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The Arbor, Vintner's Keep.
Paxter Redwyne stood by the window, his slender fingers tapping lightly against his crystal goblet. The golden wine inside rippled with each tap.
"Well?" He turned suddenly, his robes brushing against the gilded edge of the oak table. His voice was thick with anticipation.
Desmond Redwyne's lips curled into a cruel grin. "As you commanded, My Lord. We disguised ourselves as pirates and burned everything at the Peach Garden Manor to the ground. We killed everyone we found.
"Taking advantage of the fact that most of Beaconwatch's garrison had been called away to war, leaving the defenses weak, we were thorough. We didn't even spare the wine cellars. It will be two or three years before they can produce another bottle of Amber Peach Nectar."
Paxter couldn't hide his delight. "Beautifully done."
Hearing the extent of the destruction Desmond had wrought, Paxter let out a long breath of relief. The stone weighing on his heart was finally lifted.
He knew all too well that the combination of Arthur's franchise model and the popularity of Amber Peach Nectar would inevitably cut into the market share of the Arbor's golden vintages.
But he had no desire to copy the franchise model and share the meat in his bowl with others for nothing.
So, seizing the opportunity while Snow led his troops north to fight House Blackmont, Paxter had executed a drastic measure: removing the fuel from under the cauldron. He had sent his cousin Desmond to lead a portion of the Redwyne Fleet, disguised as pirates, to destroy the orchards.
The beauty of the plan lay in the pirate disguise. It saved face on the surface.
Even if Snow discovered it was him and found evidence, as long as Paxter denied it to his death, even the Iron Throne couldn't do anything to him.
And Snow certainly couldn't lead an army across the sea to bypass the Redwyne Fleet and touch him. He could only stare at the ocean and swallow this bitter pill in silence.
"How is the war going between Snow and House Blackmont?" Paxter asked.
"Word is that Lady Larra Blackmont gave her two children to Snow as wards—a squire and a handmaiden. Snow also arranged a marriage for her," Desmond replied.
Paxter narrowed his eyes. "Snow is the 'Sword of the Morning' after all; his martial prowess is extraordinary. I had hoped that if Blackmont won, we could have partnered with them to develop the Amber Peach Nectar."
He sighed, then added cautiously, "Keep ships watching Starfall's movements. I don't fear them landing on the Arbor, but it's always better to solve problems at sea."
If Snow was crazy enough to try a surprise landing on the Arbor, not only would he have to evade the Redwyne Fleet's interception, but even if he landed, the worst-case scenario for Paxter would be retreating into his castle. The fleet could then blockade Snow's supply lines. Even the bravest warriors would break without food.
Just like during Robert's Rebellion, when he and Mace Tyrell besieged Storm's End. Stannis Baratheon was a disciplined commander, but in the end, he was reduced to eating rats inside his castle.
"I have ships monitoring them constantly," Desmond replied.
Paxter nodded approvingly. "I trust you to handle it."
"I don't think they plan to invade the Arbor."
Paxter raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
"They are building lighthouses and beacon towers along the coast, not building or commandeering ships," Desmond explained.
"However, once those lighthouses and beacons are finished, destroying the orchards again won't be as easy as this time. The risk will be much higher, and failure a real possibility."
"There is always a moment of laxity or weakness." Paxter shrugged indifferently.
"Besides, this method is dishonorable. I don't intend to use it to suppress Starfall forever.
"After a stalemate, when Snow recognizes reality, I will offer him a way out. He will naturally return to the negotiating table to discuss cooperation with us."
"My cousin is truly far-sighted," Desmond praised.
---
East of the Peach Gardens, on a sun-drenched hill.
Most of the victims of the attack were buried here.
In the distance, the charred remains of the peach orchard looked like an ugly scar, stinging the eyes of anyone who looked at it. Even from here, the smell of burnt wood hung heavy in the air.
"My Lord, this is Master Pate's grave," Jerry said, his eyes swollen red and his voice raspy with grief.
Arthur gazed at the simple stone marker before him. He knelt on one knee and placed a single flower on the earth.
"I still remember the talent cultivation plan you proposed to me back in Braavos," Arthur said softly, as if speaking to an old friend. "You said we should open an orphanage, take in orphans or commoners' children.
"You said that for a piece of black bread and a bowl of gruel, they would be eager to learn whatever knowledge we taught them."
I never expected the Gods to play such a cruel joke—taking you, and taking the orphanage you built.
But it doesn't matter. I will build more orphanages in Starfall to provide food and education for children. And I will name them after you.
Arthur ran his fingers over the rough stone surface, swearing a vow. "As for the House Redwyne, who killed you and the other victims here, who burned the orchards and the orphanage... I will make them pay. They will be punished."
Beside him, Jerry suddenly collapsed to his knees, tears swirling in his red, swollen eyes. "My Lord, I beg you. Let me fulfill Master Pate's last wish.
"In my eyes, he was a great man. He taught me, he raised me. He only beat me when I didn't listen. On the night the pirates attacked, it was he who saved me..."
Jerry's tears finally broke the dam. "When he pushed me away, the pirates' blades were already... The Gods should have let him stay and taken me instead."
Arthur didn't speak. He simply helped the boy up and led him into the burnt orchard. The charred trunks looked like twisted corpses, and the air was thick with the smell of charcoal.
Arthur walked up to a peach tree at random. The trunk was blackened by fire and snapped in two. The half connected to the roots was partially carbonized.
"Take care of this orchard first," Arthur said.
As he spoke, he used his hand to brush away the carbonized and weathered parts of the trunk. Inside the pitch-black wood, a shocking patch of emerald green appeared.
[Peach Garden Oath]: Guarantees the survival of peach trees within a specified half-league radius and accelerates their growth. (The harsher the environment, the slower the growth.)
"I like the words of the Ironborn: What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger." Arthur looked at the tender green shoot, starkly visible against the black ruin.
"Since you wish to inherit Pate's legacy, you must do better than him."
"How... how is this possible?" Jerry stared in disbelief, reaching out with his eight fingers to touch the green shoot. "Are the other trees like this too?"
Without waiting for an answer, Jerry ran like the wind to another tree, and then another.
Arthur watched quietly as the boy darted through the blackened forest, finally returning to him covered in soot.
"My Lord." Jerry clenched his left hand, which had only three fingers, into a fist.
"I swear by the Old Gods and the New, I will take care of this orchard. In the future, I will build orphanages in Starfall's lands... no... I will build orphanages across all of Westeros.
"I will do even better than Master Pate!"