Blood of Dragons

The Kingswood is a fickle beast, one to tread lightly with. Its sprawling vastness might contain game aplenty for the noble palates of the court, timber for the Crown to trade, and keeps still. But there amidst the myriad trees, where the harsh stare of King and court can’t quite be felt, trouble has precious room to sprout, then grow. And when a beast is cut and scorched, it does eventually bite.

The whispers and rumblings have proved right. After giving way to irksome disorder and then ominous lawlessness, the wood has descended to open rebellion. Word came to the Red Keep speaking of an ambush on the very Warden, Ser Jan Marbrand, and a party of nobles.

The culprits? A band under the so-called “Knight of Ashes” and a Septon for the nonce unnamed. For the life of Marbrand and his erstwhile charges, now captive, they sought ransom and that the wardenry depart with its tail twixt its legs within seven days, or be driven out. They had gall enough to denounce the King himself, dismissing him as the Fat Dragon. “The wood belongs to its people”, their call, a call heeded by crofters and archers and former soldiers now adrift, in the tens and hundreds. So claim reports coming by the day.

They shall all have to face the fierce response of the Crown. A quarter of King’s Landing’s gold cloaks, under their Commander Ser Luthor Rivers and Ser Terrence Toyne of the Kingsguard, bolstered by valiant knights of the court eager to restore honour, are marching to the wood to relieve the assault on the wardenry, by speaking with blades where orders were ignored. There is to be little to no quarter.

‘Twas fortuitous alacrity. Perhaps even strategic, some who remember the first vague missive might say, for Marbrand was chiefly, it transpired, escorting Lady Alys Baratheon and her little daughters. Their narrow escape only barely eases the sting of the rebels’ insult to Storm’s End.

Other noble ladies of the court are, supposedly, to eschew the company of tailors and jewelers for once, in order to ensure yet more supplies for the knights in the woodlands, or perhaps the beleaguered wardenry itself.

And Queen Naerys, ever kind, has allowed her Veiled Ladies to lead prayers. That the Stranger now hovering over the Kingswood be illiberal with his kisses, and see husbands, brothers, and sons safely returned home.