Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 252 War - Discussion

The Eyrie's Great Hall was particularly solemn at night, the cold stone walls cast shadowy reflections by the flickering candlelight.

Apart from Prince Doran, who was far away in Dorne, the core figures of the resistance—Jon Arryn, Hoster Tully, Eddard Stark, Euron Greyjoy, and Robert Baratheon—sat around a heavy oak table, with maps and wine glasses scattered around, the air thick with the solemnity of the eve of war.

Euron Greyjoy's gaze swept over every lord present, breaking the silence. His voice was steady yet carried an undeniable weight: "A snake cannot function without a head, nor can an army function without a commander. Before formally declaring war on the Iron Throne, we first need a common leader, a supreme commander capable of leading the allied forces."

Upon hearing this, Jon Arryn and Lord Hoster Tully exchanged a glance, both seeing the same suspicion and wariness in each other's eyes. Jon's fingers unconsciously traced the rim of his wine glass as he thought to himself: Bringing this up at this crucial juncture—could this "Son of the Drowned God," known for his ambition and cunning, be trying to seize the position of commander-in-chief for himself?

Euron seemed to read their minds, a half-smile playing on his lips as he deliberately dispelled the momentary suspicion: "Don't overthink it. I don't intend to sit in this position." He leaned forward slightly, the candlelight flickering in his eyes. "Why don't you all consider what the true source of this war is?"

Jon Arryn answered in a deep voice, his tone tinged with suppressed anger: "It was Rhaegar. He kidnapped Lyanna Stark."

"Indeed!" Euron's voice suddenly rose, like a heavy hammer striking everyone's heart. "It was because Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna that Brandon went to King's Landing alone to demand an explanation, which triggered a series of tragedies that ultimately led to the deaths of our Duke Rickard and Brandon, forcing us all to this point."

He paused for a moment, then turned from the light, which seemed almost tangible, toward the Duke of the Storm, who had been silent but was now like a volcano about to erupt.

"And Lyanna Stark is the fiancée of Lord Robert Baratheon."

After he finished speaking, the hall fell into a brief silence.

All eyes—with a mixture of realization, scrutiny, and final certainty—were fixed on the stag lord at the table, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with boundless rage and grief. Robert felt the heavy light emanating from him; he looked up, his clenched fist slamming heavily on the table, making his wine glass vibrate.

Euron's fingertips lightly tapped the table before his gaze finally settled on Robert, his voice carrying an undeniable certainty: "Therefore, Robert Baratheon, by reason and in principle, you are the rightful leader of this rebellion. Only your banner can become the core that gathers the wrath of the Seven Kingdoms."

Robert jerked his head up, his eyes burning with anger and grief, as if finding an outlet. He slammed his fist on the table, shaking the map scroll: "That's right! Lyanna is my fiancée, and the blood debts of the Stark family are inextricably linked to me!"

Both publicly and privately, this battle should have been spearheaded by me! It is my duty!

As the eldest and most respected lord, Jon Arryn surveyed the crowd. Seeing no one object, he calmly nodded, making the final decision: "Very well! It's decided then. Robert will be our commander." He then shifted the focus to a more practical matter, "So now, let's discuss how to fight this battle."

However, Robert, consumed by rage and a sense of leadership responsibility, hesitated almost without a second thought. His massive frame leaned forward in agitation, his voice like thunder in a storm: "What else is there to talk about?! Gather all our armies, form a united force, and march straight east, with the force of thunder, toward King's Landing! I will personally smash Aerys's head with my warhammer!"

His proposal was simple and direct, full of the courage and determination unique to the Stormland Stags, but it also made the other lords present fall into deep thought: was taking King's Landing really a foolproof plan?

Euron Greyjoy leaned back lazily in his chair, his fingertips tapping the table unconsciously. He let out a soft, almost mocking snort: "If it were a battle at sea, I swear by the name of the Drowning God, no matter how many fleets come, I'll sink them all. If King's Landing were to attack the Eyrie, Lord Jon Snow could certainly guarantee they wouldn't return. But now—" He changed the subject, his sharp gaze sweeping over each of the lords present, "We're talking about how to take King's Landing. First and foremost, we must find out exactly how many troops the Mad King commands, who's on his side, and who we're facing."

Jon Arryn nodded approvingly, the Vale Warden's face grave as he recounted the intelligence he had gathered over the past few days:

When news of the Starks, Tullys, and Arryns' marriage alliance and their rebellion spread like wildfire to King's Landing, a sense of impending doom gripped the Red Keep.

Deeply consumed by suspicion and delusion, Aerys II, in his rage, surprisingly displayed a touch of paranoid decisiveness, swiftly summoning all his direct vassals. The response was unexpectedly unanimous; these traditional Targaryen vassals, under the king's crazed gaze, without exception swore allegiance, vowing to fight for the Iron Throne. This news greatly surprised Robert; he hadn't expected anyone to support that madman of the Iron Throne.

Meanwhile, the Tyrell family of Highgarden in the South, along with their powerful vassals—the Redwynn family with its formidable navy and the ancient and wealthy Hightower family—quickly pledged their allegiance. The Golden Roses chose to pledge allegiance to the Iron Throne, their oath clinging like summer vines to the increasingly decaying tree of Targaryen, providing King's Landing with crucial provisions and manpower.

What is truly unsettling is the continued silence in the Westerlands. Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, the Golden Lion who reigns supreme in the West, has yet to make any public statement regarding this earth-shattering upheaval. No one can fathom the depths of Tywin's thoughts. Despite his deep-seated grudge against the Mad King, and the indelible humiliation inflicted upon him by Aerys, who can say for sure that he won't forge some kind of deal with the Iron Throne?

"Perhaps, let his heir Jaime take off the white robes of the Kingsguard and return to Casterly Rock?"

"Perhaps, we could have Prince Rhaegar divorce his wife and marry his daughter Cersei?"

"Perhaps, reinstate him to his former position as Hand of the King?"

Jon Snow said in a deep voice, "Any one of these tempting offers would be enough to make the cunning Tywin change his mind and turn his power towards King's Landing." He looked at Robert, "Robert, realistically speaking, our current forces are not superior to the Mad King's. Siege warfare is different from open field battles or naval engagements; you need three times the enemy's strength to have a chance of winning. Do we—have that?"

Jon Arryn's voice was deep and clear, his gaze toward Robert carrying an undeniable gravity: "Robert, even in your Stormlands, not all vassals are willing to follow the stag's banner. Yesterday, we received definitive news that House Grandson of Allvision, House Cavallon of Youngdeep, and House Fell of Fallenwood—" He paused, allowing the names and the weight they represented to sink into everyone's hearts: "They have all openly declared their allegiance to the Mad King Aerys II."

Jon paused, his tone growing increasingly somber: "The Vale under my rule is not a monolithic entity. The people of Seagull Town have openly declared themselves the true masters of the Vale and pledged their support for the Mad King."

These words were like ice water, extinguishing some of the burning fighting spirit.

The defection of these families means that Robert will face threats from the rear and internal strife in his own territory. Before the forces of Stormlands have even made their move, they have already suffered losses.