Rhaegar led his retinue out of Gulltown, following Lord Jon Arryn toward the Eyrie.
Lord Jon had no love for sightseeing. After leaving Gulltown, he did not take Rhaegar to visit other lords' cities. Rhaegar felt like a proud mountain eagle, flying straight to the nest.
However, Rhaegar shouldered an urgent mission. Once completed, he could tour the Vale at his leisure.
The Mountains of the Moon!
Nettles! Sheepstealer, that wild dragon! Perhaps they were both dead. I hope to find some useful clues.
The Mountains of the Moon stood like a city wall, protecting the most vital part of the Vale.
The moon-and-falcon banners and the black-and-red dragon banners fluttered in the wind along the Vale roads. Villagers and minor lords gave way, paying their respects to the procession.
Passing through wheat fields, seeing wildflowers, green grass, and villages, Rhaegar and Lord Jon arrived at the Gates of the Moon.
The Gates of the Moon lay at the foot of the Giant's Lance. Within stood a moat, a gatehouse, and square towers.
Above it, in ascending order, were Stone, Snow, and Sky, and finally the Eyrie itself.
The Eyrie in the narrow sense was small, but in the broad sense, the Eyrie possessed five layers of defense, making it an incomparably sturdy and impregnable fortress.
"This is our Eyrie. In terms of prosperity, the Eyrie cannot match other cities. But in terms of steepness and majesty, the Eyrie is unique. The Eyrie is impregnable!" Lord Jon pointed proudly to the towering peak, showing it to Rhaegar. At the extreme height, a white light shimmered; looking up, one could faintly see a white tower. That was the Eyrie, soaring in the sky with the falcons.
Rhaegar smiled slightly and did not refute Lord Jon. The Eyrie was naturally unreachable by men; House Targaryen had only conquered it with the power of dragons.
The Eyrie was too high and perilous to house many people. Every winter, House Arryn descended to their winter palace—the Gates of the Moon—and the heir usually served as the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon.
Outside the moat of the Gates of the Moon, a blond youth led a group to welcome Lord Jon and Prince Rhaegar. The young man had blond hair, blue eyes, and an aquiline nose, looking slightly older than Rhaegar.
"Welcome home, Uncle."
"Welcome, Prince Rhaegar." There seemed to be a faint sadness in the blond youth's blue eyes, though it did not diminish his handsomeness.
Rhaegar knew who this young man was: Elbert Arryn, the son of Lord Jon's brother, the former first-in-line heir to the Vale, and Keeper of the Gates of the Moon.
However, with the birth of Lord Jon's son, young Elbert had fallen into an awkward position. The position of Keeper of the Gates of the Moon was precarious, and the displaced heir was in a dangerous situation.
"You have done well!" Lord Jon offered a kind smile, but Elbert looked even more uneasy.
Rhaegar watched the two. The shift in power had already caused a huge rift between them. Lord Jon had moved swiftly, purging some of Elbert's overly fanatical supporters. Even if Elbert was innocent, he understood what this meant. Besides, power always forces one to mature early.
The surrounding Vale knights remained stony-faced; they owed allegiance only to the Lord.
"Enter the castle!" Lord Jon raised his hand, and drums sounded. Everyone flooded into the Gates of the Moon.
Rhaegar's guard was particularly numerous. Perhaps the Gates of the Moon rarely saw such a lively scene.
The weather hadn't fully warmed yet, which was ideal for training guards and convenient for sweeping the Mountains of the Moon.
Such a large population needing training was a burden on the Gates of the Moon.
After some thought, Rhaegar borrowed a temporary campsite from Lord Arryn... at the foot of the Giant's Lance, not far from the Gates of the Moon, Rhaegar and his guards began to repair a temporary barracks.
Black banners with red dragons, and symmetrical banners featuring both the dragon and the red eagle, flew as the warriors worked hard.
The Vale was rich in timber, and Rhaegar's guards were skilled.
Spruce, pine, and black mountain rock were all excellent materials.
The guards were Rhaegar's initial investment; he didn't need to worry too much about their pay.
One advantage of recruiting noble sons was that they brought their own resources. The downside was that family ties were too complex for total independence. But for now, attracting some "angel investors" was enough; there was no need to overthink the rest.
Many guards sent letters to their fathers and brothers in Gulltown. Marching tents, marble, soldier's swords, mid-to-high-grade armor, and supplies were shipped in from all over.
Rhaegar led them in building the camp, erecting simple houses and fencing them in. Then they cleared land for farming, found water sources, and built training grounds, stables, and kitchens.
Rhaegar had Sessa coordinate the guards' specialties to fully utilize their talents. Guards from grain merchant families served as quartermasters; the son of a decoration merchant managed logistics; while those strong second sons from poor families were assigned to the assault squads.
Rhaegar and his guards handled everything personally.
Eating, drinking, and living together, these guards soon turned into Rhaegar's mules, enduring hardship and labor.
Rhaegar managed their logistics, arranged for instructors to train everyone collectively, and in his spare time, hunted with the guards and falcons. Their lives were happy.
Drawing bows like the wind, riding horses like dragons, amidst the pastoral scenery of the Vale, Rhaegar felt he was slowly forgetting his original mission.
Lord Jon occasionally inspected Rhaegar's camp and found that the Prince's retinue was not just playing house; they were truly coalescing into a military force.
Prince Rhaegar organized a simple tug-of-war for his guards. All guards stood on either side of the white line, competing with high spirits.
Marching with weights, pulling ropes, throwing spears, sparring with swords—the guards' strength grew day by day. But Rhaegar had not yet told them how to release their accumulated energy and passion.
Lord Jon summoned Rhaegar to his solar. "Are you going to wage war on the mountain clans?" Lord Jon asked, his tone turning serious. The Vale was peaceful for now; the real powder keg was the mountain clans of the Mountains of the Moon.
Lord Jon understood that nothing in the Vale could truly interest Rhaegar; the only thing that might attract him was the legend of Nettles and Sheepstealer, the wild dragon. Recruiting troops and training soldiers was precisely for dealing with the mountain clans; this was a premeditated war.
"Indeed!" Rhaegar nodded.
Lord Jon sucked in a breath of cold air and glared at Barristan, Sessa, Brynden, and the others. "The Prince is mad, and you are all mad too. War is not child's play. Those mountain savages are fierce and barbaric, hard to root out. The Prince is still young."
Barristan, Sessa, Brynden, and the others were silent. Rhaegar had slowly persuaded them.
Brynden and Barristan both craved honor and shouldered the duty of protecting the Prince, while Sessa was both the Prince's mentor and friend.
"Tygett Lannister was on the battlefield at ten, and the same for Tywin's other brothers. How am I any different?" Rhaegar said.
"The Fire Witch and Nettles may not be in the Mountains of the Moon at all. Besides, Nettles was lowborn; what does she have worth risking this for?" Lord Jon persuaded.
"If there really is a treasure hidden in the Mountains of the Moon and I miss it, I will regret it deeply," Rhaegar replied.
When the flowers bloomed and the mountain roads opened, he would begin his dragon hunt.
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