The Ironborn reavers, having recently plundered the Westerlands, were currently holed up in their dens, digesting their spoils and enjoying the fruits of their raid. This lull allowed Paxter Redwyne's fleet to arrive safely at Lannisport.
As the largest port in the Westerlands, Lannisport had more than enough room to accommodate over a hundred warships.
It wasn't long before Paxter met with Jon.
Paxter held no particular prejudice against bastards. After all, he had spent years leading his fleet north and south, sailing as far as the Free Cities; he had seen too much of the world to care about such things.
His sailors, however, were stir-crazy from their time at sea. The moment they hit dry land and received their pay, they went howling into the city, scattering their coin—and their seed—throughout the local brothels. The port was already teeming with baseborn children who knew their mothers but would never know their fathers.
To Paxter, Jon appeared to be just an ordinary young man. Yet, considering this youth was a fierce warrior, had claimed the Lordship of Casterly Rock by his own hand, and had even won the heart of Margaery Tyrell, Paxter had expected him to be arrogant beyond measure. He was surprised to find that Jon was actually a courteous and well-mannered young man.
Jon did not put on the airs of a high lord in front of him at all.
Paxter's appearance, on the other hand, was somewhat surprising to Jon—particularly the shock of messy auburn hair on his head, which gave him a rather roguish, uninhibited look.
The group soon arrived at the war camp to hear Jon's "brilliant plan" regarding the rain.
"My Lord, you mean to say that ships can be used to intercept rain from the heavens? Please forgive my dullness, but I truly cannot fathom how such a thing is done." Since he wasn't familiar with Jon personally, Paxter stuck to formal titles.
"It works like this," Jon began. " back in King's Landing, both Tyrion and I utilized Wildfire. Later, I used Wildfire traps against King Stannis and the Westerlands' armies. I observed that wherever Wildfire burned, heavy rains would fall shortly after. Therefore, I intend to use Wildfire to intercept the rain clouds gathering above."
Jon knew that the formation of rain required "condensation nuclei." The heat generated by Wildfire far exceeded that of ordinary fuel. This intense heat would create enough lift to send rising ash and smoke into the clouds, providing the necessary nuclei for the moisture to cling to.
Combined with the localized thermal currents caused by the flames, he could effectively engineer "artificial rainfall"—a feat of modern science—right here in technologically primitive Westeros. His goal was to force the rain intended for Casterly Rock to fall prematurely over the sea.
However, the scientific principles behind this were nearly impossible for these lords, who lacked any education in physics or meteorology, to grasp. Listening to Jon's explanation, Brynden Tully and the others looked blank. Ser Loras Tyrell simply kept muttering under his breath, "Will this actually work? Is this really going to work?"
In truth, even if the plan to intercept the rain failed, Jon had slower, more insidious methods at his disposal—such as using ravens to spread plague within Casterly Rock.
It was entirely possible, but he hesitated for two reasons: first, it was a wicked, dishonorable tactic; second, Casterly Rock was where he intended to live. Soiling his own future nest would be incredibly foolish.
While the others were still trying to wrap their heads around Jon's strategy, Paxter suddenly shot up from his seat, his eyes wide with alarm. "My Lord... My Lord, surely you don't intend to set my ships on fire?!"
Seeing Paxter's visceral reaction, Jon realized just how precious the fleet was to him.
"How could I?" Jon reassured him. "I merely wish to use your ships to burn the Wildfire at sea. We will use large cauldrons or similar vessels, lined with a layer of soil, to contain the flames. The goal is only to stop the rain, not to torch your fleet."
"But..." Paxter looked torn. He knew about Wildfire. Ever since hearing the horrific reports from the Battle of the Blackwater, he had strictly forbidden his fleet from entering narrow waters.
He had even doubled the guard, decreeing that anyone caught bringing flammable or explosive materials toward the port would face a single punishment: beheading. Now, Jon wanted to play with Wildfire on his decks. How could he not be worried?
Jon tried to soothe his anxieties. "Rest assured, Ser Paxter. Casterly Rock does not lack for gold. If, by some ill chance, a ship is scorched, I will use the spoils of Casterly Rock to compensate you double. I ask only that you help me in this."
At the mention of Casterly Rock's vaults, the mood in the room shifted. Everyone was intrigued.
Leaving the Tyrell brothers aside—who were mostly investing in Jon for the future rights to the Westerlands' gold mines—the others had their own reasons. They had taken on all the costs of this campaign themselves, never truly expecting Jon to breach the castle so soon.
Rickard Karstark was here to repay a debt of honor. Black Walder was investing in favors. Melisandre and the three thousand men from the Iron Throne were technically a reward for Jon taking King's Landing and crowning Stannis.
After all, Stannis was currently poor as a beggar; he couldn't exactly give Storm's End to Jon.
Brynden the Blackfish was there partly to atone for letting Tywin Lannister escape, and partly because the war was happening on Riverrun's doorstep.
In short, everyone was currently operating at a loss.
Jon had only been in the Westerlands a short time and had strictly forbidden his soldiers from looting, so there had been no way for his allies to profit. But if they could truly take Casterly Rock... the castle's vaults would feed them all for a lifetime.
That was the accumulated wealth of House Lannister over thousands of years. Even if the liquid gold was low, the priceless artifacts and treasures would be endless.
This was the family that famously "shat gold." Tywin alone had loaned the Crown over three million gold dragons in the last decade.
In other words, the wealth inside Casterly Rock was enough for everyone in the room to glut themselves until they burst.
But all of this depended on actually taking the castle.
---
Down at the docks of Lannisport, Paxter ordered the sails removed from more than half of his warships to reduce the risk of fire.
Stripped of their canvas, the great ships looked bald and desolate, which gave Paxter a sinking feeling.
He had heard that Stannis's fleet had also lowered their sails before entering the Blackwater, yet they still met a fiery end, consumed by the green hell of Wildfire.
However, he kept about fifty warships fully rigged, along with a dozen more positioned beneath Casterly Rock itself. These fifty ships were his insurance against Tywin's fleet.
At worst, I can still save fifty ships, Paxter thought to himself. Then he shook his head, driving the unlucky thought from his mind. No, my fleet will be fine.
Paxter forced himself to calm down. Assisting Jon was an order from his liege lord, Mace Tyrell; he had to obey.
He looked at the massive clay braziers lining the decks. It had taken days to fire them in the kilns, but if they protected his ships, Paxter considered it time well spent.
In addition to the braziers, the decks were covered in a thick layer of damp soil to catch any stray sparks.
Jon was now aboard the flagship. Paxter walked over to him.
"My Lord, we are ready. We can set sail at your command," Paxter said with a slight bow.
Jon glanced up at the sky. It was a dull, heavy grey—the sign of impending rain. In several spots, the dark clouds hung thicker and lower than anywhere else.
"Thank you for your hard work, Ser Paxter," Jon said, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Today, we break the myth that Casterly Rock can never fall."