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Tensions mount, day by day, and there are those now who fear Prince Marence’s infirmity could very well lead to a violent struggle for the control of Dorne. In the halls of power, the Keepers of Sunspear struggle on, maintaing a tenuous order in the city… and watching disorder grow unchecked outside of it, as distant lords begin to ignore their missives and decide matters as if there were no higher power than themselves. Matters are made worse by the partisans of Prince Marence’s brothers, Cadan and Rhodry, each of whom has laid claim to the regency of Dorne while their brother languishes in
As the Keepers gathered the officers of the court of Sunspear to deal with affairs of the Old Palace and the shadow city, trouble brewed thanks to the attendance of the princes Cadan and Rhodry. With Prince Marence still unfit to rule—gripped by paralysing fear at times, by deep lethargy and indecision at others, and still physically weak from the yet-unsolved attempt to poison him—unease has grown concerning how the realm would be ruled and only the efforts of the three Keepers to maintain a semblance of control has kept panic at bay. But the brothers? The brothers may have begun the slow
In the wake of the bloody conflict between the Dalts and Gargalens over a desert well, some wondered how a lasting peace could be restored. The heir to Lemonwood had died, cut down by the Gargalens of Salt Shore. Retribution was called for, and it was given—in a way. For Prince Marence, having for too long (as some say) been indecisive at last called for an end to bloodshed. Wild Willum Gargalen was sent into exile for his part in Ser Blaise’s death, and the well fell to neither Lemonwood nor Salt Shore but to Sunspear. There were many who were dissatisfied with Prince Marence’s decision, but
From the Citadel, pale wings took flight across the realm.
In Oldtown, bells tolled.
In Highgarden, the news was taken as reason for a winter festival to be readied.
In the bowels of Casterly Rock, Lord Loreon resumed counting his coins.
In Riverrun, the Tullys were occupied with the latest series of petitions and counter-petitions from the Blackwoods and Brackens, and considered the question of whom would attend the marriage of Jannia Tully to Lord Jarmon Buckwell in a few months time.
At Storm’s End, Lord Corwen Baratheon is said to have dismissed the news of a white raven’s arrival,
From the Tower of the Sun, where the court of the Prince manage the affairs of the realm, an official pronouncement is issued declaring as true something that had been rumored and gossiped about for weeks: Dorne is indeed sending emissaries to the court of the Sealord of Braavos to discuss important matters concerning trade in the narrow sea. With rumors of corsairs growing bolder—news from King’s Landing, filtered through galleys and couriers alike, made that more than plain—and Lys and Pentos approaching open war over the Stepstones and trade routes, Dorne’s interests are plain enough. But
In the shadow city, in the winesinks and the pillow houses, there is talk of many things, of news from places near and far. Merchants tell of the disruption of trade caused by fears over the Iron Throne fleet in the Stepstones meaning to do more than sweep out pirates, and of the real harm that the notorious corsairs of those waters have caused in the Narrow Sea. But others speak of the greater storm brewing between the Free Cities, a trade war that might become something all together more dangerous if they come to blows.
In the halls and chambers of the Old Palace, the nobles tell similar
After many months of negotiation, waiting, and speculation, and a fortnight after plans were at last announced, the Dornish emissaries to King Baelor’s court at last departed by ship from the Planky Town. The feast the evening prior to their departure had been without any noteworthy incident. Prince Marence had arranged no joust or melee to go with it, perhaps for fear of what might happen; little more than a month before one of the Iron Throne’s own emissaries—the famed Lord Mallister—had come to a horrible, disfiguring jousting injury thanks to the prince’s own brother, Prince Rhodry. The
It was with anticipation that the court and the people of the shadow city met the tourney that Prince Marence had called, though it was not necessarily a welcoming anticipation. The rumors were rife that the tourney was an occasion for the Prince of Dorne to name the date at which a party of emissaries would leave for the Iron Throne, counterpart to that foreign embassy already in the city. Many doubted the efficacy of such a plan, the trustworthiness of the lords north of the mountains, or even of the gods-mad king that rules the Seven Kingdoms. Yet still, perhaps the rumors were wrong…
Weeks had passed since the emissaries from the Iron Throne had arrived at the Old Palace of Sunspear, and the lords and knights and ladies in that company seemed to have found a place at the court that was, if not comfortable, at least safe. Though there were tensions—snide remarks and sullen glances, whispers behind backs and any number of minor discourtesies offered them by some of the Dornish—it had seemed peaceful enough. Perhaps in the cause of improving relations further, perhaps merely to show his strong support for the embassy, Prince Marence commanded a tourney with rich prizes. It
Only months before, Prince Marence had revealed the agreement made with King Baelor to exchange envoys to further the cause of peace between the two realms of Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms, and now the first party of envoys—those from King’s Landing—had arrived at the Planky Town. Greeted by the castellan Ser Laurent Dalt and certain other leading lords and ladies of the court, the envoys were welcomed into the citadel there to spend the night and to see their goods and gifts brought to the shore. The very next day, early in the morning, the lords and ladies and knights who made up the
Beneath the dome of the Tower of the Sun, the court of Sunspear in all its glittering, colorful elegance gathered to hear Prince Marence give audience to any who would speak. Most were there to hear, no more… but what they wanted to hear were the announcements that whispers said the prince planned to make, announcements that might shake the court. Some wondered if the prince was to reveal his intention to take a third wife, to see if he would have any more luck than with the prior two. There were those who muttered darkly about Yronwood, as well, wondering if the prince must reveal some huge
Prince Marence’s return from his campaign in the Boneway—a debacle, many say, though the lives lost were few—was not greeted with any great fanfare in the streets of the shadow city, nor within the halls of Sunspear itself. The less said of what happened at Yronwood, where Lady Yronwood had outmanoeuvred him and forced the prince to a peace that many consider humiliating, the better—or so those who cling to the prince and support him would have it. Marence himself has been a brooding man… and a busy man, too, though he has kept his counsel close. Ser Mavros Uller has often been seen meeting
And like that, the Yronwood rebellion in the Boneway comes to an end: not with a bloody battle, not with the Yronwood banners dipping, nor the Martell banners. But through a truce, a peace negotiated under the worst of circumstances: a ruse that left the Martell host ill-prepared, more than evenly matched, outwitted. And all because Prince Marence, good and just as he is, gave the Yronwoods one chance too many to surrender itself.
The Yronwood army had been forced—or so Prince Marence thought—to go to ground, to leave the Boneway itself and be driven, step by step, towards a dead end, an
The Dornish royal fleet travelling toward Yronwood had encountered contrary winds after it rounded the Broken Arm… and then a gale howling from Cape Wrath and the narrow sea split it apart—galleys racing west, fat-bellied cogs anchoring to weather the storm… and one last galley, leaking water and unable to stand such seas, forced to chance the storm. The Prince’s Pride carried notables: the heirs to Hellholt and Lemonwood, the famed Bastard of the Red Dunes, the illegitimate daughter of the infamous Ser Mavros Uller whose capture by Lady Yronwood precipitated this show of arms, and others
Hunting in a great company at the edge of the desert north of Sunspear, the Prince of Dorne was attended by courtiers, knights and ladies both, as they tried their hawks and falcons, and tested their bows and spears. Prince Marence had been in a notably glad mood, and the rumor about the court was that recently Ser Mavros Uller had communicated from Yronwood that negotiations went well and that Lady Yronwood would soon relent in her near-rebellious obstinancy. At a desert oasis, they hunted their fill, sending arrows at scattered birds that the hunters had raised. All was going well…
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