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"Damn bastard, he doesn't trust us at all."
The dim candlelight flickered in the dark tower as he abruptly slammed his wine glass onto the round table. Three men sat in the room, their sleeveless leather vests emblazoned with spruce and white crescent emblems.
Anyone familiar with noble sigils would recognize them instantly as belonging to the prominent Fell family of Fallenwood in the Stormlands.
Earl Heywood Fell, in his thirties with thick hair and a lush beard, usually possessed a calm and refined voice. Yet, at this moment, he was seething with anger, his eyes as fierce as the flames on the former King Stannis's banner. Seated with him were Ser Oakley Cullen of Nightsong and Ser Sebastian Errol of Hay Hall, both having answered Storm's End's call on behalf of their respective families.
"Be careful, Heywood. He is our lord, after all," Ser Sebastian cautioned. He had led the left wing of Storm's End in the Battle of the Rainforest and greatly admired the young Regent Prince's strategic timing during the war.
"My knees will only bend for a Baratheon. If he can't bring back the princess, then don't expect me to follow any of his instructions," Earl Heywood retorted defiantly.
"There won't be any eunuchs here," Ser Oakley of Nightsong interjected. "I think this isn't just Lord Heywood's opinion. His Royal Highness the Regent Prince doesn't seem to take us seriously. Though the raven's letter of appeal was sincere, the prince's actions suggest his trust in us is even less than in those serfs.
" In his view, the call from Storm's End was an appeal for aid from the lords. The "serfs" referred to the regiments scattered around the castle; as temporary recruits, these men were typically undervalued by the lords.
Yet, now the Regent Prince favored them greatly. In the lords' minds, knights were the primary force for turning the tide of battle.
"He'd better give me a reasonable explanation, otherwise I will lead the knights back to Fallenwood." As a vassal, going to war with his own lord would be a tremendous disgrace for Heywood.
"Perhaps our prince wishes to emulate the merchants of Slaver's Bay and train a serf army," Oakley Cullen mused with a hint of sarcasm.
"The birdless eunuchs can only scare those idle Dothraki," Heywood scoffed.
"If that's the case, our Targaryen Princess isn't faring well," Ser Oakley said in a joking tone. He then produced a letter. He hadn't called Heywood Fell and Sebastian Errol here just for small talk and drinks. "This is a letter I acquired by chance." He spread out the envelope, the Martell sun on the wax seal strikingly prominent. This was a letter sent from Dorne.
Heywood and Sebastian passed the letter between them. Its content was unremarkable: merely an announcement that the Dornish princess would be visiting Storm's End.
"Why would the Dornish come to Storm's End?" Heywood asked. The nobles of the Stormlands had always disliked the descendants of the Rhoynar, especially the border lords, who harbored a generational blood feud with the Dornish.
"I received some news," Oakley's voice lowered. "Our prince seems to have reached some agreement with the Dornish and is preparing to let the Dothraki from across the sea land in the Stormlands."
"Let those Dothraki enter the Stormlands? This is crazy!" Sebastian exclaimed in astonishment.
"Impossible! Unless he's mad, even if the Mad King were reborn, he wouldn't do such a insane thing." Earl Heywood couldn't imagine what would happen if those barbarians entered the Stormlands.
Although the Stormlands weren't the richest land in the Seven Kingdoms, they were certainly wealthier than the barren North, despite the considerable damage caused by the war.
The Dothraki's evil deeds were known to everyone, from the Sunset Sea to the Free Cities. In some bards' tales, these barbarians were even comparable to the White Walkers—devil warriors who left no one alive.
The faces of the three men were grim. This was not good news for them. The Stormlands were their families' ancestral home. No one wanted uncertain elements to appear here, let alone the notorious Dothraki.
"Think about those folk in the Kingswood," Oakley reminded them. The free people settled in the Kingswood had recently had frequent conflicts with the scattered military detachments. Remembering the Regent Prince directly giving the Kingswood to the wildlings, their expressions grew even more solemn.
Meanwhile, Cole was leading his ship across the uncharted sea. With Caesar's navigation, they stayed far from the coast, sailing swiftly south with ample supplies. During this journey, they discovered several islands.
Cole did not allow anyone to venture onto them, instead choosing to observe the panoramic view from the sky through Caesar's eyes.
The "White Bird" was a newly built two-masted warship from the Stormlands, equipped with 120 rowers. It could also be propelled by manpower in headwinds. From the East Sea to Storm's End, it spanned almost half the continent of Westeros.
At the White Bird's fastest speed, the journey would still take at least one to two weeks. For those prone to seasickness, it would be a disastrous voyage. Mance's wildling prince and the wildling princess Val were among them.
Taking them south was a means to restrain the King-Beyond-the-Wall, and also a form of disguised protection for them. Even if the wildling king eventually reconciled with the Starks, he wouldn't be truly united with the northerners for the sake of his son.
Cole had no easy plan for dealing with the North. No one knew when the White Walkers would come or if the Wall could truly stop them.
The dragon's ability to sense danger allowed Caesar to feel the peril beyond the Wall. Such abilities were not uncommon in these strange creatures. During the Red Wedding, the direwolf Grey Wind had sensed the coming danger in advance.
Later, when the Night's Watch betrayed Cole, Ghost also showed signs of abnormality. This trip north was partly selfish and hadn't been smooth, but he wouldn't regret it.
Tywin Lannister's assassination and death were indeed beyond Cole's expectations. The moment he received the letter, he thought of Varys.
After all, there were always many speculations about this mysterious Master of Whisperers. He might be a descendant of Blackfyre.
Varys himself had mentioned that some of his parts were cut off by wizards to perform blood magic. From the perspective of blood magic, Cole only knew that the red-robed woman Melisandre and Mirri Maz Duur, who sought to harm Daenerys, had used it.
From the details, it seemed that every use of blood magic was connected with the Targaryen bloodline, whether it was Stannis summoning the shadow killer with his own blood to kill Renly and Cortnay Penrose, or the blood of Robert's illegitimate son Edric Storm to curse the three "false kings," or even the blood witch resurrecting the horse king with the son of the dragon mother.
These individuals all had more or less Targaryen genes flowing in their blood. Therefore, if Varys could successfully perform blood magic, then he might possess the dragon bloodline.
Of course, this was just a guess. If Varys was a descendant of Blackfyre, what he wanted was nothing more than to see his own lineage ascend to the throne.
In that case, the "little Griffin" he wished to support was likely a Blackfyre descendant. As for whether he was the son of lllyrio, the Magister of Pentos, Cole didn't know.
He only knew that he was now the true Aegon Targaryen, certified by the dragon and endorsed by the royal family.