The convoy from Dorne traveled for weeks without major stops. Lady Ashara took special care of Princess Elia, considering her fragile predicament now that her marriage had been effectively canceled. To protect Elia's dignity and health, Ashara single-handedly declined a considerable number of invitations from the nobility of the Reach as they passed through their lands.
"Look at our young Lord Tully, sleeping without a care atop his horse while making us maidens face the wrath of the world," Lady Ashara joked, glancing at the dozing Edmure. "I hope you will prove a better host than the lousy companion you've been so far. As compensation, you should offer me another painting."
"Sure," Edmure replied, blinking awake. "But why am I being extorted for your charms? Clearly, it is all of you who are making the boys besotted. What am I supposed to do? This is not my land. If this were the Trident, I could beat them all into obedience."
"Braggart!" Ashara muttered. Her impression of the boy had recovered slightly after receiving his last painting; Edmure had even painted one of Ser Arthur's, secretly hoping the Sword of the Morning might go easy on his Whent cousins during the upcoming tourney.
"How about I attend your sister's wedding?" Princess Elia suggested, voicing the plan she had discussed with Prince Doran in Sunspear. "I heard there are plenty of nobles coming to Riverrun, and perhaps I can make it to the tourney afterward?"
"It would be our honor to host you, Princess," Edmure said formally. "Uncle, once we enter the realm, guard her with your life. I will be riding ahead, meeting with patrols. I'll be only a few hours' ride from you at all times, but don't get careless. The Tullys cannot afford a fumble of this scale."
Brynden simply nodded. This would be his last assignment of a disastrous southern trip; the rest would be handled by his brother and his damned conscience.
The others couldn't quite fathom why Edmure placed such importance on Elia, assuming it was merely high courtly courtesy. Lord Dayne, however, was more interested in the patrols Edmure mentioned. Rumors had reached them that the Tullys had significantly increased their military activity, but he couldn't bring himself to ask Brynden directly. Ever since his recent sparring victory, the Blackfish hadn't wiped the grin off his face.
"Edmure, what is your family doing? Why be so brazen when a tourney is about to be held?" Ashara asked, noticing her brother's curiosity.
"Father wishes to show his prestige," Edmure explained. "A lot of matters have aligned: my sister's marriage, my minor contention with the West, the upcoming tourney, and the Iron Throne's attempt to censor us. If Father doesn't show his fangs, the Tullys stand to lose the paramountcy over their vassals. Plus, my actions as heir caused friction in the eastern part of our realm. If we don't double down, we'll be seen as weak."
Lord Dayne nodded outwardly, but the seasoned lord knew there was a deeper story beneath the surface. Still, the Trident was not his land, so he felt no need to pry further.
"Why are you causing trouble everywhere?" Ashara pressed. "You call beating Lord Tywin a minor contention? My brother wrote to us, saying he had met a chaos demon in training."
"Nobles do stupid things all the time," Edmure shrugged. "But my actions in the eastern Trident were justified. I was patrolling and punishing bandits—well within my purview as heir to the Lord Protector. They are just dissatisfied that their own sons can't be as good as me."
"Yes. Sure. Whatever." Princess Elia mocked. She had grown used to the boy letting himself go the moment he found an audience.
Two days later, the group finally crossed into the Riverlands. The presence of the patrols was truly impressive, catching everyone off guard. Every two hours, they encountered a different company. Teams of a dozen riders, often with mediocre equipment and training, would tail them for a short while before peeling off.
"The old fool is throwing away our entire treasury," Edmure cursed Hoster while inspecting the latest patrol. The team consisted of two veterans and the rest greens. Edmure didn't care about their combat effectiveness yet, provided their discipline and logistics were up to his standards—but this display was clearly testing even his patience.
"Mi'lord, the convoy from the North is arriving soon," the nervous leader of the patrol stammered. He was from one of Edmure's original teams and had seen firsthand how ruthless the heir could be when displeased. "Lord Tully thought of gathering all the experienced men to Riverrun to give them a fitting welcome. He asked for your presence. It will take another week."
Edmure broke into a wide, predatory grin. "Ha! My dear father sometimes makes the correct decision. Of course, we should welcome them properly. We must show those barbarians how things are done in the south. Fret not; take my reply. I'll be there early. We cannot be shabby for such a family event. We should drill a thousand knights for a charge... aimed squarely at the groom's host. Perhaps a mock skirmish or two? I'm sure the Starks can understand such jokes!"
Edmure's plan made his men chuckle, agreeing it was the most proper welcome for in-laws.
"Brother, I tell you now—if you ever dare to imitate this monkey, I'll elope," Ashara chided the smiling Lord Dayne.
"Sister, how could you say that? You sisters are our precious treasures," Lord Dayne replied. "I won't muster the bannermen... but can I at least wield Dawn? It's a common joke among us men. It sends a proper signal to the in-laws."
"To show them that the bride's family is unhinged? Not a chance," Ashara snapped. "And you, Tully boy, should leave with the patrols. Don't sour the mood here any further."
Edmure's standing in Ashara's eyes hit a new low as he rode off with the patrol. For the next few days, he kept riding without a break. Watching him go, Lord Dayne turned to the group.
"Sister, how about we escort Elia all the way to Riverrun? I'm worried about her safety. What do you say, Blackfish? Does your brother allow you to bring friends back home?"
"Wipe that grin off your face, Ulrick," Brynden grunted. "I know you just want to see the Starks getting humiliated. Do whatever you want. At least the castle will offer better company to the ladies. I heard Robert Baratheon and Brandon Stark will be there."
As the convoy turned toward Riverrun, Lord Dayne gazed toward the horizon. He could feel they were constantly surrounded by patrols. The riders were sub-par warriors, but their discipline and coordination were sharp. Give them a year, and they would be a formidable mounted men at arms. A veritable second rate cavalry! He wondered if the Tullys intended to keep them in the field for that long. If they did, Westeros would be at war in few years.