Inside the war room, the air was as heavy as iron, the only sound the scratching of Euron's fingertip across the chart. His figure was as upright as a mast, his shadow winding over the map, seeming to already loom over the emerald archipelago.
"The Summer Isles have many small islands, scattered like stars, their forces dispersed." Euron's voice was grim and clear. "This time, we will split our forces and attack. Like claws closing in, we will make it difficult for them to attend to both head and tail."
His finger pressed heavily on the sea area between Walano and Lys to the north.
"Once the war begins, the nobles of Walano will never sit and wait for death. There will surely be ships attempting to flee north or seek reinforcements. King Balon—" Euron looked at his brother. "Your Wrath of the Grey King will lead twenty longships to lie across this route like an iron chain. Do not let a single plank escape, nor allow any outside flies to buzz in!"
"Understood!" Balon responded in a low voice, a fierce light flickering in his eyes. Balon did not resist his younger brother Euron's command because of his status as King of the Iron Islands, for Euron was the commander-in-chief of this expedition plan, and Balon trusted his wisdom.
Euron's finger then slid south, landing on broader waters.
"Donnell Stonehouse of Saltcliffe, Baelor Blacktyde of Blacktyde, Edwin Ramirez, Victarion Greyjoy—" His gaze swept over the two island lords and the former pirate alliance leader. "You are responsible for blockading the line from the Summer Sea to the Isle of Naath. The mission is the same: no entry, no exit! I want the Summer Isles to become a completely isolated island."
"Yes!" The two lords and Edwin Ramirez accepted the order solemnly.
His fingertip landed on Jhala in the south.
"Prince Jalabhar, you will act with Rodrik Harlaw of Harlaw. The target points straight to your homeland—the Red Flower Vale and the Sweet Lotus Vale. You must control both valleys as quickly as possible, raise the banner of your uprising, and simultaneously spread word of your status as King of the Summer Isles to all islands."
"Understood!" Rodrik Harlaw thumped his chest heavily. Prince Jalabhar nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath, his eyes firm.
"Ebonhead, which guards the gateway to Jhala, will be conquered by Lord Gorold Goodbrother of Great Wyk."
"Omboru will be dealt with by me personally leading the Zhiyuan and twenty longships."
"The shipyards of the Isle of Birds are crucial. Lord Dunstan Drumm of Old Wyk, it is handed to you. You must take control as soon as possible."
"The Isle of Women and other scattered islands," his gaze turned to Obara Sand and Nymeria Sand, as well as Eldred Orkwood of Orkmont, "will be your responsibility to sweep clean. Leave no future trouble."
Orders flew like unsheathed blades, precisely hitting their respective targets. The massive Iron Islands fleet, under this direction, transformed into several deadly torrents of steel, about to pounce on the unsuspecting emerald archipelago.
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The figures of the sisters Obara Sand and Nymeria Sand carried a Dornish aura distinctly different from the Ironborn.
They were the bastard daughters of the "Red Viper" Oberyn Martell. Their appearance in the expedition sequence was not Euron's original plan, but a variable added later.
Obara Sand was slightly older, her build sturdy and solid, muscles tense and powerful under her leather armor. She was born to an Oldtown whore while Oberyn was studying at the Citadel in his youth. She cared nothing for her birth or appearance, dedicating herself entirely to forging herself into a pure warrior. Her skin was darkened by constant exposure to the sun, her face resolute, even rough, lacking traditional beauty. A tempered spear leaned at her side, and a whip coiled at her waist like a dormant viper.
Nymeria Sand presented a different style. Her mother was a noblewoman from the Free City of Volantis, and this bloodline endowed her with an elegant posture and an almost mysterious temperament. She was strikingly beautiful, possessing eyes as dark and deep as eternal night, with a long, shiny black braid hanging down her back. Beneath this beauty lay deadly danger; dozens of cold-glinting throwing knives were densely pinned to her slender waist. She was an expert with throwing knives.
They appeared here not for their looks or combat prowess.
But for the Isle of Women.
On the sea directly north of Walano sat a solitary island named the "Isle of Women," its outline looming in the sea mist. In more ancient, almost forgotten times, it was called "Abulu."
This island carried a heavy memory.
In the distant past, when the dragon shadows of Valyria blotted out the sun, the great warrior queen Nymeria led countless surviving Rhoynar women and children, like fallen leaves driven by a storm, drifting to this island to seek respite. Their weary footsteps had trodden the beaches here; their tears had mixed into the salty seawater here.
Later, Queen Nymeria made the decision recorded in history to gather the "Ten Thousand Ships" and set sail again to find the promised land granted by fate, eventually taking root on the banks of the Greenblood in Dorne.
But not everyone was willing to face the unpredictable sea and unknown path again. Several thousand people, perhaps too exhausted, or perhaps having developed an attachment to this land that temporarily sheltered them, chose to stay behind.
Their descendants, like resilient vines, lived and multiplied on this island, continuing to this day. Therefore, the residents living on the "Isle of Women" today all had the blood of that legendary queen flowing in their veins; they were all descendants of Nymeria.
Years later, the ruler of Dorne, the Princess of Dorne, had not forgotten these distant kin left abroad. She had sent envoys across the sea to contact the queen of the island, sincerely extending an invitation, hoping they could return to the land their ancestors ultimately chose—Dorne.
The island's queen gave a gentle but firm reply—she thanked the kindness but stated that her people had long lived and worked in peace here and had no intention of moving the entire clan again.
Although the return did not happen, a bond based on common blood and history tightly connected Sunspear of Dorne with this solitary island. Both sides maintained friendly contact and polite exchanges; this friendship, weathering storms, had never been broken.
Obara Sand and Nymeria Sand had been personally sent by Prince Doran to live on the Isle of Women for several years in their youth. That isolated land not only sheltered them but also honed their martial arts. The female warriors on the island, bearing ancient heritage, taught their unique combat skills without reservation—Obara's tricky and fierce whip techniques and Nymeria's unerring throwing knife skills were both branded with the unique combat mark of the Isle of Women.
Arranging for them to land on the island was a continuation of the thousand-year bond between Dorne and this island.
While the Iron Islands fleet swept the Summer Isles like a steel storm, they were to ensure the safety of this island with special ties—either keeping it out of the war or having it join the Iron Islands' side, rather than moving toward becoming an enemy. On the other hand, if the expedition succeeded and the Summer Isles were reunited, Prince Doran hoped to use this blood kinship and old friendship to persuade the island's queen to lead her people back to Dorne's embrace. If the queen ultimately still refused to move, they must also ensure the status and future of these direct descendants of Nymeria in the Summer Isles, maintaining the friendship across the Narrow Sea between Dorne and this island.
Obara Sand and Nymeria Sand embarked on the voyage to the Isle of Women again after many years. But this time, they were no longer apprentices needing protection, but messengers and mobilizers.
Bearing Prince Doran's token, they would meet the island's queen, rally the female warriors who inherited the blood of the Rhoynar warriors, let the ancient banners fly for the new uprising, and make the power of the Isle of Women a force in this war of conquest.
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