Chapter 482: Dornish Army

In the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, a grand celebration was underway for the King's wedding. The merriment was boundless, and for a fleeting moment, people seemed to forget the war, savoring the precious moments of peace.

Elsewhere in Westeros, although large-scale warfare had come to an end, the three river regions and the capital, surrounded by the territories of the Westernlands, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Stormlands, were at peace, quietly recovering.

Yet the large battles had ceased, small skirmishes had not.

"Cavalry's returned!"

"Cavalry's returned!"

Shouts from the guards echoed through the encampment, followed by the heavy wooden gates creaking open to admit a troop of light-armored cavalry, their cloaks the color of desert sand.

"Whew—"

"Whew—"

The leading knight, stained with blood, bore a crest of red and black with a golden hand— the sigil of House Allyrion of Godsgrace in Dorne.

The knight removed his helm, revealing a face weathered by hardship. Dismounting, he handed his helmet and reins to a squire.

"Father."

Another Dornish knight, younger and clad in armor, dismounted and followed, his youthful face now revealed.

"Damon."

The middle-aged knight glanced at his bastard son, who was unwisely following him, his brow slightly furrowing.

"I must see Lord Yronwood. Do not follow."

He then noticed his beloved warhorse, stained with blood, and continued.

This steed was his cherished possession, as pure as unblemished silk. He couldn't bear to see it muddied and foul.

"It seems my warhorse is dirty. You clean him."

The middle-aged man's armor clanked as he strode away, ignoring his bastard son, who stood dumbfounded.

Though the status of bastards had slightly improved in Dorne, they still had little social standing.

And taking one's bastard to meet one's powerful father-in-law? Sir Roger Allyrion of Godsgrace would have to be out of his mind to do such a thing.

Since Viserys repelled the Others and war broke out at the Twins, Dorne had been mobilizing troops.

Though caught off guard by the news of the Others' swift defeat, they still cooperated with the Targaryen forces.

The Dornish army besieged the lands, restraining House Baratheon and House Tyrell, preventing them from supporting King Robert and repelling the Targaryens.

Now, the commander of the Dornish forces was none other than Anders Yronwood, the Bloodroyal and Warden of the Stone Way, one of the most powerful families in Dorne, Prince Doran's right hand.

He had once been dispatched by Prince Doran to lead a Dornish force to the Wall to fight the wildlings and the Others.

However, in facing the Others, Lord Yronwood lost a foot and became a cripple. Though saved by his soldiers, his wounds festered, and his left leg was amputated to save his life.

After that war, Anders Yronwood led the battered Dornish forces back home, not participating in the battles of Winterfell or Blackwater Bay.

Finally, after a long journey from the north of Westeros to the southernmost tip, the Dornish army returned home, bringing the true news of the Others to Prince Doran.

Anders told Prince Doran of the terrible demons at the world's end, carrying death and cold, intent on destroying the world.

If no one could stop them, world's end might be at hand.

Prince Doran was initially skeptical, asking his confidant what the Others looked like. However, Anders told him they were not of legend but real. If the Prince wanted to know their appearance, speed, or strength, Anders could only point to his lost left leg and the surviving Dornish soldiers, some mad, some suicidal, and tell Prince Doran they looked like 'death' itself.

Now, in the silent command tent of the Dornish army, Anders Yronwood sat quietly, studying the sand table and the strategic situation.

"Father."

Roger Allyrion then entered, lifting the curtain. Roger's father-in-law was this one-footed 'Warden of the Stone Way,' Anders Yronwood, the present commander of the Dornish army.

Roger had married Anders's daughter, Ynys Yronwood, and they had two sons.

"Hmm, you're back."

Anders did not even look up, his bright eyes fixed on the sand table, seemingly seeking a way to break through the obstacles.

Though the Dornish forces were fierce, the attack was not going smoothly.

Upon leaving Prince's Pass, they faced resistance at Nightsong Castle. The borderlands were prepared for Dorne's assault, given their sensitive history.

Nightsong's lord, Bryce Caron, summoned many nobles to aid in defense, with support from Houses Tyrell and Baratheon.

The main forces engaged in a protracted struggle, and Dorne's cavalry was sent to harass and cut off the Stormlands and Riverlands' reinforcements, even raiding and burning villages in the fertile Riverlands.

This enraged the Rose of Highgarden, and Lord Mace Tyrell sent his uncle, Ser Moryn Tyrell, commander of Oldtown's garrison, to help.

But then good news arrived.

"We repelled the Tyrell reinforcements, Father," said Roger Allyrion. They had ambushed the Tyrells on their path and temporarily defeated them.

"And we have an unexpected prize. We've captured this little plump fellow."

Sir Allyrion clapped his hands, and a trembling plump boy with the sigil of a striding huntsman on a green field was pushed in.

Lord Yronwood's gaze instantly fell on the crest, and he calmly asked,

"Young man, introduce yourself."