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"Your Grace, the houses of the Reach that betrayed their liege, aside from House Hightower of Oldtown, are House Peake of Starpike, House Merryweather of Longtable, House Ashford of Ashford, House Meadows of Grassy Vale, House Fossoway of Cider Hall, and House Caswell of Bitterbridge.
"Leaving House Hightower aside for the moment, the positions of the other houses are mostly close to the crownlands and the Dornish Marches."
In Highgarden's former throne room, now used as a council hall, Lord Randyll pointed to the finely painted great map on the long table and explained the situation in the Reach after the war for Highgarden.
"Because Your Grace came to our aid in a way no one expected, Tywin Lannister's purpose in occupying Highgarden has failed. Yet he has successfully built a defensive line within the Reach.
"Please look. Every important castle east of the Mander is now linked into a single chain. Though they lost part of their strength, they can at least use the castles to hold us for some time.
"According to Prince Oberyn's intelligence, House Lannister suffered almost no losses in the war for Highgarden.
"Moreover, the horses and weapons of the twenty thousand riders and ten thousand foot Ser Willas previously commanded were mostly taken by the enemy in advance under the pretext of making their choice last among Highgarden's spoils.
"In other words, in the short term, they can equip nearly twenty thousand light cavalry. We all understand that in the open, flat lands of the Reach, the threat posed by their mobility cannot be underestimated.
"Therefore, when we attack the castles east of the Mander, they will certainly respond in some way."
"Good. Lord Randyll's analysis is thorough. I presume you already have a tactical plan for punishing the rebellious houses?"
Robb, who appreciated how Randyll had laid out Tywin's position in only a few sentences, played along and asked.
"Your Grace, Highgarden currently has thirty thousand cavalry and ten thousand foot. Add the fifteen thousand men you command personally, the ten thousand men of House Greyjoy, and the ten thousand of House Redwyne, and we have seventy-five thousand men in total.
"We can first send the Iron Fleet and the Redwyne fleet to Blackwater Bay in great force and blockade King's Landing's outlet to the sea, forcing House Lannister to withdraw troops to defend the capital.
"Then we gather the remaining fifty thousand men and crush the rebellious Reach houses as quickly as possible."
Lord Randyll nodded to Robb and spoke his envisioned plan aloud.
"Lord Randyll, even I can see the flaw in your plan. If I were Tywin, I would hold King's Landing and ignore whether Blackwater Bay is blockaded.
"After all, two fleets alone cannot take King's Landing."
Lord Mace, who had always liked finding fault with Lord Randyll, was the first to stand and point out the weakness in the plan.
Seeing her son behave this way, Olenna, who had been listening carefully, covered her face with one hand, turned away, and sighed heavily.
"If Tywin does not withdraw to defend King's Landing, then the fifty thousand men here become a great net, trapping the Lannister army in the Reach.
"My northern cavalry left in the Westerlands can advance from the Goldroad, and House Tully's riverlander army can advance from the kingsroad. Then King's Landing will be struck from three sides.
"This is an open strategy built on superior numbers.
"Either he abandons the defensive line in the Reach, or he loses King's Landing. Tywin has no choice."
Seeing that Lord Randyll did not answer Mace, Robb knew the man wanted to test his strategic vision, so he completed the plan Randyll had left unsaid.
"Your Grace is wise."
Lord Randyll, who had spent years constrained beneath Lord Mace, showed a rare smile as he looked at Robb and offered sincere praise.
"I had thought of that too. His Grace merely said it first."
Under his mother's fixed gaze, Lord Mace muttered and slowly sat down.
The other nobles present began praising both Lord Randyll's fine plan and Robb's sharp judgment.
Margaery sat beside Robb, her complexion rosy and healthy. Her recent nights with Robb had clearly suited her. She looked more charming and alluring by the day.
After her first two unusual royal husbands, Margaery, whose heart was set on becoming queen, felt that Robb was nearly the perfect choice.
Now, hearing everyone, Lord Randyll included, praise Robb, desire flickered in her eyes. She could not resist stretching a hand toward him beneath the table.
'Oh? She knows how to play like this?'
Feeling Margaery's mischievous hand beneath the table, Robb laughed inwardly while keeping his expression unchanged.
He coughed lightly and said to Randyll, "Lord Randyll, the precondition for carrying out this plan is that Highgarden recovers its normal order.
"At present, Highgarden holds nearly thirty thousand prisoners alone. In addition, we must maintain order among the large number of laborers repairing the castle.
"It is impossible to send out every army now stationed at Highgarden."
"Yes, Your Grace. That is why our most important task now is to deal with the trouble left by the war for Highgarden. Afterward, with our overwhelming numerical advantage, we can slowly eat away at Lannister-controlled territory.
"However, in my eyes, the moment Highgarden's war ended in victory, Your Grace had all but won the Seven Kingdoms. Sitting the Iron Throne is now only a matter of time."
After admitting the problem Robb had raised, Lord Randyll stated his view.
'No, do not say that. Do not curse me with victory before it is won.'
Hearing Randyll, Robb immediately thought of someone from his previous life who had been infamous for declaring victory too soon.
But Randyll's words clearly resonated with everyone present. Even Olenna, who usually kept her thoughts deep, nodded in agreement.
Feeling the hand beneath the table grow more reckless, Robb straightened and pressed his hand down lightly to quiet the council hall.
"We may hold the advantage in strategy, but we cannot take the enemy lightly in the field.
"Since our next plan is indeed an open strategy Tywin cannot avoid, he may already have considered it.
"Therefore, we cannot slacken in the slightest. We must handle Highgarden's problems as soon as possible, then begin carrying out the next plan."
"Yes, Your Grace."
All the nobles present sat properly and answered together.
"Your Grace, the date of your wedding to Margaery..."
Seeing that the day's council had reached its end, Olenna asked at the right moment.
"The wedding? There is no need to rush it. Let us wait until I sit the Iron Throne.
"At this time, my mother and my brothers and sisters cannot leave Winterfell and come to Highgarden."
As soon as Robb finished, the council hall suddenly fell silent. At the same time, the hand beneath the table that had been teasing him also stiffened.
Robb immediately understood that what he had said was somewhat inappropriate. After a brief pause, he continued.
"Of course, no one can change the union of House Stark and House Tyrell. I ask the gods above to bear witness to that.
"The future wedding must be held in the Red Keep.
"Because I do not wish to slight Margaery. I must see her crowned, openly and properly, as the only queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
After Robb finished, the atmosphere in the council hall warmed again. The members of House Tyrell, in particular, all showed satisfied smiles.
Robb turned his head and saw Margaery flushed like a rose, her eyes bright with desire.
"Then today's council ends here."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Seeing Margaery like this, and having been teased by her hand for so long, desire stirred in Robb as well. He dismissed the nobles and left with Margaery for her chambers.
Olenna watched the noble, handsome young king and the beautiful young woman leave together. A knowing smile touched her mouth.
In the Riverlands, at the Brotherhood Without Banners' camp, Beric had felt somewhat empty after completing Gregor's judgment the night before. He had spent the entire morning sitting blankly on a great stone from which the village could be seen.
Sudden footsteps sounded behind him. Thoros, face dark, walked quickly toward him.
"Beric, the Hound and Brienne took those three children and disappeared. They have been somewhat apart from us lately, but I did not pay much attention.
"At noon today, when I did not see them at the meal, I found it strange. Only then did I realize they were gone."
As soon as Thoros reached him, he spoke in a rush.
"If they wished to leave, let them leave."
Beric did not even turn his head. His tone was calm.
"But they know where our camp is. If they reveal it, the peaceful life here will be destroyed."
Hearing Beric's lack of concern, Thoros pointed toward the village ahead.
"Leaving aside whether they will reveal it, destroyed by whom? The Mountain has been offered to my lord, and the Lannisters have been driven completely out of the Riverlands."
"Uh..."
Thoros, who had grown used to hiding for so long, was left speechless by Beric's question.
Yes. In a sense, the goal they had struggled for in the Riverlands had already been achieved. They no longer needed to hide.
After realizing this, he slowly walked to the great stone where Beric sat, pulled the stopper from his wineskin, took a long drink, and said, "Heh. If you had not said it, I almost would have forgotten. It seems we no longer have enemies."
"Last night, when the Mountain cursed my kin, I suddenly realized I had forgotten many important people and things.
"After judging him, I suddenly felt that everything afterward had lost its meaning."
Beric did not follow Thoros's words. He only spoke softly to himself.
"No. Before, in the flames, I saw the battle at Harrenhal. After that battle, the Brotherhood grew as never before.
"Last night, I saw us frozen in ice.
"None of this can be meaningless. The Lord of Light must have a special arrangement for us.
"Otherwise, among the countless people in Westeros and Essos, why would he choose only you to resurrect?"
Hearing Beric's dispirited words, Thoros shook his head and denied them. His voice was certain.
"My lord?"
Light returned to Beric's eyes. After judging the Mountain, the meaning of his existence seemed to have become service to the Lord of Light alone.
"Lord Beric, Lord Thoros. The brothers at the valley entrance sent word. Someone asks to see you."
While Beric and Thoros were speaking, a Brotherhood member hurried up and reported.
"Hm? Has the location of the camp leaked so quickly? Come. Let us look."
Thoros grabbed Beric, who was unusually subdued today, and pulled him toward the valley entrance.
"The night is dark and full of terrors."
When Beric and Thoros reached the valley entrance, a bald, one-armed red priest stood calmly among the surrounding Brotherhood men, smiling faintly.
As soon as he saw Beric and Thoros, he made the gesture of prayer and spoke the familiar words.
"The night is dark and full of terrors."
Everyone at the valley entrance answered together.
"My name is Moqorro. I come from the temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis. By command of High Priest Benerro, I have come to Westeros to investigate traces of the Cold God's servant."
"My name is Thoros, and this is Beric. Then may I ask why you have come today?"
Thoros could tell at a glance that Moqorro was not lying. Every movement of his carried the solemn bearing of the temple.
"This matter is very important. May we discuss it elsewhere?"
Moqorro looked around and smiled as he asked.
"Let him in. We will speak after we return."
Beric, who had remained silent, suddenly ordered the Brotherhood guards. Then he turned and walked back toward the camp.
"In that case, Brother Moqorro, come with us."
Since Beric had spoken, Thoros answered Moqorro and followed Beric.
The three walked back to Beric's room in silence. At this time of day, most Brotherhood members gathered in prayer together, so almost no one would disturb them.
"Brother Thoros, it seems you have made great efforts to spread my lord's faith."
Along the way, Moqorro had seen many Brotherhood members praying in groups. As soon as they entered the room, he spoke happily to Thoros.
"No. This is the result of our work together."
Thoros pointed to Beric as he answered, then brought the topic back.
"Brother Moqorro, let us speak of the important matter first."
"I have already found the Cold God's servant. He not only possesses a terrible ice power, but also commands a vast force.
"I ambushed him once before and lost my arm. I came today to seek your help."
Moqorro stated his purpose plainly.
"How did you find us? Did someone tell you?"
As soon as Moqorro finished, Beric cut in.
"No. Perhaps because I have always been deeply favored by my lord, the revelations he grants me are rather precise. I saw your position clearly in the flames."
Hearing Beric's question, Moqorro shook his head and answered with a hint of pride.
"Brother Moqorro truly is a believer favored by the Lord of Light. Perhaps only a little less favored than Beric."
Seeing Moqorro's pride, Thoros drank from his wineskin, glanced at Beric, and spoke.
"Oh? Brother Beric's prophecies are even more precise?"
Moqorro's curiosity was immediately aroused. In Essos, no one had stronger prophetic ability than him.
Thoros smiled and shook his head. His tone was casual. "No. He cannot prophesy through flames. He has only been resurrected by the Lord of Light four or five times."
"Resurrected!"
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