A marriage with House Tully would certainly increase House Tyrell’s influence in the Seven Kingdoms and even solidify their control over the Reach but in peacetime, such benefits were no more than icing on the cake.

Even Aegor, a self-proclaimed outsider to noble politics, could see that using Margaery’s one and only marriage opportunity for such a marginal gain was hardly worth it.

Since Margaery was determined to become queen, if she failed to seduce the king, she would undoubtedly set her sights on the prince instead.

Poor Edmure. Who knows when he’ll finally settle his marriage?

Then again, as the future Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, even if he had no wife, it wasn’t as if he would be lacking in lovers or bedmates. Why was he, a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch, wasting time worrying about the Tullys’ marriage prospects?

The thought of the Night’s Watch made his chest tighten with sudden, inexplicable anger.

His brothers in black were fighting for their lives against wildlings and the true terrors beyond the Wall, while these southern nobles treated a military encampment before the Bloody Gate as nothing more than a grand matchmaking event. While soldiers bled and died at the most dangerous pass in Westeros, these lords and ladies were dividing up power and securing their futures.

How absurd. What a rotten feudal world.

—

The unprovoked surge of rage passed as quickly as it had come, leaving Aegor unsettled by the strength of his own emotions.

Had he spent so long pretending to be a loyal Night’s Watchman that he had begun to believe it?

He scoffed at himself and shook off the thought.

“In the end, everyone wants to climb higher but no one ever truly gets what they want. These alliances are a tangled mess.”

Buckwell, oblivious to Aegor’s brief turmoil, sighed as he gazed at the endless rows of tents.

“Yes, a mess indeed. But not everyone is aiming for a grand match. I only spoke of nobles who outrank my own House Buckwell, ambitious men seeking to rise higher. But the Seven Kingdoms are not just made up of great lords. Countless landed knights, minor lords, and smallfolk thrive in their own circles. In fact, I know of at least two marriages that were arranged right here in this camp before the first battle had even begun.”

“Congratulations to them, then,” Aegor said absently, though he found he no longer cared enough to ask which houses were involved. Instead, he changed the subject. “Today’s siege was quite the spectacle, but unfortunately, the defenders had the upper hand. What is the king’s next move? I know he plans to eliminate the rebel strongholds outside the Vale, but we can’t just sit here waiting for the Bloody Gate to open on its own, can we?”

—

Seeing other noble families securing alliances while his own son was stationed at the Wall, battling the horrors of the North, Ser Buckwell had little desire to continue discussing marriage. He welcomed the shift in conversation.

“Of course not. The city beyond the Bloody Gate is not some isolated stronghold, it is the Vale of Arryn, home to hundreds of thousands of people. If we waste time, the rebels inside can hold out indefinitely. We are the ones on a deadline. If we do not breach the gate until the Eyrie itself runs out of food and surrenders, then we’ve already lost. We need to rescue those who need rescuing. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

The old knight’s words were sharp and clear.

“No one expected the rebels to completely block the gate,” he continued. “The Bloody Gate is a narrow choke point, scaling the walls with ladders would be a bloodbath. So, at the war council, we started throwing out ideas. Some suggested tunneling through the collapsed gatehouse to remove the rubble. Others proposed building a ramp up to the walls so infantry could charge in directly. And then, of course, there were the truly outrageous ones, someone even suggested digging through the cliffs beside the Bloody Gate to carve a new passage into the Vale.”

He smirked. “You’re a Night’s Watchman, trained in defending fortifications. Tell me, do any of these ideas sound remotely feasible?”

Aegor had never defended a city in his life, but that didn’t stop him from recognizing flawed strategies.

“If the defenders filled the entrance with rubble, all they have to do is pour a few barrels of oil down the passage and set it alight. Anyone inside suffocates instantly.”

He shook his head.

“As for ramps and tunnels… my lord, you just said that we are the ones on a time limit. Do we really have the time to construct something like that?”

“Exactly. Those are the key problems,” Buckwell agreed. “None of these ideas are particularly practical but they were proposed at the war council. So, while we can discuss them freely here, best keep such opinions to yourself around the commanders. Understood?”

“Military secrets. Understood.”

—

As they continued toward the camps of the royal army and the lords of the Crownlands, it became evident that an attack would not be launched today.

Large numbers of soldiers were returning to their barracks, confirming that the command had decided to halt the assault for now.

After exchanging farewells, Aegor and Buckwell parted ways, each returning to their own tent.

—

The next morning, in the aftermath of the failed siege, more than 30,000 of the 80,000 troops stationed outside the Bloody Gate were deployed across the Vale’s outer regions. Their mission: capturing the exposed castles and keeps outside the valley.

The remaining forces were divided into six groups, each aligned with its respective great house and kingdom. These divisions would take turns holding defensive positions and launching attacks.

The reasoning behind this strategy was obvious:

By sealing the Bloody Gate, the rebels had also sealed themselves inside. This prevented them from launching any surprise raids outside the valley. Under such conditions, keeping the entire royalist army on high alert at all times would be an enormous drain on resources. Worse, it would lead to fatigue and eventual exhaustion.

Instead of exhausting the entire force at once, a rotation system was put in place.

Whichever group was assigned to active duty on a given day would handle both camp defense and attacks against the gate, more symbolic than genuine assaults, meant to keep pressure on the enemy.

On the surface, it appeared to be a battle of attrition.

But the question remained, what if the rebels inside the valley were also rotating their forces? If they rested while the royalists rested, fought only when they needed to, and preserved their strength…

That left only one possibility.

Robert Baratheon wasn’t planning to starve the rebels into submission.

He intended to force their surrender by systematically capturing every remaining stronghold in the valley, until the rebels had nowhere left to run.

After two more failed attempts to scale the walls, resulting in hundreds of casualties and no progress, the war to quell the rebellion fell into a tactical stalemate. Both the attackers and defenders found themselves in an awkward impasse, neither side able to advance nor willing to retreat.

The nobles of the so-called Alliance of Righteous had launched their revolt with the hope that “righteousness” and the natural defenses of the Bloody Gate would be enough to drive out that madwoman, Lysa Arryn, and reclaim their autonomy. They had never expected Robert Baratheon to react with such explosive fury summoning the armies of the Six Kingdoms to crush his former allies without so much as an offer of negotiation.

As for Robert himself, he had been so supremely confident in his own military genius that he never doubted his ability to take the Bloody Gate by force. That was why he had called the lords of Westeros to witness his campaign expecting them to watch a swift and glorious victory.

He had never imagined the rebels in the Vale would be this stubborn.

—

For days, the two armies remained deadlocked, staring at one another across the Bloody Gate.

Eventually, it was the rebels who made the first concession.

They sent envoys to propose peace talks.

Their leader, Yohn Royce, was willing to admit to treason, abdicate his lordship in favor of his son, and take the black, all in exchange for a single condition: Lysa Arryn must leave the Vale, and Robert must spare the other noble houses from punishment.

It was a remarkably generous offer.

But Robert refused.

He demanded unconditional surrender. Any other terms would only be considered after the rebels laid down their arms.

—

Aegor understood Robert’s reasoning. Even in modern times, some nations held a strict policy of never negotiating with terrorists.

The logic was simple, if rebellion could be bargained with, there would never be an end to it.

If Robert allowed one group of rebels to negotiate their way out of consequences, it would only encourage others to do the same.

—

While the armies remained locked in stalemate, Aegor had no idea whether the sieges on the outer castles of the Vale were progressing any better.

But rather than waste time pondering battles beyond his reach, he turned his attention to something far more productive making money.

While the lords debated war strategies and planned their next moves, Aegor was busy casting a wide net, gathering potential investors for the Night’s Watch industries.

He spent his time walking through the military camps of the great houses, introducing his business ventures to every noble who might be persuaded.

Persuading them to invest in anything at all was no easy feat. This was, after all, a world where the very concept of investment was almost unheard of. Nobles hoarded wealth through land and marriage, not through trade and commerce.

Still, it was infinitely easier to extract gold from these powerful aristocrats than from the common folk, who had little to give in the first place.

And through endless trial and error, through failed pitches, revised strategies, and relentless practice, Aegor had steadily refined his skill in selling ideas.

He had one clear advantage: proof.

His booksellers moved freely between military camps, selling printed works that were flying off the shelves. The demand was visible. The profit was undeniable.

Without even realizing it, Aegor found himself invited into an increasing number of noble tents, where lords were now willing to sit and listen. More and more of them expressed interest in visiting the factories in King’s Landing when the war was over.

It was slow progress.

But it was progress.

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep