Ser Maekar's Pavilion

A man arrives at Ser Maekar's tent. He wears a blue and white livery with the Florent fox embroidered onto his doublet. The man's face and clothing are dirty and spattered with blood.

The Florent messenger drank like a man dying of thirst. His throat moved frantically as he swallowed. Water dripped down his chin as he finally looked up at the Targaryen bastard.

"The Faith Militant are marching on Cider Hall, my lord. Lord Florent...Lord Florent and his scouts were killed, my lord. We tried to send ravens, but they were shot from the sky. The other scouts were most like killed too. It's likely they are besieging the Fossoways now, my lord."

"Ser Duncan commands Brightwater," the scout replied. "He's heir to Brightwater. He has two hundred foot, and a hundred archers. There's the rest of the Brightwater men, which was marching up the Roseroad to meet you, my lord, with Lord Florent's second son, Ser Steffon. But I ain't seen them in a while. They was five hundred foot, mayhaps, and archers and two hundred cavalry. Maybe a hundred archers."

"I don't know his name. Some knight with a star on his surcoat." The man shrugged. "It ain't that Ser Hector. I know him. Seen him before. I don't know this man. He had...hundreds, my lord. At least five or six hundred men, mayhaps more. Lots of knights though. Saw a siege tower too, and a ram."

A terrific roar was heard from above as Tyraxes came into land, stopping just short of the two men and Cyrax. Tyraxed bristled in the presence of the much much larger dragon.

Rhaena dismounted Tyraxes with an elegant jump, landing softly on her feet and walking the short distance to where her brother and the messenger were standing, "good evening, brother," Rhaena greeted, and nodded at the other man present, "something amiss?"

"The Warrior's sons march on Cider Hall, several hundred strong. I cannot march south enough quickly enough to head them off, but with luck Lord Fossoway can hold his gates long enough for me to arrive to break their siege," he said, thoughtfully. "I will take fifteen hundred men, and leave the remainder under Ser Anders' command here," he added, referring to Ser Anders Rowan, the heir to Goldengrove and one of the more prominent men in the host. Though young, Ser Anders had been covering himself in glory on the battlefield while still demonstrating that he could maintain the level-head required to lead with prudence.

"I will ask that you remain here as well, I would not strip this army of both of its dragons. I do not expect an attack this far north, but if the enemy were to somehow defy my expectations there must be a dragon here to protect the rest of our troops," he said to his sister, with a smile. He knew she would not be pleased to remain behind, but he also knew that she was the most level-headed of King Maegor's daughters and would understand his reasoning.

Maekar met her gaze evenly, and a small smile touched the corner of his mouth. "I imagined you might make the request, and may of course return to the capital. A letter arrived yesterday, saying that the Tyroshi ambassador would be arriving soon, I imagine you will just make the feast that your mother is throwing in his honor," he said, taking one of her hands and plucking a large ring off her thumb.

"It was this! I've been looking for this for days!" he exclaimed. It went back to a game they had played when Rhaena was a child, where they would each take turns stealing a small token from the other, and then trying to guess what had been taken. It was not something they did often anymore, but he'd noticed the ring missing one morning after her departure and had not made the connection.

He laughed for a moment, and then sobered, meeting her gaze again. "Do not tarry too long, though, I do not wish the army to be dragonless for any longer than is necessary."

Maekar laughed. "More men and a dragon or two would be nice, but don't tell the King that, you know what he'd say." Maekar adopted a stern and angry visage, and lowered his voice an octave or two. "If you can't win a war with two dragons and a few thousand men, what use are you," he said angrily, and then chuckled a little to himself and winked at his sister.

"Tell the King that the Faith has moved against Cider Hall, but I expect to dispatch them there without difficulty. Ask him if he wishes me to move south from there, perhaps I'll move south and west on the way back, and stop at the holdfasts I find there. Some of those lords and Knights are loyal to the High Septon, but perhaps a Cyrax at their doorstep will persuade them otherwise."

Maekar nodded. "At Tumbleton; I will swing west after I raise the siege at Cider Hall, and then loop back north east to the Mander, you and Ser Anders should be able to reach the Tumbleton crossing in time to join with the rest of my men," he said. "Fly safely, Rhaena," added, smiling again at her.