The morning has seen fast broken, and an appointed meeting coming to fruition. Ushered by one of the Hand’s household guard into his tower, and up long, spiralling steps to his solar, Lord Arryn will find Prince Viserys standing before a window looking out into the yard below. The king might be glimpsed, silver-gold hair in the morning light, as he practices at arms with some of his friends. But at the knock at the door to announce the Lord of the Eyrie’s presence, Viserys turns.
“I hope the morning finds you well, Lord Jonothor,” the prince states, grave and polite in manner.
Jonothor nods stiffly and offers a short bow. “Indeed, there has been aught to mar it yet, my Lord Hand.” He comes to stand alongside the window, glancing downward at the scene. “But I have heard tidings, at least amongst my folk regarding a ship they say came from Ser Alyn bearing a message for the Small Council. Some say the ship was the bearer of ill news.” The lingering pause afterward poses his question better than mere words would.
Having turned back to watch through the window, as Daeron takes a pause in his practice—an arm raised to mop sweat from his brow, as he jests with one of his companions—Prince Viserys keeps silent for a little while. The purple eyes beneath the thick brows are dark, but for the light they reflect. “Not ill news, my lord,” he says at last. “Not as such. The rebels continue in the mountains, that it is largely Lord Tyrell’s concern. Ser Alyn has been sending missives calling for a fuller resumption of trade, following ... discussions with Prince Marence. It will be costly.”
“Ah.” Arryn digests the information amidst the faint laughter filtering up from the courtyard. “The realm has already suffered much in cost, and I do not speak of coin nor ships, though I have lost some of those also as the merchantmen from Gulltown call in the loan of their ships. The Dornish must shoulder any further cost, else this venture is beggaring ourselves for little gain.”
Jonothor looks up from the courtyard to turn back to Viserys. “It is said the Dornish are being treated too favourably, and I am of a mind to agree. The release of this young Dornishman who killed a dockman has set people talking, and some of my household do not feel safe around them any longer if they are encouraged in their impunity.”
What Prince Viserys thinks of that is not immediately clear. He watches for a last moment at the window and then turns, and gestures to a table with a pair of dark, oaken seats set at either end. “Will you sit, my lord?” he asks. There’s a serving man present, all but unnoticeable as he stands in a corner, and it’s to him that Viserys then turns his attention. “Some of the good summerwine, Hal,” he says, as he moves to seat himself. The servant brings out two fine goblets and the requested bottle, and sets them on the table. The wine is poured into Viserys’s cup, while the serving man awaits Lord Arryn’s sign as to whether he wishes any drink.
Regardless, once both men are settled, Viserys continues. “I will be frank with you, Lord Arryn. It is the concern of King Daeron ... and the small council,” he explains, letting the king’s name linger before adding the reference to the small council, “that if Dorne is left to its own devices, it will merely become a greater drag on the realm. There is some unrest in the river towns, as it is, due to dearth. Dorne alone cannot afford to feed itself after the destruction of the war, and so it seems it must fall on us. So Ser Alyn thinks, in any case, and Prince Marence. And the king is minded to agree.”
Jonothor accepts the seat and motions to the servant to pour him some wine. He takes one sip before setting the goblet back down again. “Very well, then; Dorne must be fed - save for those rebels who will be starved out unless they surrender.” Still, he continues.
“But if we grant them such benevolence, is it too much to ask that in return the Dornish conduct themselves in a seemly manner? This fellow who killed the dockworker is a knight, by some accounts. By what right did he presume to have a claim upon that man’s life? From what I hear, the act was not in defence of anyone else save this Dornishman’s vanity. If true, it demeans his knightly vow and Prince Cadan must be called to account for the Gargalen knight’s behaviour. Men are muttering that Lord Ryger was too lenient, and the Master of Laws must be someone who will uphold the laws and enforce it sharply when necessary.”
Arryn pauses. “I am mindful that Lord Terin may have some information that I do not, but the perception amongst the people is bad nevertheless.”
Viserys nods at the proscription against feeding rebels, a measured gesture as the goblet hovers near his lips. He takes a swallow after that, and leans back in his chair as Lord arryn continues. His full attention is on what is said, and he responds in a thoughtful way. “Lord Ryger questioned Ser Corrent on the matter, and Ser Richard had his watchmen make inquiries. It seemed that there was nothing to say that it was not in self-defense, except the word of the dead man’s friends.” Another sip of wine, and then he offers, “There were those who would have preferred to see a trial, I will say. The king thought it pointless, if it was so clear that the man was innocent. He felt that he had enough information, as the man who would judge the case if it came to a trial before him.”
“I have no doubt Ser Richard and Lord Ryger made very good investigations. I can appreciate His Grace is in a difficult position, for the Dornish are wards of the King and are here at his leisure,” Jonothor says, nodding at the Hand’s words.
“I have heard Ser Sarmion call for a trial by combat. While I believe it would turn into too much of a spectacle, the Seven would see that the matter is settled once and for all, and many pious folk would agree - it would certainly silence the talk amongst the smallfolk. It is probably too late, now that the matter has passed from Lord Ryger’s hands, but Prince Cadan must be urged to keep a tighter rein upon his people, lest this sort of incidence occur again and inflame the city.”
“Stormbreaker,” the Hand states rather flatly, and then makes a dismissive sound. “He has more courage than wisdom, I fear, and does anyone little good with such pronouncements. It would never happen, in any case. The king has vouchsafed the hostages their safety, so long as they abide by their oaths and the laws…” He trails off there, creased brow furrowing more deeply as he narrows his eyes thoughtfully…
“You feel,” he asks after this consideration pause, “that there is sufficient displeasure with this matter that the decision to avoid a trial should be reconsidered, then? I do not speak to the broader question of the royal policy concerning Dorne, of course. Simply to the trial.”
“Yes,” Jonothor answers, simply. “There have been a few men stirring up dissent - the deceased man’s kin. And the common folk are worried that one of their own was killed and the law appears to have offered them no protection. A trial would do much to restore their confidence, and it would also serve to warn the rest of the Dornishmen. I fear letting the Gargalen knight off so lightly emboldens them overmuch and they forget that they are the King’s wards.”
“As to the other matters of grain and feeding Dorne, I will send one of my stewards to meet with one of Lord Cargyll’s men, if it will help in arranging assistance from Gulltown.”
Weighing the words, Prince Viserys considers over a few more thoughtful sips. “I will bring the matter up before the small council again, Lord Jonothor. You have given us something to think about. Perhaps the decision was too hasty.” He takes another drink from the goblet, and then sets the the cup down. “As to trade with Dorne, it would be a help if the merchantmen of Gullstown put more effort into taking advantage of the king’s exemptions on the traffic of grain into Dorne, at least. The Eyrie has had a rich bounty, I have heard—the Summer has been a good one—and doubtless the grain would bring a good price in the Dornish markets.”
“As ever, produce from the Vale is of the highest quality, and will command a good price,” Jonothor agrees. “My stewards shall see what can be done. And as to the Gargalen knight - you have my thanks, and the thanks of a few others, I think.” A swift raise of the goblet, and it is drained in full. “With your leave, I shall let you attend to other matters, my Lord Hand.”