Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 285 Siege of Windbreak Fortress

The next day, when Tetsu Nestorus was led back to the hall, the atmosphere was completely different from the day before.

Robert Baratheon sat imposingly in the main seat, offering no pleasantries, and immediately revealed his trump card. His voice boomed like a pre-battle declaration: "Messenger, listen! Either I won't lend it, or I will lend you five million gold dragons! Not a single penny less!" He rose from his seat, his massive frame exuding an undeniable aura of dominance. "If you don't lend it, once I take King's Landing, you won't get a single bronze star from me for all the mess the Mad King has left behind!"

This was blatant exorbitant demand and a prelude to defaulting on the debt. Techo Nestos's face immediately turned extremely ugly.

Just then, Euron Greyjoy, like a partner in the shadows, spoke up at the opportune moment, his voice calm yet deadly: "Lord Tychu, you are a wise man. Please think carefully. If this deal falls through, all the time and expectations you've invested will be lost, and your future is predictable—you will lose everything you have now. But if you lend it out, even if the amount is huge, at least—this investment still has a future." His unspoken message was clear: if they didn't lend, the Iron Bank would completely lose its future in Westeros; if they did, there was still a glimmer of hope.

Euron paused, as if making a huge concession, and held up three fingers: "How about this, three million gold dragons. This is our bottom line, and the number that can completely tip the scales of war. Any less, and it would be meaningless for this war, and we have no reason to borrow from you with interest."

Tetsu Nestorth fell into a long silence, his slender fingers unconsciously stroking the golden key at his breastplate. His shrewd mind raced, calculating the risks and rewards, weighing the possibility of returning empty-handed against the "future" Euron had hinted at that enormous loan. Finally, as if making a decision, he looked up and, in an almost exhausted tone, replied briefly, "Fine."

At this moment, the largest private loan in Westeros' history was agreed upon in this newly acquired castle in a manner akin to robbery.

Highgarden, a castle situated on the banks of the Mandeb River and renowned for its gardens and opulence, is currently basking in the warm and pleasant southern sunshine.

However, beneath its magnificent halls flowed undercurrents far more complex than those on the battlefield.

Mace Tyrell, Duke of Highgarden, Warden of the South, Warden of the Frontier, and High Lord of the Reach, sat smugly in the main seat, adorned in the magnificent robes that symbolized his many titles. He had recently returned from the long siege of Storm's End.

In all the public reports of victory and memorials presented to King's Landing, the glorious victory at the Battle of Tentree Beach was entirely attributed to Mace Tyrell's "brilliant command." Although everyone in the know understood that the battle, from deployment to defeat, actually relied entirely on the military talent of Lord Randle Tarly, the Duke of Mace comfortably claimed all the credit for himself.

After that, Duke Mace Tyrell personally led the Reach army north, completely besieging Storm's End. This seemingly large-scale military operation was far more complex than it appeared. It was not a strategic decision made by Duke Mace himself, but rather a carefully orchestrated move by his mother, Lady Olenna Redwyn, the "Queen of Thorns."

Lady Olenna's calculations were profound and precise. She needed to outwardly demonstrate the Tyrells' "loyalty" and "actions" to the Iron Throne, but she absolutely could not inflict any substantial damage on the rising rebel army, lest she cut off any future room for maneuver. Thus, besieging Storm's End, a relatively remote location whose garrison was unable to participate in major battles in the short term, and which was also the territory of Robert, the leader of the rebels, and defended by Robert's brother Stannis, became the perfect choice for this tactic.

This move was like a carefully orchestrated drama: it could both send "good news" to King's Landing, highlighting the "achievements" of the Reach, and place the main force of the family in a relatively safe position, avoiding involvement in the upcoming decisive battle that would determine the fate of the kingdom.

This rose of Highgarden, protected by thorns, is performing a cautious and elegant political swan dance.

The situation on the battlefield has changed dramatically. Duke Mace's massive, unscathed army, untouched by the war, still has Stannis Baratheon firmly besieged in Storm's End, but he himself has suddenly returned to Highgarden.

Inside the High Court's council chamber, the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers, and sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow.

Seated beside the main seat, Lady Olenna Redwyn, the "Queen of Thorns," spoke with a tone colder than the northern winds. Without even glancing at her son, she asked directly, "What have you done back? Haven't you seen enough of Storm's End?"

Duke Mace Tyrell was somewhat embarrassed by his mother's attitude. A hint of displeasure flashed across his plump face as he retorted, "Mother! The army is just sitting there all day doing nothing! How can I, as the commander-in-chief, use my talents?"

Lady Olenna finally raised her eyes, her sharp gaze filled with undisguised sarcasm: "Talent? What talent? Is it the talent of counting provisions every day, or the talent of staring blankly at Stannis's stone face?"

Mays choked for a moment, her face flushing red, and tried to bring up her only "achievement": "Don't forget, back at Censhu Beach—"

"I haven't forgotten!" Lady Olena interrupted him rudely, as if swatting away a fly. "Alright, just say it. What 'amazing' plan do you have that's worth abandoning your army and running back?"

Mace Tyrell waved the battle report from King's Landing in his hand, his tone a mixture of disbelief and a strange sense of superiority: "The rebels first routed Jon Clinton at Stonehall, and now they've taken Harrenhal! How have they been so unstoppable? What's the reason?"

Lady Olena, leisurely trimming a pot of roses, didn't even look up, and softly retorted in her characteristically sickeningly sweet tone, "Oh? My dear son, is it because—your brilliant command was lacking in these important battles?"

Duke Mays completely missed the sharp barb in his mother's words. Instead, as if struck by a revelation, he slapped his thigh forcefully: "Of course! Mother, you're absolutely right! Looking at the entire war, of all the battles against the rebels, only I achieved a decisive victory at Censhu Beach!"

He abruptly stood up, straining his thick chest to appear more imposing, and raised his voice an octave: "Therefore, I must act! I will personally lead the main force of the Reach to King's Landing, answer the King's call, fight alongside Prince Rhaegar, and utterly annihilate these rebels!"

He stood there, as if he could already see himself being named a national hero, his face radiating confidence, completely unaware of the complex look in his mother's eyes behind him, a look that was a mixture of helplessness, sarcasm, and deep worry.

Lady Olenna stared at him silently for a few seconds, a look that quickly extinguished Mace's newly mustered courage. Then, in an unquestionable, conversation-ending tone, she said, "Enough. Pack your things and go back to Storm's End. I will not let any Highgarden man go to his death with an inflatable fish in King's Landing."

These words, like a cold command, brought this brief meeting to a close.