"Have you heard any news of what became of the Red Priestess?" One evening, I invited Ser Rolland to dine at my table. We had baked shrimp with cheese, fried squid, and crab cakes for supper. A couple of meat dishes had been placed on the table for appearance's sake, but I focused on the seafood delicacies. There had been no shortage of them in the Red Keep either, yet here they somehow tasted finer.
"No," the castellan replied curtly.
"And what do you think of her?"
"I'd strangle that bitch with my own hands," he said, clenching his massive fists. "Everything went to hell the moment she showed up here!"
Well, I could understand him. Melisandre had twisted Stannis around her finger, convinced him to join the struggle for the throne, and to change his faith. From the perspective of common folk, she had brought not only a new god—which was bad enough—but also death to the island.
That was in the past. What troubled me in the present was that my people had yet to pick up her trail—we knew nothing of her whereabouts or what she was doing. There were rumors of her death, but I didn't believe them.
"I would be grateful if you ever happen to encounter her. Take her captive and deliver her to the Red Keep—you won't regret it."
"I'll keep that in mind," the castellan nodded and drained his goblet of wine in one loud swallow.
Jaime stood by the fireplace, resting a hand on the mantel and watching my guest thoughtfully. He said nothing.
That night, the storm came in full force, crashing down upon the rocks and Dragonstone with all its furious might. It felt as though the wild, untamed elements could sweep the entire world away. Lightning flared brightly, and from the sea came an unrelenting, thunderous roar. The wind howled through the many gargoyles and passageways. The air smelled of ozone and seaweed cast ashore. I tried in vain to fall asleep in the chamber assigned to me, wrapped in a bearskin. It was bleak, and somehow uncomfortable.
As it later turned out, during the storm one of our ships—a merchant barque named the Busty Beauty—had been torn from its anchor and hurled onto the rocks. Several men were killed.
The sea did not calm at once. For a long time, the water remained murky, thick with sand and silt, while leaves, debris, and bits of wood drifted upon the surface.
On the morning of the fourth day, our fleet set out once more. Rolland Storm remained to serve as castellan—there was neither reason nor suitable replacement to remove him at present. When a new lawful lord arrived, as he inevitably would, it would be his concern.
*
Before departing Dragonstone, I sent a letter to Randyll Tarly, ordering him to begin.
By then, he had already blocked the Bloody Gate from the west but had not shown much activity—we didn't need unnecessary casualties, and we wanted to carry everything out quickly and efficiently.
As was later reported, Tarly had everything prepared. Upon receiving my letter, he gave the order, and the mountain clans of the Moon Mountains were set into motion. Bronn had managed to find and persuade the Burned Men, the Stone Crows, and the Moon Brothers. Two additional clans had joined them as well—the Painted Dogs and the Howlers.
There were nearly two hundred of these men. They managed to guide a force of two thousand through, and when Tarly's main army launched its assault, they struck the Bloody Gate from the opposite side.
The battle was fierce. The fortress was considered impregnable, and its garrison was neither lacking in courage nor resolve. They made Tarly's army pay in blood, filled the moat with corpses—but still failed to hold and repel the assault. The enraged clansmen slaughtered everyone there without exception, young and old alike.
Later, once we had gathered all our forces into a single fist on the island of Claw Isle, a raven brought word that Tarly had advanced further and laid siege to the Gates of the Moon.
Claw Isle proved to be a small, unremarkable island belonging to House Celtigar. Lord Ardrian extended his hospitality to us. His castle, though not large, was well built and stood in an excellent position upon the cliffs, guarding the harbor and the small port.
There we waited for further news—that Tarly had launched his first assault, failed to take the Gates of the Moon, but had significantly thinned the enemy's ranks.
That was exactly what we needed. Tarly had pinned the enemy down, forcing them to commit substantial forces there.
Now it was our turn. Waiting for fair weather and a favorable wind, we set sail for Gulltown.
The voyage took only a few hours. The Arryns never dared to give battle on the open sea.
Gulltown was one of the five largest cities in Westeros. It was protected by a high curtain wall reinforced with several towers. The massive and formidable Harbor Gate posed a particular challenge.
The landing operation was commanded directly by Jaime Lannister, with Loras Tyrell as his right hand. I had the sense not to take unnecessary risks, and I spent the entire operation aboard the Lion and Rose.
It all began with part of our fleet drawing closer to the docks and bombarding the buildings and walls with flaming arrows and pots filled with a highly flammable mixture based on pig fat.
I had considered attempting to use wildfire, but it was far too risky. The men lacked the necessary expertise, and a single mistake could have resulted in the wildfire destroying us instead. That was a technology that needed to be tested carefully and deliberately.
(End of Chapter)
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