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Chapter 198: Two Uninvited Guests
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 12:06:30 +0000 UTCThe Summerhall Tournament lasted for ten days, and in terms of grandeur, it was not far behind the one held in King's Landing.
Over 4,000 people participated in the team competitions, making it almost as large as a small war, while the archery contest saw more than 5,000 archers competing.
As for the jousting tournament, more than 2,000 knights took part, the vast majority of whom were renowned figures from across the Seven Kingdoms. Every duel was a spectacle, as all the participants were competing for the Valyrian steel sword and fought with everything they had.
The final match came down to a duel between Brienne and Jaime Lannister. Though their fight wasn’t as thrilling as Brienne’s legendary duel with Barristan Selmy in King’s Landing, it was still an intense battle. The two clashed for eleven rounds, breaking eleven lances in the process, until Brienne narrowly emerged victorious. Claiming the Valyrian steel sword, she cemented her reputation as the ideal knight and became widely known across Westeros and Essos.
During the tournament, Lynd met with the visiting King Robert, though their meeting was neither pleasant nor productive.
However, despite the tense atmosphere, Lynd still managed to gather some valuable information. He learned that the additional taxes imposed on Summerhall were not Robert’s decision, but rather the work of Jon Arryn, who had unilaterally pushed the measure through. Robert had only allowed it because the Iron Throne was facing financial difficulties at the time.
Moreover, Lynd could sense that the true source of his strained relationship with Robert had less to do with taxes and more with his subjugation of the sea dragon.
Robert claimed to believe that Lynd had no Targaryen blood, but what he truly thought remained a mystery. Still, when the subject of the sea dragon came up, Lynd caught the unmistakable glint of envy and longing in Robert’s eyes—emotions the king couldn’t entirely conceal.
From this meeting, Lynd was certain that he could no longer count on Robert’s full trust. Their relationship would only grow colder, and whether it would eventually turn into outright hostility was uncertain.
Not that it mattered much to Lynd. He had already grown strong enough to stand on his own. As long as he remained cautious and avoided making himself an enemy of the entire Seven Kingdoms, there wouldn’t be any major problems.
However, the tournament also gave him insight into how the highest-ranking lords of the Seven Kingdoms viewed him.
Apart from King Robert, not a single Warden had personally attended the event. Instead, they had all sent representatives in their place. This made it clear that while they acknowledged Lynd’s strength, they still saw him as a mere upstart with no real foundation. In their eyes, he might not even measure up to the lords of the Twins or the Crownlands, despite their own relatively short lineages of just a century or so.
Their deep-rooted traditions had blinded them, making them focus solely on the history and glory of their noble houses, forgetting that true strength was the foundation upon which those legacies were built.
To Lynd, the tournament was nothing more than a brief interlude. Even while it was still underway, he had already begun preparing for the unification of the Stepstones. His plan was to wait until the little one had grown past the most fragile stage of infancy before setting out for the islands.
However, just as he was making his final preparations, two unexpected visitors arrived, slightly disrupting his plans.
"The Iron Throne wants to take back my rights to the Stepstones?" Lynd eyed the envoy before him with a hint of surprise—not because of the Iron Throne’s decision, but because of who had come to deliver the message.
It was none other than Littlefinger, Petyr Baelish, a man he had long kept an eye on.
Lynd had known for some time that Jon Arryn had transferred Littlefinger from Gulltown to King’s Landing, where his financial acumen had quickly earned him favor. In less than a year, he had risen to the position of Master of Coin on the Small Council.
What Lynd found puzzling, however, was why Jon Arryn had chosen to send Littlefinger as an envoy—and at such a crucial moment, when he was on the verge of launching his campaign to unify the Stepstones.
What was Arryn’s intent?
Did he truly expect Littlefinger to persuade him to abandon the agreement and return the Stepstones, which the Iron Throne had leased to him? Or was this a ploy to provoke him into losing his temper and eliminating the man who had cuckolded the Lord—disposing of the Lady’s lover on impulse?
"This decision was made by the Hand of the King during the Small Council meeting. Although many opposed it, the decision has already been passed. I hope you can understand, my lord." Littlefinger lowered his posture and explained respectfully to Lynd, making it clear that this was entirely Jon Arryn's unilateral decision and that he, as the envoy, should not be blamed.
As he looked at Lynd, Littlefinger maintained his signature harmless smile, but despite his best efforts to conceal his emotions, a flicker of jealousy still surfaced.
After all, when he had first heard Lynd’s name, the man had been nothing more than a minor figure he could trample over at will. But now, Lynd had become someone he had to look up to. Even though Littlefinger had risen to the position of Master of Coin, he remained at the mercy of others, forced to undertake dangerous diplomatic missions like this one. The thought of it left him feeling stifled and resentful.
"I am willing to withdraw from the Stepstones, which were leased under the Iron Throne’s name. However, according to the terms of our agreement, if the lease is terminated prematurely, the Iron Throne must compensate me at three times the rent. That means, in addition to the original sum of 500,000 gold dragons, you would owe me an additional 1.5 million, for a total of 2 million gold dragons." Lynd gazed calmly at Littlefinger and continued, "As the Master of Coin, you should be well aware that the Iron Throne’s finances cannot possibly afford such a sum. So, are you planning to break the agreement while also defaulting on the payment?"
"It's not a default—just a delay in repayment," Petyr replied with a smile, though inwardly he was cursing Jon Arryn.
"Then tell me the specifics. What is the plan? When and how much will be repaid? Or in what manner will the debt be settled?" Lynd pressed further.
Petyr knew perfectly well that the Iron Throne had no intention of repaying either the rent or the breach-of-contract penalty. Forced into a corner, he could only deflect. "That matter is still under discussion."
Lynd let out a cold chuckle. "So, in other words, you have no plan at all. And yet, you expect me to give up the Stepstones, which I paid a fortune to lease? Tell me, how is this any different from banditry? Is this what passes for the conduct of the Warden of the East, whose legacy spans a thousand years?"
He paused briefly, then continued before Littlefinger could respond. "Lord Petyr, you are a smart man. If I do as you ask and return the Stepstones, who do you plan to send to govern them? The islands are overrun with pirates, not to mention the presence of the mysterious sea monster. Do you really think your people will be able to hold them?"
Petyr understood the veiled threat. Lynd was making it clear—if the Iron Throne dared to send men to the Stepstones, he would make sure they never returned.
Though Littlefinger had long sought to create chaos within the Seven Kingdoms to further his own ambitions, now was not the time. His foundation was still too weak. Even if the realm fell into turmoil, he wouldn't be in a position to benefit—he might even lose the power he had already secured. He was acutely aware of this. And so was Lynd.
To Lynd, it was an amusing irony. The very man who would one day sow chaos in the Seven Kingdoms now found himself in the position of having to maintain stability.
Petyr carefully weighed his options before speaking. "If you agree to revoke the lease agreement and return the Stepstones, we can cancel the additional taxes imposed on Summerhall and fully open the markets in King’s Landing..."
"You can stop right there, Lord Petyr," Lynd interrupted. "If you had made this offer a year ago, I might have considered it. But my plan to unify the Stepstones is already in motion. There is no turning back now—the islands will not be returned." He raised a hand to silence Petyr before he could object and continued, "However, out of respect for the Iron Throne, I am willing to offer an additional 100,000 gold dragons as compensation. Furthermore, I will personally give you 20,000 gold dragons—as a token of appreciation for your efforts in persuading Lord Arryn."
Petyr remained silent for a few moments before finally nodding. "I am at your service, my lord."
With that, he quietly withdrew.
Though his expression remained unchanged, Lynd could clearly see the hint of anger in Littlefinger’s eyes. It was as if he considered Lynd’s blatant attempt to buy him off an insult.
Lynd was unconcerned. Now that he had reached his current level of power, Littlefinger’s scheming no longer posed a serious threat. His concerns about him had significantly diminished.
Besides, he had long since prepared for this eventuality. Not only was Varys keeping an eye on Littlefinger, but he had also placed his own spies within Petyr’s circle. If he wished, Littlefinger could be eliminated at any time, leaving no trace behind.
...
After dealing with Littlefinger, Lynd received another unexpected guest—though this one was an old acquaintance.
Prince Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper.
"I didn't see you at the tournament, yet here you are, meeting me in secret. Prince Oberyn, I doubt you came all this way just to see Augustus, did you?" Lynd asked with a smile, watching the Red Viper lounge carelessly in his chair.
"Of course not. I don’t like children," Oberyn replied bluntly, then turned his gaze to Lynd. "I came here on a mission. Sunspear is willing to relinquish control of Grey Gallows Island and the surrounding isles under our rule. Moreover, when you make your move on the Disputed Lands in the future, we will send troops to assist you."
Lynd raised an eyebrow. "You figured out that I intend to act against the Disputed Lands?"
"You've been flooding Tyrosh, Lys, and Myr with weapons, stoking their rivalries. The whole region is like a pile of dry wood drenched in oil—one spark, and it will be consumed by fire and war," Oberyn said with a smirk. He reached for a decorative bottle of wine from the table, pulled out the cork, and took a few swigs straight from the bottle. "Your methods aren’t particularly subtle, but they are undeniably effective. Even if the leaders of the three Free Cities see through your intentions, they can’t stop their subordinates, who are already burning with the will to fight. Like it or not, they will be dragged into the war exactly as you planned."
Lynd’s expression darkened slightly. "What do you want?"
"Revenge and justice," Oberyn said, straightening in his seat, his tone deadly serious.
"Are you preparing to go to war with the Iron Throne? Or is it the Westerlands you have in your sights?" Lynd asked.
"Neither," Oberyn shook his head. "If all I wanted was revenge, I have a thousand ways to kill Tywin and his monstrous lackeys, and I could ensure they died in unimaginable agony. But I haven’t done that—because what I seek is a trial. A grand trial, one that will lay bare Tywin's crimes for all of the Seven Kingdoms to witness."
Lynd immediately grasped the implication. "You want me to push for a Faith tribunal."
He chuckled before adding, "Have you considered what it would mean to put a great lord on trial before the Faith?"
"Of course," Oberyn nodded. "But don’t worry, the trial won’t happen immediately. It could be years before the time comes. We only ask that when it does, you stand with us."
Lynd suddenly changed the subject. "You recently returned from Essos, didn’t you?"
Oberyn hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I did."
Lynd met his gaze and spoke with deliberate intensity. "Tell me, what makes you think House Targaryen can reclaim the Iron Throne? Do you believe the Blackfyre descendants in the Golden Company will be enough? Or do you think your mercenary force with Jon Connington can make it happen? You must remember—when Aegon the Conqueror invaded, he had three dragons and still couldn’t claim all of Westeros in one stroke. What makes you think you can do it without dragons?"
For the first time, a flicker of unease crossed Oberyn’s face. He hadn't expected Lynd to know about his activities in Essos. A suspicion crept into his mind—was there a traitor among his ranks? His expression darkened for a brief moment.
But he recovered quickly, offering a knowing smile. "You forget—we have Dorne, the Reach, and your Summerhall."
Lynd wasn’t surprised that Dorne and the Reach had struck some kind of covert agreement. Neither Oberyn nor Arianne could be blamed for what had happened to Willas Tyrell, and while their houses still put on a show of cold relations, their growing trade over the years told a different story.
But the fact that Oberyn had included him in their calculations amused Lynd. He regarded the Red Viper carefully before speaking in a firm, measured tone. "His Grace has been good to me. As long as he lives, I will do nothing to oppose the Baratheon dynasty."
Oberyn fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "I understand. In that case, our agreement remains unchanged. Grey Gallows will still be yours, and when you move on the Disputed Lands, we will honor our promise to send troops. I trust you will keep your word as well."
Lynd could tell Oberyn had misunderstood his intent, but he saw no reason to correct him. He had little interest in what the future held for Westeros. His focus remained on the present—securing the Stepstones and bringing the Disputed Lands under his control.
