There beneath the black pavillion, the king consults with Oakenfist—his ships have withdrawn a little way south of the river, after the engines on Godsgrace started flinging stones in their direction—and some of his other captains. “... cannot see what they hope to achieve, but the Dornish are stubbon,” King Daeron can be overheard as a servant of his brings certain men he’s summoned into his presnece. “Mayhaps I should offer a last amnesty, if they surrender…”
He muses aloud, but Ser Alyn scoffs. “With Martell leading them? Never in life. Not even if good Ser Sarmion were dead. At Sunspear, when they rebelled, do you know how he had me release his brother? By saying he didn’t care, and reminding me that if Prince Marence died, _he’d_ rule Dorne. The sands would drown in blood, had he his choice.”
And with that, the man comes out to lead you into his pavillion, where he sits with Ser Alyn, with Prince Aemon standing guard behind him, much as Ser Olyvar and Ser Osbert stand to either side of the pavilions entrance.
“When you return to the Planky Town,” the king continues to Ser Alyn afterward, as the knights enter, “you will have a dispatch with my seal to send by ship to the Arbor. I will have Lord Redwyne finally share some of the royal fleet’s work after what you’ve reported of the condition of so many of our galleys. He can bring fresh supplies, and new ships.” And then, he gives Luthor and Crakehall a glance, and motions them to a camp seat. “Sers, sit. Have wine.”
“You’ve found yourselves in good quarters, sers? And Lord Lannister’s men that you lead, Ser Elmer, them as well?” asks Daeron of both knights, purple eyes seemingly showing genuine interest.
“As to Ser William, do not mind him Ser Luthor,” says the Young Dragon. “He may be quick to judge, but he knows what he’s about.” Shifting in the seat with care, he takes up a cup from the table he has, and takes a swallow before continuing on. “I know you are fit enough, Ser Luthor, and I’ve had reports on the state of your men, Ser Elmer. I’ve had a thought for a task for you both, thanks to a report from Ser Alyn.”
“I’ve gained some familiarity with the Greenblood, sers, in my years here,” says Velaryon, “and when we came up the river, I noticed something curious not half a day to the south. There’s a village with a small dock, and a little mud-brick holdfast. I don’t know its name. But usually, it’s quite populous—men, women, children, goats, and the like. I feared they’d be able to send a warning to Godsgrace ahead of us, if they saw us. Dawn caught us still beating oars against the river, but… no one was evident. Not even goats. The whole village seemed empty, as if they had all disappeared.”
“Or at least,” Daeron interjects, “it seemed empty. We do not know, coz.” Turning to the two knights, he asks, “What do you think of the tale, sers? I mean to have you go with my cousin—half a day down, a day’s ride back if you avoid the Dornish outriders—and discover what you may. And bring back whatever supplies you can carry—you’ll have some horse carts, and carters with you.”
“More supplies will not hurt,” says King Daeron, following on his cousin. “But the important thing is to discover why the village was emptied. If the Dornish have been turning out all the villages, they may be raising a second army—the sweepings of Dorne, but an army none the less—and this must be dealt with.”
Another servant arrives outside of the pavilion, leading another Crakehall knigh.
The king swallows from his own cup, and turning to Luthor and Elmer he adds, “A score of your westermen, Ser Elmer. Ser Luthor? You shall have ten of mine own knights, including Ser Blayne Condon—a good knight, and wiser than most. That leaves Ser Burton to fill the last places with ten of his own.”
Daeron nods his head at that, and sets his own cup down after a dutiful swallow. “My thanks, sers.” He stands then—a servant discreetly helps him, as his left arm should not be used—and adds, as his gaze turns to his cousin. “Time to see to the town’s walls, coz; I’d appreciate your advice.” To the other men, the king says, “Feel free to have more wine, sers, and to discuss arrangements for your journey tomorrow. Take no undue risks, and recall, the chief goal is to learn what’s happened—any forage will be a gift.”
Then after Ser Elmer speaks he adds. “Too true ser,” and raises his cup to the Crakehalls.