More than fifty thousand soldiers from the Reach marched steadily along the Rose Road toward King's Landing. They rested at night and pushed forward at an accelerated pace during the day.
The gaunt, bald Lord Randyll Tarly, instantly recognizable by the jeweled greatsword hanging across his back, personally oversaw the nightly patrol arrangements after receiving leave from Lord Mace Tyrell.
Each evening, the army established camps along the Rose Road. Noble banners fluttered in the night breeze.
At the center stood the golden rose of House Tyrell. Surrounding it were the banners of House Rowan's golden tree, House Tarly's hunting knight, House Florent's fox wreathed in flowers, House Redwyne's grapes, and House Oakheart's oak leaves. Countless lesser lords of the Reach had also answered the call.
Nearly every great house of Highgarden was represented.
Even House Hightower had sent troops, though the powerful and traditionally reserved family seemed reluctant to become deeply involved in the conflict, contributing only a modest force.
Outside Lord Mace's grand command tent, spearmen wearing gilded half-helms and green cloaks trimmed with gold stood guard. The golden rose of Highgarden was embroidered proudly upon their chests.
Inside, flames crackled from a large brazier.
Lord Mace Tyrell sat comfortably in a chair, dressed in a luxurious green velvet robe lined with sable fur.
His two sons accompanied him.
Ser Loras Tyrell, the famed Knight of Flowers.
And his elder brother, Garlan the Gallant.
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," Mace declared.
"The coming war for King's Landing will reshape the entire realm."
"The Reach has always carried the kingdom on its shoulders. We feed half of Westeros, including that stinking city of King's Landing, yet people only remember our importance when war breaks out."
"It's certainly an opportunity," Garlan replied, "but only if we know how to seize it."
"Exactly."
Mace nodded vigorously.
During Robert's Rebellion, the Reach had backed the losing side. As a result, House Tyrell found itself pushed away from the center of power after the war. Eagles, wolves, fish, and stags dominated the royal court, while House Tyrell received almost nothing in return for its strength and wealth.
Even House Lannister had gained influence through marriage.
House Tyrell had not.
For a region as powerful as the Reach, such treatment was deeply frustrating.
Especially now.
The long summer had greatly increased the Reach's prosperity, allowing Highgarden to field an even larger army than before.
"No matter what happens," Mace said firmly, looking at his sons, "the two of you must demonstrate the glory of House Tyrell in this war."
"Remember your ancestor, Reo Longthorn."
"He should be your example."
"Yes, Father."
Both Garlan and Loras nodded.
Reo Tyrell, known throughout history as Longthorn, had been one of House Tyrell's greatest heroes.
He was a legendary warrior, a renowned tournament champion, and perhaps the finest jouster Westeros had ever seen.
Even centuries later, knights still spoke of his achievements with admiration.
"This is why I appointed you as vanguard commander, Garlan," Mace continued.
"In the past, Randyll Tarly always led my armies."
"But now my sons are grown men."
"I cannot allow Randyll to claim all the glory."
Mace understood his own limitations.
He had always dreamed of becoming a warrior like Robert Baratheon or Reo Longthorn—heroes whose deeds shook the Seven Kingdoms.
Unfortunately, he lacked their natural talent.
His sons, however, were different.
Both Garlan and Loras possessed genuine skill and ability.
If anyone could bring glory to House Tyrell on the battlefield, it was them.
Then Mace sighed heavily.
"And poor Willas."
"Damn that Red Viper."
The thought immediately soured his mood.
His eldest son and heir had been permanently crippled because of Oberyn Martell.
The incident had poisoned relations between Dorne and the Reach for years.
"Storm's End would have been a fine match," Mace said regretfully.
"They say Blood of the Storm is handsome, charismatic, and an exceptional commander."
"Broad shoulders. Strong physique. Long legs."
"A true legend."
"Half the girls in Westeros want to share his bed, and half the boys want to be him."
"Unfortunately, he already has a fiancée."
"And I refuse to marry Margaery to the descendant of that wretched House Florent."
Loras looked somewhat disappointed.
Not long ago, he and Renly Baratheon had been among the most admired figures in the Seven Kingdoms.
Now a new hero had captured everyone's attention.
"Finding a worthy husband for Margaery is still preferable to backing a failed king," Garlan said calmly.
"And the generous terms offered by House Lannister only prove they have very few bargaining chips left."
Mace nodded thoughtfully.
"Garlan, what do you think of the coming war?"
"The Imp, Tyrion Lannister, can make good use of King's Landing's defenses," Garlan replied.
"However, Blood of the Storm has cut off the city's food supply and possesses a significant numerical advantage."
"Overall, Blood of the Storm has the better chance of victory."
Loras agreed.
"Sieges are always difficult, but King's Landing is a city, not a fortress."
"The defensive pressure is much greater."
"And judging by recent reports, the common people already hate Tyrion."
"That's true."
Mace stroked his beard.
"King's Landing isn't Storm's End."
"No matter who wins, we need to ensure we're standing on the victorious side."
"Then we must distinguish ourselves in battle," Garlan said.
"Only then will we earn the right to share in the rewards."
"Exactly."
Mace grinned.
"Everyone claims they're fighting for honor."
"But most are fighting for profit."
"Rowan and Redwyne both want seats on the Small Council."
"Redwyne also wants decades of exemption from wine taxes."
"Tarly is even greedier. He wants a ministerial position."
"As for the other lords, they dream of castles, villages, forests, rivers, and wards to increase their influence."
"Whether the Westerlands win or lose, everyone hopes to gain something."
What Mace did not reveal was his own ambition.
He dreamed of becoming Hand of the King.
And he wanted Margaery to become queen.
If fortune favored House Tyrell, he might even secure an additional fertile domain for Garlan.
Although he believed Blood of the Storm was likely to win, Garlan remained cautious.
"I still recommend sending more scouts and advancing carefully."
"We should commit fully only after the situation becomes clear."
"That way, even if we gain little, we won't suffer catastrophic losses."
"Agreed."
Mace immediately approved the suggestion.
---
At dawn, the warship Tiger emerged from the morning mist.
Its sails glowed faintly beneath the pale sunlight.
Soon more ships followed.
Then more.
And more.
The elite vessels of the Valyrian fleet sailed together with reinforcements from Slaver's Bay and the powerful fleets of Lys.
Marajo stood at the bow, watching the growing armada.
"This truly is a gamble."
"You have no choice, my lord," said Vaqiro, the Red Priest.
"It is the only way to restore the glory of the Tiger Party."
Marajo frowned.
"I have few allies."
"Especially in Westeros."
"And the war I am about to wage feels almost suicidal."
"Few allies does not mean no allies," Vaqiro replied confidently.
"House Lannister is already fighting Blood of the Storm."
"Your arrival will force the stag to fight on two fronts."
He smiled coldly.
"Only bold wars create great victories."
Marajo remained silent for a moment before nodding.
"Perhaps you're right."
"Four hundred years ago, the expansion of the Tiger Party was halted."
"And among those who opposed us was Blood of the Storm's ancestor."
"What an interesting coincidence."
The Red Priest's eyes gleamed in the firelight.
"Burn another sacrifice."
"We must accelerate our advance."
"As you command, my lord."
Vaqiro bowed and departed, already searching for another unfortunate victim to offer to the flames.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)