A/N: Next chapter will be the start of a battle arc. Thanks to Ascalon451 on SB for betaing this chapter!
Chapter XXIII: Questioning Motives
1 BC
Secret Location
The following day after the gruesome execution of Rhodry Qogyle by his own nephew, his corpse was displayed in full view of all who passed by the gates to Sandstone Keep, and all who gazed upon it saw the headless corpse tied to a wooden post, a sign hung on the neck which said: "Rhodry Qorgyle the Condemned."
From the mouths of town criers the news spread: "For the crimes of familial abuse, kinslaying, bribery, blackmail, manslaughter and deception, Arin Rada had personally executed Rhodry by smashing his skull to pieces."
It was the absolute worst crime for any and all in Westeros to commit, and Arin had broken one of the greatest taboos and marred his name in blood for all eternity. Not even the Dornish would endorse the terrible practice of kinslaying.
Rumours however persisted in speaking a common message: "Rhodry had lost himself to greed, petty jealousy and spite, envying the prosperity of his family while he endured constant humiliation, abuse and jeering from his in-laws. Not only did he abuse his own family, he even went as far as to slaughter all his in-laws to attain vengeance and total power over Sandstone. As such, Arin Rada did only what had to be done, to prevent him from causing further harm to anyone else."
The people of Sandstone were not spared his ministrations; criminals were subject to brutal torture and their corpses put on full display, and any and all who spoke out against his harsh and oppressive policies were never seen or heard from again.
From a logical perspective, it could be said that this was done because Arin was left with no other recourse, and that although Arin was certainly incensed at Rhodry's inhumanity, he did the right thing by ending his madness.
Others did not see it his way, and in a small secret meeting room obscured to all but those in the know, several nobles gathered within.
"My brothers and sisters," The leader began with solemnity, "This meeting is convened because we now face a threat far greater than the invading Reachmen, a threat far closer to home: Arin Rada."
Many subtle nods were made by the nobles as the leader continued.
"It is clear that this… Black Fox, this monster, this archdemon, knows no limits - he knows not the word 'taboo'. He amply demonstrated this countless times, but his execution of his own uncle is the final straw. We will not sit idly by and accept defeat as this monster destroys our way of life, our claims to glory! We sat idly by when House Martell and all its loyal houses went extinct! We sat idly by when all Eastern Dorne fell under the Black Fox's rule and the Torrentine fell to the Reachmen! Yet, I must bid all of you to bide your time."
There was some disgruntlement among the gathered audience.
"I know you dislike waiting, eager to stop this menace in its tracks, but as much as I despise admitting this we know that without Arin Rada, we have no chance of driving back the Reachmen. Dorne is independent and always shall be, and we shall bow and scrape to neither Targaryen lapdog nor foreign conqueror!"
"Hear, hear!" The audience chanted with smiles and vigour.
"And so, I propose this plan: We wait out the battle, and once the Reachmen are driven back Arin will surely call for a council to organise the appointment of new nobles to their positions. On that day, we shall spring a trap for both him and his inner council, and once we cut the head off the snake, the unity of his men shall crumble like water on a rock! Dorne may no longer be united, but at least we shall preserve our independence!"
"Hoorah!" The nobles cheered.
Once the cheers died down, one of the nobles posed a question to the speaker, "But My Lord, why do you sound certain of the Reachmen's defeat?"
The leader inwardly resisted the urge to sigh heavily before answering, "Against a monster like Arin Rada, does King Mern IX Gardener have any chance?"
The one who asked could not answer, shrinking under the piercing, hurtful gazes of all others present as he awkwardly retreated to the rear.
"That will be all for now," The leader declared, "We shall convene again on a future date to discuss our plan of taking down the Black Fox."
As everyone filtered out of the meeting venue, however, no one noticed the same noble who posed the foolish question discreetly eyeing the noble leader with a sharp gaze, like a hawk's eyes. As he left, he walked briskly with a hidden haste in his step, indiscernible to the ordinary eye.
Once he reached a certain junction, he took a sudden turn into an alleyway followed by several more turns before entering through the backdoor of a house. Once inside, the spy saluted his superior who acknowledged him with a nod.
"Report."
"Aye ma'am, I've compiled a list of names who have attended the meeting," The spy reported crisply, "They plan to betray His Lordship once things have settled down in Dorne."
The spy passed Sainalia a piece of paper from the folds of his cloak, and as Sainalia read the names listed, she instantly frowned heavily and exhaled heavily through her nose.
"Thank you for your report," Sainalia said, "Mingle further with the collaborators and keep me updated on any changes to their plans."
"Aye, ma'am," The Spy saluted.
Sainalia nodded, "You're dismissed."
As the spy left, Sainalia reclined in her chair, staring out the window with a palpable sense of disappointment.
"We are ourselves our greatest enemy… and snakes poison each other as much as their prey."
IIOII
Eyarha Plains
The Reachmen Expeditionary Force wasted no time in its forced march towards the province of Eyarha. This time, however, they now had another reason for their haste to dispatch Arin Rada for good, for Arin Rada had committed the taboo of kinslaying.
Evidence of his misdeeds was revealed to the Dornish public, and while Arin's act of kinslaying permanently muddied his name in the eyes of all, no one could truly protest his killing of Rhodry Qorgyle. Even then, a kinslayer was looked upon poorly in Westeros, and the Reachmen now had another casus belli in their war against Dorne.
Having reached the Eyarha Plains a full day early, the Reachmen camped for the night, exhausted horses and levies grateful to finally rest their aching legs and quench their thirst. Gathering in the command tent, King Mern and his war council convened for the final time before tomorrow's battle.
"To think that Arin would actually break one of the most ancient and respected taboos of Westeros… Now I am convinced Arin is a demon sent to punish all of Dorne for its wrongdoings," Mern commented with a low tone of disgust, "But demons cannot neither live nor rule forever."
"If we kill Arin, we may gain the support of the Red Mountain and Desert Dornish against the Greenblood Dornish to the east," Brandyll added, nodding with a severe frown, "Arin's kinslaying will earn him few friends among the western Dornish, even on the impossible chance he defeats us."
"And yet for some inexplicable reason, even if they in turn become more fearful of Arin, the Greenblood Dornish will never turn on him," Mern stated darkly, grimacing as he stared at the map of Dorne like it was a repugnant thing, "Though it does make sense in a hugely twisted way; in House Rada's heartlands, they enjoy riches and security beyond their wildest dreams, and every year since Arin succeeded his father as Lord of House Rada, there has been a new invention or a strengthening of governmental institutions which further enhanced his absolute power over the minor Houses, or so the story goes. Furthermore, the Greenblood Dornish are descendants of the Rhoynar who themselves were persecuted by House Martell since the time of the Red Princes, so they hold fanatical loyalty to him for the end of House Martell's rule."
"But the people had converted to worship of the Seven since the Red Princes, so why is it that they owe their loyalty to Udohanism, now?" Questioned Brandyll.
"It is what the Udohanists do for the less fortunate that has won their hearts," Mern answered, "According to rumours and official sources, Udohanist temples created soup kitchens distributing free food rations to the poor and hungry, and offer free medical treatment to the sick and ailing, sometimes even free education to willing children and adults. In exchange, House Rada funds their charity, which is far more than what the Faith has ever done for its own flock."
"But would that not pose the risk of making the Udohanist faith more powerful than House Rada?" Brandyll questioned, "I do not claim to understand how organised religions work, but by providing them more coin, would they not eventually pocket it for themselves when some of their members grow greedy?"
"I think we all know what kind of person Arin Rada is by now," Mern pointed out.
Brandyll and all the other gathered nobles spoke nothing to that; it would be no surprise if he did the same to the Faith of the Seven as he did to the noble houses he exterminated.
"So that means the Udohanist faith is under his complete control," Brandyll echoed the thoughts of everyone in the command tent, "Then again, everything under his rule is under his complete control."
"He has to be in total control, at least for a full decade before he can afford to relax his policies," Mern affirmed, "I have to give it to him, though; the cunning fox achieved in weeks what would take lions, vipers, stags and eagles years or even decades to achieve."
"You cannot possibly be accommodating of this kinslayer, Your Grace!?" A noble gasped, his face the epitome of revulsion.
"Of course not, how can I abide this epitome of cruelty?" Mern retorted, chastening the nobleman yet eliciting subtle expressions of relief from the gathered commanders, "Nevertheless, time is against us; our scouts already report that the Targaryens, having consolidated their rule over the Riverlands and the Iron Islands, are now moving towards the Vale. It will not be long before they turn their greed towards the Westerlands and then us."
The grim reminder of the Targaryen menace served to strengthen the resolve of the gathered Reachmen; the thousands of troops incinerated by their dragons was ample reminder of their unassailable strength, and the Burning of Harrenhal [1] showed the inadequacy of legendary stonework against their molten breath as hot as the sun itself.
Though between the Targaryens and Arin Rada, defeat at the hands of the latter was the absolute worst of the two in their minds.
"Now, where do you believe we should do battle with Arin, Brandyll?" Asked Mern.
"It will be at the Eyarha Plains, where we can unleash the power of our cavalry," Brandyll answered, "Naturally, we must face their famed chariots as well, and that is why our own cavalry will be important; if we can lure them into pincer movements, we can whittle them down to more manageable numbers. We must also make use of the scorpions [2] we looted from some of the Dornish armouries we found, so we can pick off their horsemen and siege engines. Our largest challenge will be the fact that we barely fought Arin's armies, and thus we are in the blind as to their style of tactics aside from that one time with Theo Tyrell's vanguard."
"While I dislike going in blind myself, we've come too far and spilt too much blood to back out now," Mern declared softly, "Whatever comes our way, we weather and push on like a mountain against a tempest."
"Like a verdant forest nourished by green thumbs," Brandyll intoned.
"That will be all for now," Mern concluded, "All of you are dismissed. Brandyll, you stay."
"As you command, Sire," The nobles echoed, filtering out of the tent one by one.
Once Mern and Brandyll were alone in the command tent, Mern was the first to break the silence.
"Something about this does not feel right," He muttered.
As if to answer Brandyll's confusion, Mern proceeded to say, "It just does not feel right, Arin personally taking the cudgel to his uncle's head. I mean, he could have simply chosen to have someone else be Rhodry's executioner to spare himself the stain of kinslaying, so why did he do this? What could possibly motivate him to tarnish his own name?"
And Brandyll immediately understood what Mern's words meant.
"Your Grace, do you mean to say Arin is plotting something?" He inquired.
Mern simply sighed, lips thinning into a tight frown, "It's a certainty at this point; despite his admittedly brutal manner of dispatching Theo and his commanders, we have to admit they treated our dead far better than the dead of their own countrymen; Rhodry and his lackeys were mutilated, for example, while Theo and our comrades were returned with their bodies intact."
"But why? Are we not Dorne's ancestral enemy?" Brandyll questioned, "Dornishmen would consider Reachmen and Stormlanders their natural enemies due to our shared history of bloody warfare, yet Arin seems to regard his own countrymen as the real enemy instead."
"You are right, Brandyll," Mern nodded, "It is clear his true enemy is not from outside Dorne, but within. Think, why else would he exterminate countless Dornish houses whose histories stretch back to the time of Nymeria's Conquest? Or rather, why would he need to go as far as to tell the entire world of what he had done?"
Brandyll felt his hand clasp his mouth in a mixture of confusion and fear, sweat dripping down his cheek.
"...You believe he is laying a trap for his own countrymen?" He questioned.
Mern's look of resigned acceptance gave him the answer he was looking for, and Brandyll heaved a heavy sigh.
"I suppose in a way, it does make sense; our worst enemies are always those coming from our own side," Brandyll nodded, "And yet he went about it in a very… how do I say this? A very dramatic way? As if he needs to make theatrics for the whole spectacle?"
"Most likely, that is the exact reason why," Mern nodded sagely, "Although it seems the rumours of Rhodry being a most terrible father and husband are true, as is his history with his in-laws."
"I admit at first, I was tempted to treat it as a hoax, lies spread by Arin's people to paint his own uncle in a darker light, though I still question if Rhodry truly faced such abuse at his home if the story is to be believed," Brandyll put forth, "Nevertheless, at least House Qorgyle is no longer a threat, even if it is not in the way we imagined it would be."
"After what happened to Arin's goodaunt and cousins, no one will truly defend Rhodry, even if they denounce Arin's response," Mern acknowledged, "And all of House Qorgyle's talented people died under Rhodry's misguided rule, so they will look to House Rada as the only other possible option, like it or otherwise."
"Even so, I cannot imagine the remaining Dornish nobles and the smallfolk will just remain idle and accept this; villain or not, Rhodry was still Arin's uncle, and not even a house as craven as the Martells ever willingly endorsed kinslaying," Brandyll stated, a calm mien concealing his conflicting thoughts.
"Then I suppose time will tell what the true purpose of his kinslaying is," Mern concluded, "Tell the men to get some rest; we march at dawn."
"As you command, Your Grace," Brandyll bowed.
[1] Burning of Harrenhal - As the name says, it is the burning of the massive castle complex in the Riverlands which served as capital of the Ironborn Hoare Realm. Too proud, arrogant and defiant to bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen, the conqueror burned the castle atop Balerion in response, making an example of House Hoare as stone melted under the dragon's fiery breath.
It served to break the backbone of Ironborn unity and power as they fractured and fled to their home in the Iron Islands, which the Targaryen assaulted after destroying the entirety of their naval power in several battles.
[2] House Rada's rapid growth in power under Arin's leadership led to a scare among all Dornish noble houses, forcing them to bolster their own militaries and increase their stockpiles of equipment in preparation for the inevitable conflict with this upstart house, which naturally included siege equipment like scorpions.