded readily, "Thank the Se-I mean the Mother Rhoyne for your most fortuitous intervention."

"I see you have a rather smooth tongue," Arin pointed out, sounding very professional yet very scrutinising and calculative, "Must be very helpful to you when negotiating with egotistical bullies of every denomination. Then again, plenty of us nobles are bullies either of each other or the people in general."

"Why would you say you are a bully, though? The people call you a guardian, a protector and defender of their livelihoods! Why demean yourself by putting yourself together with these other worthless nobles? Your neighbours were most certainly the very definition of egotistical bullies, I dare say!"

Once again, Arin felt himself sniggering at the thought of his family's old rivals meeting their end and in the skilled, honeyed flattery his own uncle was readily showering upon him.

"You sound as if you know plenty about me, Uncle," Arin put forth.

"Well, I admit I was not there for your father and your family as much as I would have liked, but you have to understand I have my own reasons - old rivalries and politics with my neighbours and so on," Rhodry shrugged off, "Furthermore, we live on two opposite ends of Dorne; I cannot always make time to travel just to visit my brother or sister-in-law, much less my nieces and nephews."

Arin looked completely unconvinced, his stoic facade betraying no emotion; distance or no, Rhodry could have at least tried to make time once a year, maybe a few times a year. He did not visit even once.

"And especially right now, with the Reachmen knocking on my door, I cannot afford to leave Sandstone lest it falls into the enemy hands. Already, we've lost several outlying towns and villages and many forts along the way. If we fall, the rest of Dorne is vulnerable to invasion," Rhodry added with finality, sounding truly desperate and convincingly in need of help, "Honestly speaking, those arrogant Daynes, Wyls and Yronwoods always loved to portray themselves as powerful, ancient houses. I think their history as ancient Kings of Dorne went to their heads. About time they learned the price of their hubris.

Rhodry spoke with barely concealed distaste for the aforementioned houses, sneering at the very mention of their names, his eyes narrowed deeply and his anger like a stubborn scab that refused to peel off.

At least he was honest about that.

"In all honesty, I thought that your father was obstinate and stubborn, an old fossil doomed to die, clinging to Rhoynish traditions like that," Rhodry sighed, calming down after his earlier tirade, "Of course our father - your grandfather - preferred that my younger brother be his successor, himself being an ardent loyalist to old tradition."

"I recall father always wished things went better with you, that rather than you going off to marry into House Qorgyle to settle an old grudge between our families, you instead stayed and helped him with keeping House Rada afloat, keep it from being completely done over by our rivals," Arin mused, looking thoughtful and partly wistful as he sipped his coffee.

Rhodry added, looking as if he would spit to the side, "I kept on telling him that sticking to tradition [2] wouldn't help, that unless we worked with our neighbours and stopped being so stubborn, we'd be better off. That at least, we would not be… ostracised."

Rhodry sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head as a heavy weariness settled upon his shoulders.

"Of course, I never thought House Rada would come to rule all of Eastern Dorne and bring down House Martell and become filthy rich in the process," Rhodry added, his voice softer and more tired, as if letting out a lifetime of regret, "So much for leaving an old relic of a house."

And that was the last of his long speech, Rhodry panting in exhaustion and reclining on his chair and looking ready to doze off into a well-deserved slumber.

Maybe if I wasn't brought here by whoever brought me here, then what my uncle said would truly have come to pass. Maybe House Rada really would have faded into obscurity, a forgotten fossil that could not move forward, trapped forever in a past it tried to uphold as part of its traditions, as part of trying to preserve its identity in a land that treated them as a used condom to be thrown away.

Arin's eyes turned solemn and contemplative, gazing into the distance outside the keep's windows, the dark starry night a false tranquillity that easily lulled the cautious to let down their guard.

In the end, all we can really do is do what's within our means and leave the rest to fate. Or God - Rhoynamharyi in this case. Whatever constitutes the higher powers of this world.

Arin stared briefly at Rhodry, narrowing his eyes the slightest smidgen at the greaseball masquerading as the damsel in distress.

And I can certainly do something about this bastard before me.

"I truly apologise; I did not mean to rant and vent my frustrations like that," Rhodry said remorsefully, "So, what's your plan for dealing with the Reachmen?"

Rhodry looked at Arin, his nephew completely unperturbed by the numerically superior Reachmen just on their doorstep, and he was unsettled by this fearless and supreme confidence.

"My father will handle the border defence of Eastern Dorne with my trusted general Franklyn, so do not worry about that," Arin reassured calmly, "All we need to do is kill the enemy before us."

"That we do," Rhodry agreed, "But what is your plan?"

"Follow me," Arin beckoned.

They entered the War Room of Sandstone Keep, an austere, spartan room with only a single table and a map of the desert region unfurled on its surface. The tokens of Houses Rada and Qorgyle were cornered in the town, while the Reachmen tokens had the entire town under lockdown - a bleak situation for weaker defenders.

Gathered inside were three men: Huang Xue and Arron Darrel, and another Yi-Tish man whom Arin introduced as Gongmak Phoq.

Rhodry quickly committed their faces and mannerisms to memory.

Aaron Darrel was the epitome of a scarred veteran - cold, blunt and irritable. One glare from the old man was enough to give Rhodry pause, and he knew he had to tread carefully lest he unknowingly offend him for some reason.

Huang Xue carried himself as a refined gentleman, behaving deferentially to Arin and Rhodry and always maintaining the characteristic poker face of a seasoned politician while casually fanning himself, as if the desert heat was an eternal menace to his well-being. Yet while not openly intimidating like Aaron, there was something about Huang Xue that made Rhodry cautious of him, something like… a viper's countenance.

Vipers had a very poisonous bite, and if handled carelessly could lead to his death. Yet another man to be wary of, Rhodry found.

Then there was Gongmak Phoq, who carried himself with an arrogant, confident swagger, his face welcoming and his demeanour calm and disciplined like a soldier. His black hair was tied in a ponytail, his clothes immaculate, and his posture like a gentlemanly thug.

"Rhodry, this is Gongmak Phoq, Chairman of the Tian Feng Huang [3] (Heavenly Phoenixes), and he serves as my spymaster for this campaign," Arin introduced.

"Good morrow, Your Lordship," Gongmak Phoq curtseyed, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The calm, polite smile Phoq gave him, combined with his predatory gaze shook Rhodry down to the core, as if Phoq was a curious tiger studying his prey - his strengths and weaknesses - so that he may brutally kill him in the most efficient way possible, so that he may savour every morsel of his meal after a lengthy exercise.

Huang Xue the viper, Gongmak Phoq the tiger. Two personalities that by all right should never be in Sandstone this very moment.

What is it with the personalities my nephew surrounds himself with?

"Yes, good morrow to you too, Gongmak," Rhodry greeted, straining to mask his unease.

"Actually, his first name is Phoq," Arin clarified, "His family name is Gongmak."

"Oh, I see," Rhodry said, then remained silent, arms crossed with a defiant expression on his face.

"There is no need to be so cautious around me, Lord Rhodry," Phoq smiled, his smile never faltering, "I am but a humble servant of Lord Rada, and I have seen firsthand the harsh punishments he metes out to those who disobey his orders or go against the will of heaven."

"Right, sure you do," Rhodry remarked, looking unconvinced.

Arin gave Phoq a hard stare, as if warning him of the consequences to come should he try something foolish. Though miniscule, Phoq did suffer some discomfort as a result, a miniscule reassurance for Rhodry, whatever it meant.

"In any case, that aside, how should we deal with the Reachmen?" Rhodry asked, peering over the map, "Surely it does not involve sallying forth to meet the besiegers in battle?"

"It does," Arin confirmed nonchalantly.

"Wha-Are you serious?" Asked Rhodry in disbelief, "I thought you came here to reinforce the castle's defences, not gamble away our chances at survival in a risky attack!"

"It's not so much gambling away, rather our only option at survival," Huang Xue clarified, "Lord Rhodry, how long have your people been forced to stay in the castle, withstanding constant attacks while your own strength is slowly whittled away? Surely even you cannot take it all without wanting a change to this grizzly situation?"

Rhodry had to bite his tongue at this counterargument. Still, he remained unconvinced.

"Even then, there's no guarantee it will succeed," Rhodry pointed out, despite being swayed by the logic of Huang Xue's argument, "I hate to sound defeatist, but we can't match them on the open field; I learned that the hard way."

"I know," Arin said, "Which is why we'll mount a surprise attack."

"What? That does not sound much different from a head-on engagement," Rhodry put forth, "And I'm most certain the Reachmen, having fought us on several occasions, will be doubly-wary of a night attack."

"You do bring up valid points, Uncle," Arin nodded, still sounding infuriatingly composed and professional as he always did, "And that is where I have a countermeasure. Phoq?"

"Yes, My Lord," Phoq bowed, "I and my boys are going there under the guise of merchants. We'll give them plenty of good drinks, put them into a drunken sleep, then we attack."

Rhodry could not believe the sheer audacity of Arin's men; was it truly that easy to just sneak in as merchants, get the Reachmen drunk and then start a slaughter of an enemy who caused them no minor amount of grief since the beginning of the invasion.

And yet as he slowed down and took his time to contemplate Arin plan, he realised there was merit; the Yi-Tish were foreigners in every sense of the word, and as far as anyone knew they were neutral to the wars of Westeros, believing themselves above the troubles of a 'savage' continent as the Essosi do. Was there anything wrong with merchants looking to profit in times of war?

Of course, the presence of foreigners could easily raise suspicions and rouse the Reachmen to kill the 'merchants' instead, thus ruining their plan and all hopes of freeing Sandstone from this siege.

However, between all the battles they fought with the Dornish and the unforgiving desert sun, no Reachmen would begrudge a nice cold drink to soothe their spirits and quench their thirst. And with how close both his house and the other Desert houses came to defeat at their hands, after defeating the Red Mountain Dornish, who is to say their enemy was not going to become complacent? After all, humiliating as it was to admit, the Desert Dornish hardly posed a challenge to them - a fact that galled Rhodry to no end.

Thousands slain in the initial battles alone, ancient Dornish tactics withering in the face of the Reach juggernaut as countless towns and forts fell before the provincial capitals of the desert were besieged.

Risky it may be, but it was the only feasible option left outside pitched battle.

"Be that as it may, they might be suspicious of the coincidental, sudden appearance of merchants who offer them good drink on the cusp of victory," Rhodry put forth again, and this time Arin looked rather annoyed, "There is too much at stake to take this lightly, so we must-"

"Uncle," Arin interrupted, "Do you want me to win this for you, or are you asking me to dig your grave in place of the Reachmen?"

Rhodry stopped himself at the sight of Arin's expression of annoyance, his nephew's hand and the hands of his officers drifting towards their swords. Never did he expect his nephew to talk to him like this in his own home; one surprise among a barrage of surprises hitting him in the face without reprieve.

Haltingly, he swallowed and composed himself before saying, "I apologise, nephew. I've just been on edge lately and I fear the consequences of our defeat."

"I've had to gamble with far less at my disposal, Uncle. This is no different," Arin stated with certainty, his tone slightly accusatory against his kin, "The only differences now are: Our family rules Eastern Dorne, and I get to score first blood against the Reach."

Rhodry felt like he was a small, insignificant being under Arin's piercing gaze, as if his nephew were a titanic mountain in comparison to this gnat of an uncle with little to his name but his family name. It infuriated him, made him frustrated, and yet he knew that his nephew held all the cards in this situation.

"...I will hold down the castle and await news of your victory," Rhodry bowed, "Actually, Arron, why haven't you said anything?"

The old commander simply flashed him a look that made Rhodry feel small, as if he were a mere ant beneath the grandeur and majesty of the Red Mountains, his eyes burning with irritation and annoyance at the bug who dared open his mouth.

"Right… backing away now," Rhodry mouthed, holding up his hands in surrender.

And with that, he left, leaving Arin alone with his circle. Arron allowed himself a chuckle at Rhodry's hasty retreat.

"...That old man is a slippery fuck," Phoq mouthed with a scoff, his scathing eyes staring at the position Rhodry used to occupy, "I can't help but feel he's hiding one thing too many from you. Where's his family, for one? He's hiding one thing too many from us all."

"Not only that, we did not even meet them in person or get wind of their whereabouts, so we'll have to deploy our Hashashins to find them," Huang Xue pointed out, fanning himself with displeasure, "And he avoided talking about the more important points of business, content to vent out his frustrations about your father, his neighbours and attempt to flatter your ego."

"Too bad I'm a numbskull to pick up on that," Arin shrugged.

"Bah! If you call yourself a 'numbskull', My Lord, then your uncle is a completely useless imbecile!" Phoq exclaimed with a hearty laugh.

They all shared a short and brief laugh before Arron interjected, "In all honesty though, I do have to agree with Phoq; who knows if he is not planning to betray us once he is no longer in danger? I faced that sort of situation once with House Martell."

"Arron is right about that. In fact, I think we might have made him more desperate instead," Huang Xue added, "My Lord, please give us your permission."

Arin nodded without hesitation, "Huang Xue, you work with Phoq and the Tian Feng Huang to plant our spies in Sandstone and all the other towns in this region; I want all our people in place the moment we have to do some dirty work."

"As you command, My Lord," Huang Xue bowed.

"Phoq, our Omsyak shipments?"

"All of them fully stashed in the town's warehouses," Phoq smiled wickedly, "I hope to see for myself if the Reachmen's tolerance reaches as high as their mighty egos."

"Good," Arin smiled, "And I believe, Phoq, this will be your gang's time to shine."

Phoq chuckled softly, a cruel and anticipatory laughter, "I may not leave much of anything left for you, My Lord."

"If that is the case, I want in," Aaron declared.

Phoq flashed him a look of surprise, "I know you are a formidable warrior, old man, but surely you have contributed plenty in previous battles in Eastern Dorne?"

"I have always wanted to wet my blades on Reachmen blood," Arron declared, "I am a warrior by nature, and I figure that before my retirement, I should gain some lasting achievements as a glorious end to my career. I'm getting old for this - way too old - and that's why."

"I beg your pardon for saying this, Arron, but surely your time could be spent on other things?" Asked Huang Xue.

"I already spent too long confined to my home, forced to spend time away from the battlefield as I raised my grandchildren, raised my eldest granddaughter to be ready to take the reigns of power as next Lady of House Darrel," Arron said mournfully, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, "I have already done all I can for for my home and family; it's time I do what I can for my country, now that the shackles of House Martell are gone."

Arin placed a gentle hand on Arron's shoulder, "I appreciate it, Arron. In fact, I need you on the frontlines with me."

Arron's eyes widened with surprise, and quickly he shook Arin's hands gratefully.

"Thank you, My Lord, for giving me this chance," Arron said, "I won't let you down."

[1] Coffee - A luxury good imported from the Summer Islands, said to be able to boost your mental energy for the day. Samples were brought back to Ifarahoy for cultivation through trade, and now Dorne sports a coffee culture that grows increasingly popular by the day. The Dornish prefer drinking their coffee with sugar and milk.

[2] Arin would often remark that though he and Rhodry shared a similar mindset on tradition, they walked down drastically different paths that turned them into enemies.

[3] The Tian Feng Huang was formed from a motley connection of down-on-their-luck Yi-Tish who were plucked off the street by Arin Rada, who shaped them into some of his most brutal enforcers in the criminal underworld.