Central Highlands, rammed-earth fortress.
Lo Quen stood atop the highest watchtower of the fortress, a secret letter from Meizo clutched in his hand. His gaze drifted across the parchment, taking in the detailed report of Westeros's recent upheavals—Jon Arryn's sudden death, Eddard Stark's journey south to serve as Hand of the King.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Just as expected.
Eddard Stark had gone south after all. He must have received the letter Lo Quen had sent him. The ravens brought from the Citadel by Qyburn and Marwyn were well acquainted with the route to Winterfell.
Lo Quen's purpose in provoking conflict between Eddard and Renly was simple—to ensure that House Stark and Renly Baratheon would never find common ground.
In his eyes, Littlefinger's scheme held one fatal flaw. Without the red priestess's intervention on Stannis's behalf, Renly would likely have swept through to King's Landing unopposed and crowned himself king. After all, there had been no deep or irreconcilable conflict between House Stark and House Baratheon; cooperation between them was entirely possible.
Though Robb had later declared himself King in the North, that came only after the Lannisters executed Eddard Stark—something unrelated to the Baratheons. In fact, Catelyn had even been sent as an envoy to Bitterbridge, hoping to form an alliance with Renly.
Renly would, of course, be slain by the red priestess, but the Tyrells would remain. And Lo Quen intended to sow discord between House Tyrell and House Stark.
He had recently received word that Stannis had been stripped of his title as Master of Ships by King Robert, with Lord Mace Tyrell appointed in his place.
Lord Mace had contributed greatly to Robert's campaign on Bloodstone Isle and had personally paid the war reparations owed to the Iron Throne, earning himself the king's favor. The appointment of the Lord of Highgarden—who knew little of naval matters—instead of Lord Paxter Redwyne, made it clear just how much Robert valued him.
At first, the Tyrells had been pleased with this royal favor. But after Jon Arryn's death, when the king bypassed Mace Tyrell and instead journeyed north to invite Eddard Stark to serve as Hand of the King, it was an unmistakable slap in the face to House Tyrell.
Thus, a rift had already formed between the Starks and the Tyrells. Drawing Eddard into Renly's scheme to replace the queen would only deepen that divide until it erupted into a full-blown struggle for power.
Once Eddard exposed Renly and the Tyrells' conspiracy, how would House Tyrell view him then? And how would House Lannister view the Tyrells?
As for House Stark and House Lannister, Littlefinger hardly needed a dagger to sow discord. Once Cersei's secret was exposed, House Lannister would become the target of every noble house. Almost all those who had once supported the Baratheons' claim to the Iron Throne would turn against the lions of the Westerlands.
Of course, merely planting doubt in Eddard's mind about Renly's plans would not be enough to spark lasting enmity between House Stark and Renly. Lo Quen's greater designs were still unfolding.
Just then, Chai Yiq entered, bearing another message from Meizo.
"Your Grace, Lord Meizo writes that the Free Cities seem to have taken notice of the ongoing war in the Disputed Lands. The Triarch of Volantis claims that our presence has become a destabilizing force across all of Essos..."
Lo Quen fell silent in thought.
He had long anticipated that the other Free Cities would turn their attention to the war in the Disputed Lands. After all, hiding his movements was no longer possible.
With Tyrosh and Lys already conquered, the fall of Myr would mean the unification of the Triarchy under his rule. Such dominance would undoubtedly threaten the balance of power across the Free Cities.
He doubted they would intervene directly to aid Myr—but caution was still necessary.
Over the past two months, he had launched several probing assaults on the Myrish stronghold in the highlands. Slave soldiers operated dozens of captured and newly built catapults, raining boulders and incendiaries day and night against the fortress's massive stone walls.
The thunder of impact echoed without pause; smoke and dust blotted out the sun.
Yet despite the endless bombardment, the results remained disappointingly meager.
The catapult stones striking the towers might have some effect.
After all, tower walls were never built as thick as the castle's outer ramparts.
But when the stones hit those massive outer walls, they left only shallow dents and scattered bits of rubble—hardly enough to inflict any real structural damage. The Myrish soldiers remained holed up inside the fortress, relying on their solid defenses and plentiful supplies to resist stubbornly. They had stockpiled a staggering amount of food—enough to last one or even two years.
The battle had ground to a frustrating stalemate.
What worried Lo Quen even more was that the cavalry raids, which had once proven devastating, were beginning to lose their edge. The Myr, having suffered bitterly from earlier attacks, had clearly learned their lesson. Across their rear territories—at key manors, farms, and trade routes—they had quickly erected simple but sturdy walls and watchtower forts, garrisoning slave soldiers to defend them.
For the Dragon Soul Guards and the Windblown cavalry, the days of sweeping across the countryside unopposed, burning and plundering as they pleased, were over. Reports of casualties and failed raids were becoming more frequent.
The Myr were slowly using distance and fortifications to neutralize Lo Quen's advantage in mobility.
Faced with this situation, Lo Quen had not remained idle. He turned to Chai Yiq.
"You and Jaelena will stay here. I'm returning to Crown Town."
After securing the arrangements for the frontlines, Lo Quen led a detachment of Dragon Soul Guards, riding swiftly through the Three Daughters Forest and past the Watch Camp, heading south until they reached Crown Town.
After more than half a year of construction—and with the help of one hundred thousand Lyseni slaves—Conquest Keep had begun to reveal its grand form. The main tower, built of pristine white marble, was already complete. The remaining work now focused on the curtain walls and the construction of the inner roads.
He summoned Qyburn from the armory. With an abundant supply of iron ore, the armory had expanded to include ten weapon forges and five armor workshops. But Lo Quen's visit this time was not to inspect their progress.
He went instead to the deepest section of the armory—a massive stone hall filled with men wearing yellow hoods, their faces solemn and focused. Upon their robes was embroidered a symbol of a green flame.
They were pyromancers of the Alchemists' Guild.
Lo Quen had "invited" them from Lys and Tyrosh. The Alchemists' Guild was not confined to King's Landing—these madmen had branches scattered across Essos, even as far as Asshai.
Now, more than a hundred pyromancers crowded the workshop, engrossed in a perilous undertaking.
They were crafting wildfire.
When Lo Quen first faced the impregnable fortresses of the Myr, wildfire had immediately come to mind.
Wildfire—a ghostly green, volatile liquid that burned for an unnaturally long time. Once ignited, it devoured everything it touched. It could seep into cloth, wood, leather, even steel, setting them all ablaze. Its uncanny ability to burn even while floating on water made it a near-perfect weapon of war.
Lo Quen planned to load the wildfire into catapults and hurl it into the fortress, letting those mercenaries cowering behind stone walls feel what it meant to be consumed by fire.