Rhaegar led his retinue away from Seagull Town, and everyone followed Duke Jon to The Eyrie.
Duke Jon disliked sightseeing. After leaving The Eyrie, he didn't take Rhaegar to visit other Lords' cities. Rhaegar felt he was like a proud mountain eagle.
However, Rhaegar had an urgent mission. After it was done, he could leisurely travel through the Vale.
The Pale Mountains!
Nettle! Sheepstealer, the wild dragon! Perhaps they are all dead. I hope some useful clues remain.
The Pale Mountains, like a city wall, protected the most vital parts of the Vale.
The crescent falcon banner and the red dragon on black banner fluttered in the wind along the roads of the Vale. Villagers and minor Lords made way and saluted the procession.
Crossing wheat fields, seeing wildflowers, green grass, and villages, Rhaegar and Duke Jon arrived at The Gate of the Moon together.
The Gate of the Moon is at the foot of the Giant's Lance. It has a moat, guardrooms, and square towers within.
Above it are the Stone Castle, the Snow Castle, and the Sky Castle, and only then comes The Eyrie.
The Eyrie in its narrow sense is small, but in its broader sense, it has five layers of protection, making it a formidable and impregnable fortress.
"This is our Eyrie. For bustle and prosperity, The Eyrie is inferior to other cities. But for steepness and grandeur, The Eyrie is unique. The Eyrie is impregnable!" Duke Jon proudly pointed Rhaegar towards the towering hills. At a great height, there was a glimmering white light, and looking far into the sky, one could faintly see a white tower. That was The Eyrie, soaring high with the eagles.
Rhaegar smiled and did not refute Duke Jon. The Eyrie was naturally beyond human reach; the Targaryen Family had only conquered The Eyrie with the help of dragons.
The Eyrie is high and perilous, unable to accommodate too many people. Every winter, House Arryn comes to The Gate of the Moon, their summer palace, and the heir also serves as the Warden of The Gate of the Moon.
Outside the moat of The Gate of the Moon, a blond youth was leading a group of people to welcome Duke Jon and Prince Rhaegar. The youth had blond hair, blue eyes, and an aquiline nose, and was slightly older than Rhaegar.
"Welcome home, Uncle."
"And welcome to you, Prince Rhaegar." The blond youth's blue eyes seemed to hold a faint sorrow, but it didn't diminish his handsomeness.
Rhaegar knew who the youth was: Albert Arryn, Duke Jon's brother's son, the original first in line to inherit the Vale, and the Warden of The Gate of the Moon.
However, with the birth of Duke Jon's own son, young Albert had fallen into an awkward position. The position of Warden of The Gate of the Moon was precarious, and the fallen heir's situation was dangerous.
"You've done very well!" Duke Jon showed a kind smile, but Albert looked even more uneasy.
Rhaegar watched the two. The shift in power had already created a huge rift between them. Duke Jon had, with swift action, purged several of Albert's overly enthusiastic supporters. Even if Albert was naive, he understood what that meant. Moreover, power always makes people mature early.
The surrounding Vale Knights still had cold expressions; they were loyal only to the Duke.
"Enter the city!" Duke Jon raised his hand, and drums sounded. All the people flowed into The Gate of the Moon.
Especially numerous were Rhaegar's guards. Perhaps The Gate of the Moon rarely saw such a lively spectacle.
The weather hadn't fully warmed yet, which was perfect for training the guards and convenient for sweeping through The Pale Mountains.
Such a large population, requiring training, was also a burden on The Gate of the Moon.
After much thought, Rhaegar borrowed a temporary camp from Duke Arryn... not far from The Gate of the Moon, at the foot of the Giant's Lance, Rhaegar and his guards began to repair a temporary barracks.
Black banners with red dragons, and symmetrical banners of dragons and red eagles, fluttered as the warriors worked with great enthusiasm.
The Vale had plenty of timber, and Rhaegar's guards were all exceptionally talented.
Spruce, pine, and black mountain rock were all excellent materials.
The guards were Rhaegar's initial investment; he didn't need to worry much about their military pay.
This was one of the benefits of recruiting noble scions: they already had certain resources. The drawback was too many family connections, not being completely independent. But for now, attracting some angel investors was good enough; no need to overthink the rest.
Many guards sent letters to their fathers and brothers in Seagull Town. Marching tents, marble, soldiers' swords, medium-to-high quality armor, and provisions were also transported.
Rhaegar led them in building the camp, putting up simple houses and enclosing them with fences. Then they cleared land for cultivation, found water sources, and built training grounds, stables, and kitchens.
Rhaegar had Cesar coordinate the guards' specialties, making the best use of their talents. Those from merchant families dealing in grain served as quartermasters. Sons of decorating merchants managed infrastructure. Those impoverished second sons, strong and robust, were assigned to the assault team.
Rhaegar and his guards personally handled all matters.
Eating and living together, these guards quickly transformed into Rhaegar's mules, enduring hardship and labor.
Rhaegar led them in infrastructure, had several instructors train everyone together, and in their leisure time, he would hunt with the guards and falcons. Life was quite joyful.
Drawing a bow like the wind, riding a horse like a dragon, amidst the pastoral scenery of the Vale, Rhaegar felt himself slowly forgetting his original mission.
Duke Jon occasionally inspected Rhaegar's camp and found that the Prince's retinue was not just playing house; it was truly coalescing into a militarized force.
Prince Rhaegar organized a simple tug-of-war competition for his guards. All the guards stood on either side of a white line, eagerly competing.
The guards bore weights, pulled ropes, threw spears, and sparred with swords, their strength growing day by day. But Rhaegar had not yet told them where to unleash their accumulated energy and passion.
Duke Jon called Rhaegar into his chambers. "Are you going to war against the Mountain Clans?" Duke Jon asked Rhaegar, his tone slowly growing serious. The Vale was currently peaceful; the big powder keg was the Mountain Clans of The Pale Mountains.
Duke Jon understood that there was nothing in the Vale that truly interested Rhaegar; the only possibilities were the legends of Nettle and Sheepstealer, the wild dragon. Recruiting men and training soldiers was precisely to deal with the Mountain Clans; this was a premeditated war.
"Indeed!" Rhaegar nodded.
Duke Jon took a sharp breath and glared at Barristan, Cesar, Brynden, and the others. "The Prince is mad, and you are all mad. War is not child's play. Those mountain savages are ferocious, barbaric, and difficult to eradicate. The Prince is still young."
Barristan, Cesar, Brynden, and the others fell silent. Rhaegar had slowly convinced them.
Brynden and Barristan both craved honor and were responsible for protecting the Prince, while Cesar was both a mentor and a friend to the Prince.
"The Bloody Hand was already on the battlefield at eleven, and Ser Tywin's brother was the same. Why should I be any different?" Rhaegar said.
"The Fire Priestess and Nettle may not even be in The Pale Mountains. Besides, Nettle came from humble origins; what could she possibly have that's worth risking?" Duke Jon persuaded.
"If there truly is treasure hidden in The Pale Mountains, I would regret it immensely," Rhaegar responded.
Once the flowers bloomed and the mountain paths opened up, he would begin his dragon hunt.
give my full efforts to you all make happy but you guys did not support me even in small ways. im very exhausted.🫠more chapter available in p@tréøñ(Atoki_29)