Lord Gyles Stark

Dorne had been a free and independent kingdom for seven years, and Gyles could not have felt more proud. Since coming to Dorne, he had to admit he had felt more at home in the land of his mother than in the land of his father, there had always been more chance for him here and it helped he supposed that the people of his mother's land saw him as a hero, or someone that they thought they should befriend. Dorne had managed to repel an invasion from the Iron Throne seven years ago and now they were experiencing a time of plenty, trade was flourishing, especially with the North and with the Free Cities, Volantis and Bravos in particular. There was trade with the iron throne and those kingdoms that still did obedience to it, due to the peace treaty that Gyles' brother and grandfather had signed and that his own uncle King Berros had signed as well, though relations were still awkward and after the years of tension between the iron throne and Drone it was only normal that the people of Dorne would be suspicious of any Westerosi that happened to come to Dorne for trade.

There had been a minor threat two years back from a pirate king who had taken it into his head that he wanted to rule Dorne, and having taken the Stepstones he had a base with which to go raiding and to cause trouble that might disturb the peace that they had all worked so hard to achieve, and so as Lord Marshal of Dorne, Gyles had mustered the Dornish Fleet docked in at Sunspear and had set sail to confront the pirate king, he had thought that perhaps the man would challenge him at sea, but no instead the fool had thought to challenge him on land. Alequo Aledo the Pirate King had been slain on Gallows Grey and his second in command, Saaro Saan thrown into the dungeons of Ghaston Grey to rot there for the rest of his days.

The people of Dorne seemed to revel in the peace that was now theirs for good it seemed, Gyles had attended more tourneys since the peace had been signed than he had ever attended or even dreamed of attending in the north. Tourneys in Wyl, Yronwood, Sandstone, Tor all over the kingdom he was invited to attend tourneys and he competed in a few of them, winning the tourneys held at Wyl and Yronwood the month past. Though he was amazed by the sheer scale of some of the tourneys that were put on in Dorne, Gyles had come to find that he did not particularly like all of the pageantry that accompanied them, and all the false posturing that some the knights, especially those newly made knights seemed to have when they competed. It made him think that should they ride in battle many of those puffed up knights would be cut down without much bother, and that bothered him.

That was why he had asked King Berros for permission to continue training the Dornish army even though they were in a time of peace for as he had said to the king, they could never be sure when a threat could emerge again, and he did not want the kingdom to fall because they were not ready to defend themselves. And so since that day he would spend some of his time out in the training yard in Sunspear training men who had come from all over the kingdom who would make up the marshal army that, they would be elite soldiers trained and living for the fight, always on the ready, and would be answerable to him, whilst he was answerable only to the king for their actions.

Of course with Westeros at peace now Gyles did not truly think that the elite force would be needed, at least not anytime soon though it was hard to know with Targaryens, as Gyles had learnt during the war to defend Dorne. Westeros was as a whole at peace with itself, Gyles brother King Daemon Stark had worked hard to make sure that the peace treaty was enforced both by those notoriously fickle Ironborn and by the northmen, and that the southerners kept their end of the bargain. Gyles knew this because he and Daemon still kept in touch through raven, and though he was happy that his brother was happy with what life had given him, he could not help but think that Daemon still missed Samaira and Jorelle, his wife and daughter who had been taken from him too soon. That was not good, and though Daemon would never formally acknowledge it not even to himself, Gyles knew that some small part of his brother resented Visenya Blackfyre for what she was and what she was not, whether the girl knew that or not Gyles knew not, but he was grateful that his brother was doing his best to make the best of the situation.

As to his own family life, Gyles could not have been happier. He deeply loved his wife and children, and was happy that he was able to get to know them as well as he could, for he had seen what had happened to his grandfather's family in the north and he never wanted that sort of situation to happen to his own family. His son Daemon was growing every day and had seen his fourth nameday not too long ago, his daughter Mariah was going to be the perfect little lady when she grew up he just knew it, and his second daughter Lyselle would be another perfect little lady as well, Gyles thanked the gods each day for what they had seen fit to give him, he could not have been happier. He did not truly miss the north, he missed Daemon and his grandmother, but he did not miss the coldness nor the emptiness he had often felt there, at least here in Dorne he had made something more of himself rather than just being the bastard brother of Daemon Stark, the rejected grandson of the Winter Dragon, here he was something, he was something that he wanted to be.

The opening of the council chambers doors shook him out of his reverie, he stood with the rest of the council as the king and the crown prince walked in, both King Berros and Prince Edgar were physically imposing men who were quick to anger but were both very loyal and proud. Once both men were seated the king nodded for the other council members to be seated and then the king spoke. "Now my lords, what news do you have for me since we last met?"

Grand Maester Alleras spoke first. "There has been word from Lord Santagar, it appears as if Grey Gallows and Bloodstone were completely ransacked by the rebels before they fled for parts unknown. "

The king was silent for a moment. "Very well, tell him that he may return home now, he has done his duty. Has there been word from Derryck as to what the citadels are doing?"

Maester Alleras shook his head and said. "No Your Grace, no word as of yet though I think I might have a very good guess as to what it is that they are trying to achieve with the ravens they sent to the capitals of all the kingdoms."

"Oh and what might that be?" The king asked his voice showing the growing impatience he was feeling.

Maester Alleras however seemed unperturbed by it and went on. "Winter is coming as sure as the sun sets in the night. The maesters need various things from all three of the kingdoms, that they could not get during times of war. As such they are needing these materials now and will do whatever it takes to get them. I would tread carefully with them Your Grace."

The king nodded and then asked. "What materials would they need from Dorne though? I was not aware we provided the citadel with anything of substance beyond perhaps an joke or two about the Martells."

The council members laughed but Maester Alleras simply stated. "Blood Your Grace. They need hot blooded men to defend themselves from the winter and to replenish their supply of men for Maesters to replace those who would die during the winter to come."

"So you think they are aiming to recruit men from Dorne? And why would that be?" The king asked.

The maester shrugged his shoulders. "As to that I could not say Your Grace."

The king sighed and said. "Well there's not much I can do until I know what they require from me. Very well, let us leave that matter to the side for now. Gyles what news do you have from the Marches and from Wyl?"

Gyles took a moment to look at his notes before he spoke. "Well Lady Wyl reports that there has been no sign of movement from the Vulture King or his cronies on her part of the border for some time. Though Lord Blackmont writes that the men at Vulture's have been seeing some strange activity as of late. Men coming and going from the stop posts dressed in black in sweltering heat, sweating and then fleeing when patrols go to question them as to their purpose. I believe that the Bandit leader is toying with us, trying to lure us into some sense of security or unease."

"What would you suggest we do then Gyles?" The king asked.

Gyles was silent for a moment and then said. "I believe we should send scouts out to find out where exactly this Vulture King is, or if he still carries or claims to be the Vulture king come again. Once we have found out where the bastard is I say we send a small force of men to burn him and his men out and then we drag them back to Yronwood for trial and fair execution."

"A noble suggestion my lord," Lord Fowler began. "But how do we know that that is not what this bandit king wants? He might wish for a party be led out by one of us, and then that is when he will fall upon us with the aid of the smallfolk if we are not careful."

Prince Edgar spoke then. "What reason would the smallfolk have for joining this felon? We have given them peace and plenty, this man only promises to cause them trouble to succeed. Besides he is raiding the Stormlands as well. Let the Martells and the Westerosi deal with him I say."

The king was silent and then he eventually spoke, and his voice sounded ominous. "We shall not let this bandit be he the one claiming to be the Vulture King, or some other common outlaw get away with causing trouble in Dorne. We are not the Martells that we would let the smallfolk and the lords of Dorne suffer needlessly. We have worked hard for peace, we shall work even harder to maintain it. Gyles send word to Lord Blackmont and tell him that he is to send men out to aid those at the Roost, whichever men they find from this group of bandits they are to question and then they are to go and fine the Vulture King or whoever their leader is. We shall deal with this problem and we shall deal with it quickly."

King Aerion Targaryen, King of Volantis

Essos had become a cauldron of tension and barbed words between the various free cities. The peace that had been reached in Westeros had made it so that those on the western coast of the continent who had been heavily invested in continuing the wars over in his former home now had to come back to their own problems and face up to them. Aerion had found that many of the western free cities were now lacking in strength and morale and money, having put a lot of money on the tension in Westeros going on for much longer, and there had been times since Maelys Blackfyre's death that Aerion had questioned sending the lad's bastard son Rhaegon to the north, there were times when he feared that some oaf in Lys or Tyrosh would give Daemon Stark and offer he couldn't refuse or that his wife would demand he not refuse and Westeros would be plagued by war once more.

Then there were times when he thought that sending the boy to Winterfell was perhaps one of the smartest things he had done since becoming king. For one thing it had prevented the Golden Company from trying to rally behind him once more, as they had been tempted to do he knew from the words that that fool Strickland had said to him following the company'[s retreat. Thankfully Strickland was dead and the company had moved on from Tyrosh and now served as a sort of guard for Volantis, led by Prince Jonnel Stark the black wolf as he was called. The man was a fierce fighter, Aerion had come back from the sparring yard with many a bruise form their sparring sessions, and he was an even better politician with a keen eye for where the company would be needed and where they would not be needed. It was he who had decided that they would not be needed in Westeros for some time, and that Essos would be the melting pot for their glory. His men had grumbled but had not argued, it was hard to argue with someone who had a blood big black direwolf at his side, Aerion had remembered thinking darkly.

Of course with the company operating from within Volantis, that had meant that they had become his responsibility and he was now responsible for paying them and seeing to their upkeep and whilst it was nice to have a professional group of soldiers there patrolling the streets and ensuring peace was kept in Volantis, their pay was beginning to take a toll on the crown's finances. Aerion was beginning to think that some war in Essos would not be a bad thing, and with the way Meeren and Yunkai were bickering with one another it was like to be happening at some point soon. The slaver cities were lessening in power, there had been so many reports of slave reports coming from that region that Aerion was convinced that at least one would be successful and then he would need to consider the issue of slaves in Volantis. An issue he considered very dangerous, he needed to keep the nobility happy but he also needed to assuage his own conscience, at some point he would need to deal with that issue.

But for now he was content to stare out of the window and watch as his younger grandchildren and his two great grandchildren played out in the waterside. The sound of their splashing and yells of happiness brought a smile to his face, and helped to null some of the pain he still felt about Shiera's death. Shiera, the woman who had brought him back from madness and made him sane, who had given him everything he had never thought to have, she had been his rock, the thing he held the most dear along with his children and their families, and now she was gone. Dead of old age, the healers said, a fever or just weakness had taken her, and there was emptiness in his heart now. Still at least their children, those who remained were doing her proud, his two remaining sons Aeron and Jaehaeron were fierce fighters and had children of their own and then there was his heir, Gaemon, a lad any man would be proud to call his grandson and heir, a smart lad with a skill for politics and a good fighter, good with a bow, mace and sword, deadly in the training yard and even more so out in the field. He would make a very good king. And that he had a son of his own by his wife, Moray Boyar, was something that made Aerion safe in the knowledge that the kingdom was secure.

His heart ached though for the brother he had lost to tragedy and foolishness, his brother Egg had died from the fire at the tragedy of Dragonsville supposedly trying to bring dragons back. He knew things between him and his brother had always been tense, because of the fool Aerion had been as a youth and because Aegon knew how to hold a grudge, and that was one of the few things in his life that he truly regretted, the fact that whilst he had been able to make up with his sisters and with Aemon and Daeron before their deaths, he had never been able to make things right with Egg, and he was convinced such a thing would haunt him till he himself died. He sighed, well there was nothing he could do about it now, his brother was dead, his sons dead, Aerion's great nephew Aerys sat the iron throne now, and Aerion hoped that the boy could make the peace that they had all strove for work and last for many years to come, it was in his hands now. His, Daemon Stark's and Aerion's though soon enough it would be in Gaemon's hands. The sound of the door opening brought Aerion out of his reverie, and he asked for who it was and got the response. "It's Gaemon and Jaehaeron grandfather." His grandson Gaemon said.

"Good, come close you two have things I must speak with you of." Aerion rasped. His son and grandson came close by and they looked so much like each other it nearly took his breath away. Taking a sip of water and then swallowing, Aerion looked back at the pools where his descendants played and said. "How goes things in court today Gaemon?"

His grandson laughed slightly and said. "The same old, same old grandfather. Maegyr wants more money for his industry, and Boyar wants more for his shops and bakeries. They squabble like little girls over a doll and do not see that the solution to their problems lies right before them."

"And what is that solution Gaemon?" Aerion asks.

His grandson is silent for a moment before replying. "Their goals are the same, it would make more sense for them to merge together, and present their case as one single front to the throne before they consider asking for more money."

Aerion nodded and then asked. "But will they do that?"

His grandson shook his head and then said. "No grandfather they will not. For Maegyr and Boyar have always been enemies and are too stubborn to admit that they share common goals, they will need to be guided to that conclusion and shown that their goals will not harm one another nor damage their pride."

Jaehaeron snorted then. "Whoever can do that deserves an award and recognition as a saint and a more patient man then me."

"That would not be hard nuncle, I could have sworn you were about to take out Boyar when he kept complaining." Gaemon jested with his uncle."

"All well and good, but what I want to know is has there been any more word about the three daughters and what they have been doing?" Aerion asked.

Gaemon was instantly serious once more. "Our men in the docks report that the sailors coming in from the east are saying that the Yunkish have met the Three Daughters demand for ships and men and are sailing them round the grief as we speak, aiming to burn our ships at anchor in time for the three daughters to invade whilst we fight the Yunkishmen on ground."

Aerion sighed. "So they have played their hand then. Very well Jaehaeron, you will lead the fleet out to deal with the Yunkishmen, burn their ships to the ground. Use wildfire if you need, to leave none of their ships to cause us trouble. And Gaemon oversee the defences of the city, it will take them time, but eventually the three daughters will come calling and we must be ready to meet them, and beat them."