In the 300th year after the Conquest, a new year began. The War of the Four Kings, sharply judged by historians as a war of succession, had come quickly and scattered just as quickly.
The false king Joffrey had been torn apart by the mob in King's Landing, while "Storm King" Renly Baratheon had been thrown to the Wall in The North.
At sea, Balon Greyjoy, the "King of the Iron Islands and The North," had been murdered on Pyke, while "Crow's Eye" Euron Greyjoy had his skull smashed in Oldtown.
Across the vastness of Westeros, only a single corner of the Westerlands still clung to the rule of "King Tommen," resisting the true king. But anyone with sense knew they were beasts trapped in the lion's den.
What did the lions have to fight all the other realms with, let alone the invincible, unmatched "Dragonlord Storm"? The royal couple had three Dragons that were growing with astonishing speed, as if drinking from the tide of magic itself.
Even the Dragonhorn could not control those three Dragons.
Crow's Eye's invasion had been the lions' only chance. Euron had been vicious and cunning, and his power extraordinary, but even after revealing every trump card he had, Crow's Eye still proved no match for Gendry. What hope did the lions have?
Along The Roseroad from Oldtown to Highgarden, the autumn wind was crisp and clear.
The three Dragons, growing stronger by the day, danced high in the sky. The largest, Balerion, "the reborn Black Dread," now had a wingspan of more than twenty-five feet.
The other two Dragons, the green dragon and the white dragon, were already larger than warhorses, and the sight of them alone was enough to inspire fear.
"The Blood Kraken's flesh, carrying a touch of magic, really was a powerful tonic," Gendry thought.
Beneath the Dragons' shadows, the army escorting King Gendry and his queen looked like a sea of gold, silver, and steel.
The lords, knights, and squires returning victorious from Oldtown rode their fine horses forward, proud and elated.
The king's golden quartered banners could be seen everywhere, streaming in the wind from long poles.
House Tyrell's green field and golden rose, and House Martell's golden spear piercing the sun, hung from shorter poles.
There were also the pebble runes of House Royce, House Tarly's striding huntsman, House Crabb's wild ox giant throwing a pine, House Swann's black and white swans, and more besides.
There was even the sickle banner of The Reader. Rodrik the Reader had volunteered to follow Gendry north to slaughter the lions.
On the sinners' Longspears in the procession were mounted the heads of "Crow's Eye" Euron Greyjoy, "the First Warrior of the Iron Islands" Andrik, the Iron Fleet commander "the Barber" Nute, "One-Ear," "the Lame," and others.
Had Victarion's head been found, a few more would have been added to the Longspears.
There were also the heads of Crow's Eye's bastards, mute crewmen, lackeys, Red Oarsman, Left-Hand, and the rest.
"Longface" Jon Myre, "Left-Hand" Lucas Codd, "Harren Half-Hoare," "Red Oarsman," "Bastard" Kemmett Pyke, "Freeborn" Rodrik, and "Browntooth" Torwold.
There should also have been the head of "the Knight" Harras Harlaw, who had died earliest.
But Rodrik Harlaw, the first man from the Iron Islands to guide them and surrender, begged bitterly for mercy. The Reader was also a man Gendry valued, the vanguard of the faction opposing the Old Way.
So Gendry returned the knight's head to The Reader, plunging The Reader back into a crisis of succession.
Clad in black armor and a golden cloak, Gendry rode through the autumn landscape. But with the new year beginning, autumn was coming to an end, and preparing for winter was the true matter at hand.
The army followed The Roseroad through the fertile fields of The Reach, passing estates, villages, orchards, and broad stretches of land.
"The Reach truly deserves its name as the granary of the Seven Kingdoms," Gendry praised.
The North and Dorne were one cold and one hot. The Westerlands were mountainous, the Stormlands full of forests and hills, the Vale's lands too fragmented, and the Crownlands too small. The only region that could rival The Reach was the Riverlands, and the Riverlands had been ravaged by war.
"That is true, Your Grace," Garlan Tyrell said. "The Reach has always had the habit of storing grain as well. But the long summer lasted too long. I fear many have forgotten the Horn of Winter."
"Yes. It seems we can only gather this final half-season of grain."
"May the gods bless us with a short winter," Garlan prayed.
If it truly became a ten-year winter, and everyone stretched out their hands to beg food from The Reach, even emptying Highgarden would not provide enough grain.
Gendry's gaze swept over the fertile land. Winter was long, and this winter, even The Reach would likely see snow.
The Reach, with its wide plains, fertile soil, plentiful rivers, and lower latitude, had raised the largest population.
From a military standpoint, however, it had little natural defense. The Stormlands at least had the great storms to shield them from invasions across the Narrow Sea and from the Three Daughters.
The Reach, by contrast, had long fought back and forth with Krakens, lions, stags, and Dornishmen from every direction.
Like the Riverlands, The Reach had been attended to by too many great powers at once. That was a blessing no land could easily bear.
Fortunately, House Gardener had once been deeply rooted in The Reach, and The Reach itself had the depth and strength to endure. Otherwise, it might have fallen like the Riverlands, becoming the battlefield of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Long live the king!"
"Long live the king!"
"The invincible light of knighthood, the soul of the Warrior!"
"The Triumphant One!"
"The Triumphant One!"
As the golden army and the Dragons passed by, the small lords of The Reach, landed knights, merchant caravans, and farmers along The Roseroad knelt and bowed to the king and the golden wheelhouse.
The Reach was the birthplace of chivalry, and its people always held the greatest goodwill toward a handsome and warlike king.
Moreover, he had defeated the most loathsome enemy of all, the Ironborn. In the age of the First Men, the Gardener kings had fought Ironborn raiders for three centuries. They were old enemies indeed.
Everyone was excited, greedily searching the sky for the shadows of Dragons.
"Dragons. Those are the king's Dragons."
"A black dragon, a white dragon, and a green dragon."
"Those are real Dragons, not like the last dragon my ancestor saw in King's Landing. That one had shriveled wings, looked sickly, and could not fly at all."
The people of The Reach had not seen true Dragons flying for one or two hundred years, and they could not help raising their faces to watch this miracle return to the world.
Besides, even when Dragons had been at their height, there had only been a few dozen at one time, and many of them never left Dragonstone.
"Ah, there are Krakens in the procession too. Look!"
"They really are Krakens. It seems those fishermen's tales were true."
People pointed and murmured. The onlookers also saw the Kraken bones, including a small Kraken about thirty meters long that had deliberately been preserved as a specimen.
To prevent rot, the other Krakens had been stripped of their flesh, which was roasted and kept as Dragon food.
The huge bones of the Blood Kraken, the bones of the small Krakens that had been stranded and died, the two Sphinxes, and the remains of the stone beast were all carried by wagons north along the road.
These things looked large, but Krakens were mostly internal bone and cartilage, so they were not actually that heavy.
As for the Sphinxes and stone beasts, they were imitations of the flying principles of Dragons and birds. Although their exteriors were stone, combined with crystal and steel, they had Dragonbone frameworks inside that allowed them to fly high, so they were lighter than they appeared.
To ensure flight, these stone beasts inevitably had to sacrifice weight.
All in all, this was a fantastical army.
"We are the guard, blown by the wind to Casterly Rock. We will kill old Tywin, then burn the lion's den.
"We are the guard. No king escapes our blades and spears. No enemy slips from our grasp.
"We have killed Pirate Kings and beheaded Bloodbeard.
"We have killed slavers and smashed the Black Horselord.
"We have killed toothless tigers and slaughtered golden Krakens.
"We are the guard, the raging Storm. The stars in the night are the stag's eyes, and the howling wind is their song..."
The guard knights in gold cloaks began to sing, and the song spread through the Stormlands knights and Vale knights until it swept across the whole army.
Garlan listened to the Song of the Gold Cloaks. Victorious in every battle, unstoppable in every assault, shattering countless crowns. The guard deserved such triumphal music.
Garlan saw the knights of The Reach singing along as well, each voice carrying the joy of a warrior's heart.
On the battlefield, King Gendry had already become a presence no one dared oppose.
At Highgarden, the Queen of Thorns, Olenna, was preparing to take her daughter-in-law, Lady Alerie, out to welcome the victorious army home.
"If only my son had been a little more capable, perhaps this old woman would not have to keep bending the knee to people of her grandchildren's generation."
"Mother..." Lady Alerie tried to stop her. "You must not grumble so much in front of the king."
"I know. As for you, what is done is done. I still do not understand how your father, such a shrewd and capable man back then, could become so obsessed with prophecy the moment he touched it. It was as if he had gone mad like Rhaegar Targaryen..." The Queen of Thorns took her daughter-in-law's hand and whispered, "Be strong."
Lady Alerie nodded. Noblewomen understood the workings of power, and she was already counted as one of House Tyrell.
"The Red Viper wrote me a letter. It concerns Willas."
"The Red Viper? Why would he write to you? How dare he?" Alerie was instantly angered.
"Of course it is about Willas's marriage. I have been planning for my eldest grandson for years, but after looking all around, the only suitable choice left now really does seem to be Arianne Martell. She is the Princess of Dorne."
The lions were already rotten beyond bearing, the eagles looked as though they were about to die out, and of the stag's house there remained only a little girl with greyscale. Looking at it that way...
"But I have heard that girl is somewhat wanton, and a little short. Her looks and figure are not bad, though... Are there not still Sansa Stark and Arya Stark? Arya is too young, but Sansa is just right. House Stark is an ancient royal line, and she seems like a rich, fertile, beautiful lady," Alerie suggested carefully.
"Now you are being picky."
"Stop thinking about that Sansa. The girl is always beside the king. She is still a pink young maiden, and Willas is not to her taste. Besides, Lady Catelyn would never agree... Let it be Arianne. Her Norvoshi mother was very fertile. If she had not separated from Doran, she might have had five or six children. That girl is no fool. Once she marries into Highgarden, she will learn to act like a rose."
"All right," Lady Alerie agreed reluctantly. "So I am going to have grandchildren with a Dornish flavor?"
"..." The Queen of Thorns glanced at her daughter-in-law. "If I do not mind, what are you objecting to? As for Mace, he will have no opinion."
"But my sweet girl is still at the king's side," Alerie said in a low voice. "Could she also..."
"I have my own plans for that. How far the Rose can go will depend on Margaery," the Queen of Thorns murmured to herself.
Originally, the Queen of Thorns had not intended to stake everything. She had still kept her own little calculations.
Margaery was a lady, and a beautiful lady carried enormous marriage value.
But judging from Garlan's letter, the strange, uncanny Battle of Oldtown had been far too steeped in magic.
Crow's Eye, who summoned wind and rain, called forth Krakens large and small, carried the Dragonhorn, and occupied souls, no longer seemed to fall within the realm of "human."
Then was Gendry, the victor who had beaten Crow's Eye down, not even more like a god? Casting stones into the sea, summoning flames, wielding a magic sword, and commanding Dragons unafraid of the Dragonhorn.
The blood of the "Storm," the power of gods. That was something worth currying favor with.
The High Tower was sinking, while the Rose still lived and flourished.
At the foot of Highgarden, the Dragons let out roars that frightened the servants and stablehands of Highgarden half out of their wits.
The Queen of Thorns, however, remained perfectly calm. After resting at Highgarden, the royalist army would continue north.
Escorted by five Kingsguards and two female guards, Gendry and Daenerys walked at the front of the procession toward the Queen of Thorns and Lady Alerie.
Beside Daenerys were her two companions, Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark. According to the etiquette of the Seven Kingdoms, a princess and a queen had to have female companions.
Since Willas had been left in Oldtown to manage affairs, Highgarden was now ruled by women.
For a moment, the Queen of Thorns was dazed when she saw Gendry. He reminded her of the Storm of Laughter, and of Robert Baratheon in his youth.
Now this young king, with his clean, handsome face and clear eyes, the kind of man young maidens dreamed of, was indeed as beloved as the Storm of Laughter.
Gendry stood six feet nine inches tall, towering like a great pillar, standing out from the crowd.
The Queen of Thorns knew that the king did not merely look like a giant. He had a giant's strength as well.
The others dismounted one after another, and stablehands from the castle came to tend the horses.
"Your Grace, Highgarden awaits your command," the Queen of Thorns said, bending the knee.
The Queen of Thorns then kissed Daenerys's queenly ring.
Gendry immediately helped the Queen of Thorns rise. "You are one of the elders of the Seven Kingdoms, a treasure in your own right."
The Queen of Thorns was in her seventies, and had lived through several generations of kings. She was an old hand at politics.
The Queen of Thorns looked at the king once more, then said with some unease, "Thank you for Your Grace's generosity, allowing these old bones of mine to hear the roar of Dragons again."
The Queen of Thorns then introduced her daughter-in-law, Lady Alerie, and her second grandson's wife, Leonette Fossoway, a pretty woman with bright eyes.
In truth, they all knew one another already, but this was etiquette.
"You truly do have a sharp tongue," Gendry said with a laugh, then pointed to the sinners' Longspears set outside Highgarden. "I brought a fine gift. Ironborn heads."
"Crow's Eye's?" The Queen of Thorns looked at the rows of heads. No wonder people said Gendry was a demon on the battlefield, the star of the Warrior and the Smith.
The Sphinxes, stone beast, and Kraken skeletons were also displayed outside the castle.
"Yes."
"How kind of you to explain it to an old hen like me."
"Grandmother..." Margaery ran over as well.
Amid laughter and cheerful voices, everyone entered Highgarden.
"I met your grandfather, Great Lord Steffon, many times. He was a good man, only his fate was too poor," the Queen of Thorns said.
Gendry nodded.
Perhaps Great Lord Steffon truly had only been a good man, without much outstanding talent or much skill at protecting himself. Otherwise, with his status, he could have chosen any high office in King's Landing he pleased.
"When your grandfather was young, he served as a cupbearer in King's Landing alongside Aerys and Tywin, who were of a similar age. They were very close, and fought side by side in the War of the Ninepenny Kings... Later, many people said Steffon's matter completely broke Aerys."
Daenerys listened from the side. She had heard these stories many times, and each time they stirred a different feeling.
The past was like smoke and clouds, yet people found it hard to pull themselves free. They were beasts ruled by power.
...
The hall of Highgarden steamed with warmth, filled with the scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread.
The white marble walls of the hall were hung with the banners of various houses. Gold was Gendry's quartered banner, black was Queen Daenerys's three-headed Dragon, white was House Stark's Direwolf of the frozen plains, green was Highgarden's golden rose on a green field, and there was also House Martell's sun-piercing spear.
The strangest among them was the Martell banner. The vassals all knew it had not been seen for some years.
On an orange field was a red sun, pierced through by a spear.
"Hahaha!"
The hall rang with laughter, and wine and music followed.
"Godsgrief" praised Durran, who defied the gods. "The Conqueror and His Brother" sang of the Conqueror and his rumored bastard brother, the first Hand of the King, Orys Baratheon, and of the unbreakable bond between men.
"The Guard's War Song" and "Follow the Storm Closely" flattered King Gendry, while "The Golden Rose" praised House Tyrell.
Tall and imposing, Gendry sat upon the dais, the demon of the Oldtown battlefield, the bravest and most battle-hardened knight in the known world.
Daenerys's headdress, set with amethysts, matched the color of her hair and eyes. The queen was every bit as beautiful as rumor claimed.
Sansa and Margaery were lovely as well, but beside her, they had no choice but to soften their own colors.
Gendry, changed into a black robe with gold patterns and a golden cloak, was unmatched. He was like a bright, sharp sword. A quartered badge rested on the front of his tunic, and the king's smile harvested women's hearts like a blade.
The feast began with pears boiled in strong wine, followed by delicious small fish fried crisp in rolling salt, and roosters stuffed with onions and mushrooms.
The food was exceptionally complete. After all, this was a feast to receive the king. But no one's mind was truly on the meal.
Everyone knew that after the feast, they would go north to deal with Tywin, the lion the king hated most. Yet seeing the Red Viper and the Queen of Thorns talking and laughing together still felt like watching the sun rise in the west.
"Under the witness of the Old Gods and the New, and beneath the glory of the king and queen, House Tyrell and House Martell have a joyous matter to announce," the Red Viper and the Queen of Thorns said after rising to salute the king.
All the lords of The Reach and Dorne, the knights, and the servants fell silent. Even the music stopped.
A joyous matter. Could it truly be that Willas Tyrell and Arianne Martell were being put together?
There were not many possibilities to choose from, and once everyone thought about it, they guessed the answer.
Garlan was already married. Loras was determined to become a white knight. Margaery, everyone guessed, had been moving closer and closer to King Gendry, and the value of Dragonlord blood stood above ordinary royal blood.
So it could only be Willas, the heir to Highgarden. Neither Willas nor Arianne was young anymore.
Gendry and Daenerys drank their lemon water. The Red Viper had already explained the matter to him beforehand. This was fine too, a lame man paired with a wanton woman.
Arianne was not within Gendry's range of taste either.
More importantly, the two seemed to have once been drawn to each other. Arianne had even fantasized about eloping to join Willas, which made the matter rather hard to judge.
"My brother, Prince Doran, has an unmarried daughter, Arianne Martell, the jewel of our house. She admires Ser Willas Tyrell's wisdom and courage, and has fallen in love with him. I humbly ask Your Grace to approve this marriage, joining two great houses and creating a new peace together."
The Red Viper skipped over certain details. Arianne had long been rich in feeling, and there was no need to elaborate too much.
Willas was also lame. In a marriage alliance, there was no need to mind too much, so long as they could have children.
A girl from a Great Lord's house like Arianne was truly rare at present.
Both sides had flaws, and bringing them together was reasonable enough.
The Queen of Thorns added, "This is the glory of the Rose. At today's feast, we hope to receive the blessing of Your Grace and the queen."
"This is a good thing for the Seven Kingdoms. Approved!"
Noisy cheers filled the hall.
"The spear and the rose!"
"The spear and the rose!"
Gendry looked over everything in the hall, the joy and the praise.
For Doran and the Red Viper, letting go of their obsession was the best choice.
To take one step back, and choose peace.