A/N: I hope you like the upcoming dialogue with House Yronwood.
Chapter XIX: Pride before the Fall, Part I
1 BC
Rhoyehom
The war for Eastern Dorne lasted four months, the lightning fast campaign against House Martell concluding with the extinction of the centuries-old house at the Battle of Sunspear. The campaign for Western Dorne was postponed for six months as House Rada consolidated its gains, filling vacancies and reorganising the legal systems in line with its code of law and reorganising its expanded military in preparation for the next battle.
Some stubborn idealists or loyalists who foolishly believed in Dornish might believed that even with the terrible setbacks suffered in the Red Mountains, they could rebound and drive them back; the Reachmen were used to their fertile breadbasket, they did not know the lethal dangers of the Dornish desert like they did.
And they, like all Dornish, fanatically believed in their right to independence, believing that the Reachmen were heretics and murderers of the highest order for daring to trespass, to conquer their lands.
Unfortunately, the Seven saw fit to cruelly dash their hopes.
Though the Red Mountains were dangerous terrain for large armies, the Reachmen trained hardy men used to war and their knights were far superior to Dornish cavalry. Their superior logistics ensured they were well-supplied, and while suffering initial losses in the early days of the war, the Reach had brilliant commanders who grew wiser to the Dornish way of warfare.
Not to say the Dornish did not have talented commanders of their own, but they were too used to raiding and harassing their enemies and lacked the equipment to defeat an enemy used to conventional warfare. Dornish supplies had also rapidly depleted once they could no longer steal from Reach supply caravans, leading to starvation and a precipitous drop in morale among their people.
Even worse, House Wyl, legendary for its wicked deeds in war and peace, was exterminated by the Reachmen army under King Mern Gardener IX, after an anonymous source tipped them off about the Boneway tunnels known only to the besieged, allowing them to set them on fire and smoke out the felons.
The Reachmen had no mercy, and though oft considered a heinous act, a special exception was made as every single member of House Wyl - man, woman and child - was slaughtered to the last.
House Dayne soon followed, and House Yronwood was subdued after a fifteen-day siege that saw their ancestral home severely damaged and at least two of its sons dead. There was terrible resentment on both sides, the result of grudges both old and new, but House Yronwood was beaten and no one could change that.
Following the aftermath of the Siege of Yronwood Castle, the remaining independent Dornish fell into an orgy of panic as the Desert Dornish quickly rallied their forces and made preparations for battle. They held even fewer troops and supplies and faced an enemy emboldened and experienced with fighting their kind, so their prospects were bleak, and yet they would fight nevertheless.
And part of those preparations involved sending a diplomat to the one man they loathed as a Targaryen lapdog: Arin Rada.
IIOII
A few months ago…
The war for Western Dorne raged on as Reachmen fought Dornish in brutal battle, settling grudges millennia in the making as men and women fought invaders street to street in a losing battle.
House Yronwood, seeing how badly their kinsmen were losing in the Red Mountains, sent one of its own to negotiate with Arin Rada and forge an alliance between their two houses. If it were months prior, they would have flatly refused the very notion on grounds of pride alone; King Yorick V of their house valiantly resisted Nymeria's armies during her war of conquest, slaying her lord husband Mors in combat before being defeated and sent to the Wall.
Now, SerYorick Yronwood, seventh of his name and heir to Lord Olyvar Yronwood, stood before Arin Rada in his court at the fortified town of Rhoyehom.
Yorick inwardly scoffed; to think this presumptive heir to the Rhoynar legacy would so willingly sell out his own pride as independent Dornish for being the lapdog of foreign conquerors, and for what? An alliance to save their own hides?
He tempered his boiling emotions; Arin Rada was a highly cunning man who used every trick in the book and outside to rise to where he was today, and now stood as powerful as all the Red Mountain houses combined.
Without this alliance, House Yronwood would be bereft of a powerful ally against their ancient enemy. Surely he understands this?
"Presenting His Lordship, Lord Arin Rada of Dorne!" The herald called out.
Arin Rada, conqueror of Eastern Dorne and the Stepstones, the pretender who ousted and extinguished House Martell, saviour of the Rhoynar among other titles. A young man ten-and-two years his junior.
A man whose eyes sent chilling shivers down his spine - eyes full of supreme confidence and paranoia.
"I bid you welcome to Rhoyehom, Ser Yorick," Arin greeted, "I take it this is no social call?"
Short and succinct, befitting a man of his position, a temperament Yorick grudgingly approved.
"I greet you, Lord Arin Rada, and you are quite right," Yorick greeted back, curtseying as per protocol, "I come to you with a request for an alliance of mutual aid between our two houses. I take it you know of the Reach invasion of our soil?"
"Who in Dorne has not heard of it?" Asked Arin, "Who in Dorne does not fear being defeated?"
"Then surely you understand the need for peace between our houses, Lord Rada?" Yorick questioned, "I, for one, do not wish to have to fight you while we face a… superior enemy."
He did not miss Arin's slight quirk of his lips at his hesitance, though Arin stayed quiet.
"In exchange for a non-aggression pact, House Yronwood is fully willing to resume trade between our lands and recognise your sovereignty as an independent Dornish Kingdom. All we ask is for you to intercede on our behalf to House Targaryen, and ask that he spare us and allow our independence."
Arin's eyes flashed with a different emotion as he listened, though they remained cold and stoic and betrayed little emotion. When Yorick VII finished his sentence, Arin began to speak.
"You know, when I hear you talk, I get the impression that House Yronwood believes itself capable of sustaining itself as an independent Kingdom, one that can resist House Targaryen to the ends of time. Honestly speaking, I know where you're coming from, and I get that you don't like selling out yourself, but I don't like having that kind of cheap pride."
Yorick felt his lips quivering in rage. How dare this boy…!
"You think I got to where I am without swallowing my pride, making compromises and hard decisions? You think I achieved my achievements without being flexible in every aspect of my life, without dragging my name through the mud and having everyone else pouring ridicule upon my very house?"
Arin's words struck sharply with Yorick, and looking into his eyes,Yorick instantly realised he was watching a blazing inferno, a terrifying light that shook him to the core. Doing his best to present his stoic mask, he took a sharp inhale as he collected himself and bowed before him.
"I apologise if I've offended you in some manner, Lord Arin," Yorick said, "As for our offer of alliance…?"
"Rejected," Arin flatly declared.
Yorick sighed heavily, nodding in defeat.
"I will, however, accept a pact of non-aggression and some trade agreements between our houses," Arin added, "It would not be good if you left empty-handed, no?"
Yorick felt himself smile in relief.
"I greatly appreciate your magnanimity, Lord Arin. House Yronwood thanks you."
IIOII
Houses Fowler and Manwoody had fallen. House Wyl had fallen. House Dayne had fallen.
So many Red Mountain Houses had fallen, and the Houses of the Torrentine were not spared. Save for a few minor houses, House Yronwood was now the only remaining major Red Mountain House that still stood, and it would not be long before the Reachmen turned their rage on them.
The initial skirmishes were a disaster; the men of Yronwood showed terrible inexperience, and the last time they fought the Reachmen was easily two decades ago. It was not long before the Reach army was rapidly closing the distance, and Ser Yorick VII quickly visited Rhoyehom again in a vain attempt to seal an alliance between their two houses.
This time Arin was far more receptive to him, seeing how desperate he was.
"Please understand, the moment we fall, you and the Desert Dornish are next," Yorick half-pleaded, "Surely you cannot ignore this threat clear as day?"
"I cannot," Arin admitted.
"So you agree, then?" Asked Yorick, fighting hard to keep a smile off his face.
"On conditions," Arin stated, "You must not only submit to my authority, you must also take up the Rhoynar ways and agree to respect the Udohanist religion. You must also agree to rehash your laws entirely according to the Rada code of law, and ruthlessly eliminate any and all who would oppose such a change. Failure to perform any one of these conditions is grounds for me to refuse."
Again Yorick had his hopes dashed in the cruellest way possible. Again, Arin Rada gave them an offer their pride would never allow them to accept.
"Why? Why must you ask us to do this?" Yorick questioned, his voice on the verge of sounding broken.
"Because the last time Nymeria allowed your people to keep to their ways, House Wyl chose to be a fucking parasite, and it started a chain of events that led to the downfall of the Rhoynar and caused Dorne to continue to be stuck in its ways for centuries more," Arin answered flatly, "I do not trust any noble who isn't willing to shed their old ways in exchange for their survival, and I despise the old order. That's why I'm doing this to you, Yorick, and your family. That's why I will never trust House Yronwood until they shed their cheap, meaningless pride in exchange for their survival."
And it was in this moment that Yorick realised there was no compromising with Arin. No, it was his family who would never make such a compromise with Arin.
He himself could never bear to make such a compromise.
"What are we without our culture, our identity and our pride?" Yorick stated, more to himself than anyone else.
"Free, flexible, able to survive," Arin answered, his tone slightly more compassionate, "You're no use to anyone if you're dead."
And as much as Yorick hated to admit it, as much as he despised Arin's complete disregard for tradition, Arin was completely right.
"I take it you will not accept?" Arin asked.
Yorick took a deep breath and heaved a sigh, and the crestfallen expression he gave was an ample answer to Arin.
"Good day, Ser Yorick."
A broken and disappointed Yorick bowed to Arin and slowly trudged out of the throne room, his footsteps heavy with despair and his youthful vigour dissipating like the air. Arin felt nothing as he watched his retreating form.
When Yronwood Castle fell, Yorick was counted among the dead with his father and brother in what came to be known as the bloody Sack of Yronwood, and Arin simply nodded in acceptance of this fact.
"What a fucking waste… ka ni na, all these fucking nobles have no brain, I tell you."
Time to enact the next step of the plan.
"Sainalia," He called out.
"Yes, My Lord?" Asked the Spymistress.
"Summon the war council; we're declaring war on the Reach."
"As you command."
IIOII
House Rada mustered an army forty thousand strong in response to the Reach's conquest of Yronwood Castle, and for days they marched without rest to relieve the beleaguered Desert Dornish.
First to receive their aid was House Uller of Hellholt, who utterly resented House Rada as the murderers of their rightful liege lords. Though a house with a strong castle and access to the Brimstone river which irrigates its fertile land and acts as a canal to sea, they too lacked the numbers for a decisive engagement, and the Reachmen outnumbered their garrison five to one.
They would agree to a temporary alliance against the Reach but little more, and many believed they and their vassals were scheming to inconvenience House Rada in any way possible once the immediate threat passed.
Next and last of the greater Desert Dornish houses was House Qorgyle [1] of Sandstone, a town with little to name other than their famed material from which the town derives its name: Sandstone [2].
House Qorgyle had strong cavalry forces from its longstanding equestrian traditions, granting their heavy cavalry and horse archers increased speed over the Reach chargers, but the Reachmen, used to Dornish raiding tactics had easily baited the Dornish cavalry into a trap, slaughtering them wholesale and bereaving House Qorgyle of its one strength and leaving them trapped in the castle.
Rhodry Qorgyle, Lord of Sandstone, trembled where he stood upon the ramparts, his knees shaking and his forehead dripping with sweat. He looked with alarm as ladders lined the ramparts and men climbed up, eager to sate their blades with Dornish blood.
"D-Don't just stand there, get them off the walls!" Rhodry cried, drawing his own sword and killing some Reachmen levies eager to claim his head.
Throughout the town there was pandemonium as Smallfolk tried to take cover within their houses or crowd closer to the keep, where trebuchet fire was not as heavy and the stone walls provided stronger and better cover. Qorgyle men were being slaughtered in droves as the martial valour of the Reach proved superior to the Dornishmen, and the Reachmen more passionate in their thirst for vengeance. Yet the Dornishmen had far more to lose than their lives, and they fought with as much vigour and determination as their bodies would allow.
The Burning of Starfall, the Sack of Yronwood, the Razing of Wyl [3] among other atrocities galvanised the remaining independent Dornish into giving as good as they can give, for whatever good it would do.
"My Lord, we can't hold much longer!" A soldier cried, "We have to retreat to the keep!"
"Don't you dare run, we have to hold the walls!" Rhodry cried, his voice high and shaky, "Keep on fighting!"
"But My Lord-"
A boulder struck their position, and Rhodry Qorgyle was thrown off the walls and sent falling to the ground, the poor soldier crushed to a bloody pulp.
Bereft of their chain of command, captains desperately tried to rally their units to avoid annihilation, but packs of hungry Reachmen smelled this weakness and pounced upon their prey. One of the gates was even smashed down by a battering ram, and the forces of House Qorgyle were stretched even thinner.
For a moment, it seemed as if Sandstone was doomed to fall, its people subject to slaughter like the ill-fated House Wyl.
Then a horn sounded in the distance, and those who were on the walls had a good view of the dust clouds stirring in the distance. Those locked in combat were too busy trying to hack their opponents apart, but those on the keep's ramparts had the luxury of time.
One of the lookouts, taking out a Myrish Far-Eye - what Arin Rada called a 'telescope' - looked upon the encroaching army, and the moment he saw the flag of a silver fox he beamed with delight.
"It's House Rada! House Rada's come to help us!"
The arrival of House Rada's armies caused a dynamic shift in the battlefield; where once Sandstone was on the verge of falling, now the Reachmen had to divert over half their strength to intercepting the new arrivals. For the defenders it was a miracle, and they now fought to drive back whatever Reachmen remained on the walls.
A single detachment rushed towards the walls of Sandstone, through the smashed-open gate as cavalry ran down Reachmen levies and knights from behind.
The chariots soon smashed into the ranks of the Reachmen army, their cavalry and infantry following behind. They hastily assumed formation and crashed into the shieldwalls of the chivalrous Reachmen, scorpions killing vaunted knights and Tucosar Fire immolating scores more troops.
Tired from the earlier battle, they quickly beat a hasty retreat, and the men of House Qorgyle soon celebrated their victory, and the men of House Rada entered to the adulations of the citizenry. At the helm was none other than Arin Rada, accompanied by both Franklyn Doratarn and Huang Xue, and their fame preceded them.
Yet when Rhodry Qorgyle heard who was leading the troops, he fought to suppress a grimace at his coming, and tried his hardest to adopt his brightest smile as he welcomed him into the keep.
"My gracious thanks for your coming, dear nephew!" He exclaimed with arms open, "Truly, your coming must be the miracle of the Se-I mean the Mother Rhoyne herself!"
"I suppose," Arin shrugged, shaking Rhodry's hand, "Shall we head inside and talk more?"
"Of course, whatever my dear nephew wants!" Rhodry eagerly answered, "How is my brother, by the way?"
"Doing good," Arin said, "He loves having a lot less work to do nowadays."
"Ha! I knew he was always a very responsible man, but everyone does want a break every so often," Rhodry put forth.
As they engaged in seemingly mundane banter the rest of House Rada's armies made camp in the town barracks and outside the city, getting to know their comrades better and get a feel of the town's intricacies; the layout, the strongpoints and weakpoints and notable persons of interest.
Arin noticed that throughout their conversation, not once did Rhodry talk about the impending Reachmen invasion, or of Arin's plans and interests for Dorne as a whole, simply talking about useless, mundane things that were better left for more peaceful circumstances.
He narrowed his eyes at his own uncle Rhodry Qorgyle, once Rhodry Rada, whenever Rhodry was not looking at him.
[1] House Qorgyle - Founded by Andal adventurers, House Qorgyle has a history spanning three millennia, a considerably ancient house from long before Nymeria's Conquest. It was first founded when the only heiress to its predecessor, Aimelia of House Qanorn, came under siege from duplicitous vassals who sought to keep her as a puppet to control from the shadows. This came at a time when the ruling Lord and his three sons perished under mysterious circumstances.
At the time, the founder of his House, Ser Gesmund Qorgyle, was more a mercenary leader than a proper knight due to living in poverty and his mercenary band, the Gilded Scorpions, was taking shelter in the town of Sandstone to resupply and rest before travelling in search of work.
They were little more than three thousand sons of the desert, yet they were put to the test when Lady Aimelia desperately sought protection after surviving several assassination attempts.
Putting their skills to work, they killed and defeated the traitorous vassals of House Qanorn, and having fallen in love, Gesmund and Aimelia married, and House Qanorn's holdings became House Qorgyle's holdings.
[2] Sandstone - Famous for holding rich deposits of high-quality sandstone, the town itself is not particularly prosperous or wealthy and primarily makes its living from sandstone mining, horse-breeding and pottery.
At the time of Aegon's Conquest, its highest population count was ten thousand, and was protected by a handful of forts which were quickly overwhelmed by the invading Reachmen.
[3] The Three Calamities - What the Burning of Starfall, the Sack of Yronwood, the Razing of Wyl are referred to among the Red Mountain Dornish, considering the speed and force with which the three fortresses fell and the brutality that followed. Though most villages and towns were spared, the Reachmen reserved special hatred for the old ruling houses who most often raided their borders, House Wyl above all.
It is why no one uttered a pittance of pity for House Wyl, whose sins are legion. House Dayne, on the other hand, was just an unfortunate casualty of self-defense borne from an unwillingness to surrender. House Yronwood was the only one of these three houses among several to survive, the survivors taken as political captives or propped up as puppets.