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"There will come a day for vengeance," Doran told the Red Viper. "Once the solid grand alliance Jon Arryn built starts showing cracks. And right now, you and I have already seen some of those cracks forming."
The divisions between Robert and his brothers. The rifts between Robert and Cersei.
These differences would always exist, but it still wasn't the moment for House Martell to step into the arena of power.
"The Yronwoods have been pacified," Doran continued. "The Fowlers, the Manwoodys, and the rest of the war hawks still need your touch. As for House Dayne, Lord Alan is a grieving man. He's even more cautious than we are, and he won't stand against us." Doran laid it out calmly.
Dorne was a land that liked to go its own way, and Prince Doran wasn't as domineering as the other great lords of the Seven Kingdoms.
In Dorne the order of power ran: House Martell of Sunspear by the sea first, followed by House Yronwood, the Wardens of the Stone Way.
Third place usually went to either House Fowler, Wardens of the Prince's Pass, or House Dayne, the Kings of the Torrentine.
After them came House Blackmont at the headwaters of the Torrentine, the mad House Uller, and House Manwoody.
For years Doran and his brother had worked to balance and soothe every faction inside Dorne.
Doran had used his own son as leverage to steady the Yronwoods.
As for House Dayne, their blood ties to the Martells and their old marriages into the Targaryens left Doran completely at ease with them. Besides, Starfall sat far off on the western coast, and the Daynes had always preferred to stay a little removed from the center of things anyway.
The lord of Godsgrace, Lord Tremond Gargalen, Lord Fowler, Lord Dagos Manwoody, the Ullers of Hellholt, and the Wyls of the Boneway—these revenge-minded houses were Oberyn's responsibility to keep in line.
"I'll handle them," the Red Viper promised.
In the brothers' current plans, Viserys had quietly dropped out of sight.
They still held the treaty promising to help restore him to the throne, but as Robert's rule grew more secure the Dornish had cautiously entered a long period of silence and waiting.
Poor Viserys never knew until the day he died that he still had a betrothal waiting for him.
"I understand," Oberyn said. "But are there things we should tell Arianne?"
"I plan to wait until she's older," Doran replied, gazing at the blood-orange trees. One fruit had fallen to the ground, filling the air with its rich fragrance. "Arianne has her own duties. Quentyn will help keep the Yronwoods steady."
Doran's family life was a little strained. His wife, Mellario of Norvos, had returned home after giving birth to their youngest son. She had never forgiven him for sending their second son, Quentyn, to be fostered with the Yronwoods.
Arianne wasn't Oberyn's daughter after all, and the trouble with the Yronwoods had been of the Red Viper's own making, so even he couldn't offer much advice.
000
The journey to Starfall had taken Arthur considerable time, but the return trip went much faster.
Once they left Starfall and reached Oldtown they ditched the flashy flower ships and rode hard and dusty all the way back to Harrenhal.
With no more stops for trading goods or visiting castles, the pace picked up dramatically.
When Arthur had left Harrenhal he was still just a boy. When he returned he came back a celebrated name—the brightest rising star among the knights of the Seven Kingdoms.
He also brought back the new retainers he had recruited, plus gifts from Starfall and the Reach: fine Dornish sand steeds, Myrish crossbows, and all kinds of other treasures.
Arthur first paid his respects to his grandfather and grandmother. Afterward Lord Walter called him into the lord's solar.
The stone walls of the chamber were dominated by a huge golden field with a black bat sigil. Lord Walter and Arthur sat across from each other at the long table.
Walter Whent was not only a shrewd lord but a kind grandfather.
Arthur was the hope and future of House Whent—the perfect masterpiece Lord Walter had carefully sculpted.
Walter was very pleased with everything Arthur had accomplished: the ties he had strengthened with House Dayne, the things he had seen and learned on the road.
"You only visited Starfall in Dorne?" Lord Walter asked. "You didn't meet anyone from House Martell?"
"That's right, Grandfather," Arthur replied.
Lord Walter nodded. "Prince Doran is an extremely cautious man. I hear grief keeps him from appearing in public very often these days."
"He's being too cautious," Arthur thought, but kept the comment to himself.
"You won the championship on Dragonstone and earned a shining reputation for knighthood in the Reach and Dorne. I can now confidently hand over command of the family's military strength to you," Lord Walter said with clear satisfaction.
"Gladly," Arthur answered without hesitation. He already had his own inner circle; now he would take full control of Harrenhal's forces.
This was only natural. House Whent had only one remaining heir—Arthur himself. There were no strong cadet branches. Sooner or later all of this would fall to him to manage and revitalize.
And Arthur had already proven his ability and charisma.
"How many troops do we have right now, Grandfather?" Arthur asked.
"At our peak the household forces numbered around four thousand—similar to the old 'Red Lion' Reyne family of the Westerlands. After the defeat at the Trident and the heavy fines paid to the Iron Throne, we're down to roughly two to three thousand now. We lost a lot of our core knights and riders in the war. These numbers are just our own household troops—not counting the sellswords, freeriders, and hedge knights who come for our reputation and gold," Lord Walter explained carefully.
"But with the success of our sweet corn and carrots, the incorporation of Whitewalls, and especially your growing fame, restoring Harrenhal to its peak strength shouldn't be a problem in time. With Houses Darry and Mooton weakened, the freeriders and mercenaries of the Trident will naturally look to us first when choosing who to serve."
The pull of a great knight's name was immense.
That kind of martial charisma and renown could draw men to follow in a way gold alone never could.
"So our lands and population can support about four thousand household troops, while gold and knightly prestige can attract mercenaries," Arthur calculated.
Harrenhal's territories were rich. If they had a major port, Arthur felt they could field even more men.
No wonder the Freys had grown so bloated with troops in the original timeline—their household forces alone exceeded four thousand. The Freys were already wealthy, and with the royalist houses like Whent, Mooton, Darry, and Lefford all weakened, the Freys had been able to siphon strength across the eastern Riverlands like a sponge.
Now, with Arthur stepping in, the Freys would never grow that powerful. Instead House Whent would be the one reaping the benefits.
"Exactly," Lord Walter nodded. He recalled the vanished Red Lion with a sigh. "That was exactly how House Reyne of Castamere rose to prominence in the west. They could field four thousand men. Roger Reyne was an exceptional warrior—many considered him the finest fighter in the Westerlands. With plenty of allies and a reputation for courage that drew even more followers, he could muster eight thousand or more when needed. But he was too eager to confront Tywin. He marched into the trap with only two thousand men and ended up dead, his entire house destroyed."
"That's Tywin for you—ruthless and cold-blooded," Arthur said thoughtfully.
Tywin had opened the bloody chapter of this power struggle, and the game was far from over.
"Precisely," Lord Walter said, voicing his deeper concern. "Tywin has always been merciless. People learned that lesson at Castamere, Tarbeck Hall, and King's Landing. The problem is that the Riverlands sits right on the Westerlands' doorstep. That's why we need to drill our troops hard. The Lannister men are well-equipped and have far more training time than the average lord's forces."
Many Riverlands lords had bought into the illusion of a long, peaceful summer and let their guard down.
But old defeated lords like Walter Whent harbored a deep, instinctive distrust and hostility toward Tywin Lannister.
"Then I'll start by focusing on the cavalry and longbowmen," Arthur said. "I want to build the New Three Rivers Legion!"
Crossbowmen were useful too, but their shorter range limited their role. Even so, the Myrish crossbows Arthur had brought back would still deliver a deadly rhythm on the battlefield.
"Cavalry are the true elite of any house," Lord Walter explained in detail. "Even among our own Whent forces, many are just peasants armed with scythes, pitchforks, and wooden spears. The heart of our strength has always been the riders."
The Lannisters operated the same way, except their standing forces were larger and far better equipped and trained.
Lord Walter might no longer be a fierce warrior, but his administrative talent was unquestionable. He had a sharp eye for numbers.
"Grandfather, I want full plate armor and proper warhorses," Arthur said. "I'm going to forge House Whent's cavalry into something formidable. The men I brought back—Rolly, Lothor, Clarence—they're all solid fighters."
"Very good," Lord Walter said, giving his full support. "You'll have the family's complete backing when it comes to coin, armor, and horses. Training takes time, of course. You won't create an army overnight."
"That's fine," Arthur replied with a bright smile. For now he would work with what he had.
"I also have some other recruiting prospects," Arthur added. "The Iron Throne punished quite a few Riverlands knights after the war. Combined with the fines paid by House Mooton, Darry, and Lefford, many good riders were forced to become landless freeriders wandering the Riverlands. They would make excellent recruits."
"Those men are definitely worth pursuing," Lord Walter said, eyes lighting up.
With enough gold and reputation, raising a respectable army wasn't nearly as difficult as it seemed.
Arthur could already picture it—a black whirlwind sweeping across the land. The Three Rivers Black Knights he would lead.