The Red Viper arrived swiftly and left just as quickly. His status was special, and this visit to the Fire Herb Manor had been a discreet one. Their agreement remained entirely verbal—maintain goodwill and maintain trade.
During his stay, the Red Viper sparred with Gendry many times. Crossing blades with one of the finest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms pushed Gendry to improve at a far faster pace.
"He's treating me like a cheap version of the Mountain!"
The Red Viper always chose a longspear when facing Gendry, and Gendry understood why. In his mind, the Red Viper's true opponent was Tywin's mad dog, the Mountain—an eight-foot wall of flesh. Against that kind of brute force, a longspear was more agile and far safer than a greatsword.
What a complicated man.
The Red Viper was a figure of endless rumor in Westeros. Stories about his tourneys, his wars, his duels, his mounts, even his appetites, were everywhere. It was said he bedded both men and women, and that bastard daughters of his could be found all across Dorne. Those girls were known as the Sand Snakes.
"What do you think of the Red Viper?" Gendry asked Maester Qyburn.
"In terms of ability, he's exceptional. Unfortunately, Dorne's plate is too small, and it has never quite fit with the new dynasty," Qyburn replied.
Dorne's climate was harsh, and its population was among the smallest in the Seven Kingdoms. In wealth and manpower, the Reach and the Westerlands ranked first. Unfortunately for Dorne, both were enemies. After them came the Vale and the Riverlands, then the Stormlands, the North, and finally Dorne.
"Small in strength yet ambitious in design. Those two brothers have it hard," Gendry said thoughtfully. "When Dorne sent troops to support the Mad King, they were crushed. It was a devastating loss."
The Dornish stood alone, with few friends. If they stubbornly tried to use the smallest force in the realm to charge headlong into an alliance of Fish, Wolf, Lion, Falcon, and Stag, it would be little different from suicide. No wonder Doran and the Red Viper planned so carefully.
"You don't know the full story of those years, Prince," Qyburn said after a moment's thought. "During the War of the Usurper, Dorne hesitated as well. Their strength was limited. But the Mad King took Princess Elia, Prince Lewyn's niece, as a hostage and ordered him to lead more than ten thousand Dornish warriors to join Prince Rhaegar's army. Prince Lewyn died in that war. The Dornish swallowed their anger. They bled for House Targaryen."
"Pitiful," Gendry murmured.
He thought of that war—the Silver Prince's misguided love, and the funeral bells that rang for so many across the Seven Kingdoms. House Martell had suffered for the madness of father and son alike.
Injustice and ambition were the roots of war.
Westeros was fractured by resentment. Many lords believed they had been wronged. The grievances of the two stags and the third. The grievances of House Tyrell. The grievances of House Martell. And behind it all lurked vermin like the Spider and Littlefinger, stirring the waters.
He needed to gather strength, not rush blindly into the chaos.
"I see Doran and the Red Viper as two sides of the same coin," Gendry said. "There are endless rumors about the Red Viper. On the surface he's fiery and impulsive, but in the end he still submits to Doran's caution."
"He must be exhausted," Gendry added quietly.
For a man so proud and unyielding, forced by Dorne's weakness and his brother's command to delay his vengeance day after day—that alone was torment.
Doran's plans might be far-reaching, but Dorne's innate weaknesses meant most of them ultimately fell apart. Each of his pieces had their own ambitions. And Dorne itself was a land of harsh terrain and poor resources, further weakened by the War of the Usurper.
"That's why the Red Viper sought us out—to break the stalemate," Qyburn said. "He's been suppressing his anger year after year. The Dornish need an army. In Westeros, they have few friends. Across the Narrow Sea, the Three Daughters are merchants. They lack both the troops and the courage to interfere."
"We'll make the most of this opportunity. The Red Viper's goodwill cuts both ways," Gendry said after a pause. "Let's see how much help he can truly offer. Dornish horses, spices, spearmen—I want all of it. Most of all, the horses. Dornish horses have incredible endurance. They're perfect for light cavalry charges."
The terrain of the Disputed Lands was open and even, the climate favorable—ideal ground for cavalry to run wild.
"Dornish horses are indeed renowned," Qyburn said. "But from Prince Oberyn's manner, I'd say he'll be cautious. He won't sell to us in large numbers. Dorne maintains good relations with the Three Daughters. Many of the Magisters' children spend their days playing in the Water Gardens."
"They've grown used to being cautious," Gendry said.
"But if the Red Viper were to guess your identity, Prince…" Qyburn hesitated. In truth, the two sides had once been mortal enemies.
"The situation isn't fixed," Gendry replied calmly. "Even if we were willing, House Martell wouldn't dare openly rebel now. This is only cooperation. And if that day ever comes, it will be about alliances or negotiation. I doubt the Red Viper is eager to make new enemies for House Martell."
Dorne's greatest hatred was reserved for House Lannister. That gave Gendry room to maneuver. And with the Doran brothers' patience, unless the tides truly shifted, they would endure for as long as they had to.
"Very well. This isn't the time for us to interfere in Westeros."
"Our focus remains the Disputed Lands and the Stepstones."
"We need to push outward, make a name for the Wolf Pack, and force Oberyn—and the oppressed slaves—to reassess our value."
Gendry's eyes gleamed. The stronger the Wolf Pack and the Free Company proved themselves in battle, the more backing and investment they would attract.
"Spread the word. We're joining forces with the Company of the Cat to sack Myr," Gendry said. "Have the Free Company make a few more appearances along the borderlands. Give those Myr slave masters a proper scare."
"Our real objective is the Stepstones?" Qyburn immediately caught his meaning. A feint on the surface, but the true move would land elsewhere.
Myr was already on edge. In terms of military strength, its navy was decent enough, but its land forces had always relied on Free Companies and adventurers—never particularly strong. The Wolf Pack's offensive had come down like thunder. The Myrish considered hiring the Golden Company, but for a war on this scale, the price they demanded would be astronomical. And the Golden Company would only agree to defend, not launch an offensive. Sellswords knew how to preserve their own strength.
"Yes. Now that we have access to the sea, we need to take one or two island chains in the Stepstones and link them together," Gendry said.
In his mind, the ideal territory was the Disputed Lands combined with the Stepstones, taken piece by piece. At present, his small kingdom consisted of half a corner of the Disputed Lands and a string of connected manors. If he could bring the Stepstones into the fold, even partially, it would transform his position. It was an ambitious vision. For now, seizing a few smaller islands would be enough.
"Several ships crewed by escaped slaves have come to join us. We don't need to rely on the old pirates anymore. We can take a few islands on our own."
As their power expanded, the relationship between the Wolf Pack and the old pirates had grown increasingly delicate. The old pirates had sensed the Wolf Pack's rise, but they hadn't expected it to happen this quickly.
More than anything, Gendry had chosen a path that was ruthless and bold. In all the years before, no force had ever directly challenged one of the pillars of global trade: slavery itself.