Chapter 64: The Battle of the Sulphur River
Aemond keenly caught the change in his mother's expression and immediately stood up, raising his wine goblet. He toasted Lucerys, who was eating roast squab.
"Nephew, your bravery in the battle on the Boneway truly displayed the—" he paused for a moment, then forced the next words out, "—prestige of House Targaryen. This cup is for you, and for your brave knight, Uncle Valarr."
He signaled Aegon II with his eyes to act quickly, lest their mother ruin the moment. Alicent, hearing her son toast Rhaenyra's "Strong" son with such politeness, immediately glared at him.
Daemon, on the other hand, slapped his leg in amusement, his gaze toward Aemond filled with meaning. Jacaerys also looked solemnly across the table at his uncles and his sworn knight.
Dragonzel, however, maintained a calm smile. He merely watched as his stiff younger brother escaped from Lady Leila Celtigar's embrace in the center of the hall as if granted a royal pardon. Valarr grabbed a goblet from Dragonzel's table and used it to respond to Aemond's toast.
Aegon II also stood, goblet in hand, and leaned toward Dragonzel and Valarr.
"Uncle, I heard you're betrothed to a Tarly girl. How is she? Let me tell you—"
Before he could finish, Alicent noticed his inappropriate grin and shot him a disappointed look, though she restrained herself from disciplining him publicly.
Dragonzel did not wait for him to continue. He clinked his goblet lightly against Aegon's.
"Prince, mind the occasion. I will be holding a tourney at my wedding. You will attend, will you not?"
Aegon II met Dragonzel's deep violet eyes and suddenly felt a chill. He swallowed back his crude joke.
"As for the tourney…" he hesitated. Though trained by Ser Criston Cole, he was hardly confident enough to compete.
"There will be ample wine," Dragonzel added calmly.
Aegon's eyes lit up. He drained his goblet.
"It's a deal, Uncle! I will certainly attend your wedding."
He then moved toward Valarr, who had just been dragged back onto the dance floor.
Valarr sighed in relief and raised his goblet.
"Uncle Valarr," Aegon whispered, "if you don't fancy that little Celtigar girl, I know where the truly beautiful ones are in King's Landing. Next time you visit, I'll take you—"
Seeing Valarr's expression darken, Aegon immediately corrected himself.
"I jest, of course. Father is right—I fully support my daughter marrying Uncle Ray."
At last, Alicent seized the chance to intervene.
"My king, how can a royal betrothal be decided so hastily?"
"This was resolved in the Small Council," Viserys replied coldly. "A union between two dragonlord families is no trivial matter. It was part of our agreement when welcoming our cousins back. A king's word cannot be so easily broken."
He then turned to Rhaenyra.
"Daughter, I hear Dragonzel is betrothed to Lady Diana Tarly and will wed in four months. I would have your son, Prince Aegon, betrothed to Dragonzel's future daughter. What say you?"
"Father, this is our honor," Rhaenyra replied, raising her goblet toward Dragonzel. "Uncle, your thoughts?"
"This too is part of our agreement," Dragonzel answered with a smile. "I have no reason to refuse."
Daemon smiled once more.
Aemond's expression darkened, shifting repeatedly before he finally sat, teeth clenched. Alicent also sat stiffly, cutting her food with visible displeasure.
As for Lucerys, though he sensed the tension, he paid it little mind. His knight, his family, and Dragonzel stood behind him. His only concern was keeping his younger brother Joffrey from stealing his food.
"Valarr, what do you think of Lady Leila?" Dragonzel asked, pulling his brother aside after freeing himself from Assor Celtigar.
"If not for that awkward dance…" Valarr chuckled. "Lady Leila may not be as clever as Lady Diana, but she is patient and dutiful."
He paused, recalling her guiding him through the dance.
"I do not particularly mind who I marry."
"You should think carefully," Dragonzel said seriously. "Her only real advantage is her Valyrian blood—and her house's standing in Westeros."
Among the people Dragonzel had brought from Essos, many bore Valyrian features—silver or pale gold hair—but they were not nobles.
Their purpose now was clear:
To integrate into the Westerosi noble order.
"Brother, you know me," Valarr said with a shrug. "I leave such matters to you."
Dragonzel sighed lightly.
"Marriage is not a trivial matter. You must decide for yourself."
"Then… may we invite her to Dragon Nest City first?" Valarr suggested. "Like Lady Diana did—so we may come to know one another?"
Dragonzel nodded.
"Then ask her yourself. If she agrees, bring her when you return."
"Understood."
The banquet continued.
Far to the south, however, Dorne remained in chaos.
After the new year, along the Brimstone River—under the control of House Uller—three armies converged.
Lord Elyon of Godsgrace led four hundred cavalry, fifteen hundred infantry, and twelve hundred mercenaries from Essos, declaring his intent to destroy the so-called "bandit king" of House Uller.
Prince Qoren Martell commanded two thousand men and mercenaries, stationed at Vaith, ready to reinforce Elyon.
Meanwhile, House Yronwood, having taken the outer defenses of Skyreach and pinned House Fowler within the mountain stronghold, sent Lord Yorick Yronwood south with two thousand men. House Wyl contributed two hundred cavalry, though they remained wary of House Dayne.
Retaliation came swiftly.
King Albin, the self-proclaimed ruler of the Ullers, led four thousand men to Sandstone, using siege engines to hurl corpses into the city, poisoning its wells.
Deprived of water, Sandstone fell.
Albin personally executed Lord Wyl and his heir before filling the wells and marching east.
Ahead of him, Obara Sand's cavalry roamed the desert.
At Hellholt, House Uller sealed the gates, filling wells and poisoning oases to deny water to their enemies.
Soon, even Albin's army suffered thirst and was forced to retreat—only to be harried by Uller forces, losing two hundred men.
Before Hellholt, the remaining armies clashed.
At first, the battle favored numbers. Yronwood's forces began to falter under pressure. Both sides suffered losses.
Then—
The gates of Hellholt burst open.
Uller forces surged forth.
Elyon's flank collapsed instantly. His mercenaries fled, and he was dragged from his horse and slain.
Martell's army broke soon after.
But victory was short-lived.
Obara Sand's cavalry struck like a storm, crashing into the Uller ranks.
Their infantry collapsed.
King Albin himself was cut in half by Obara's blade.
Yet the war was not over.
With Albin gone and the battlefield in chaos, Obara withdrew with her cavalry.
Lord Yorick Yronwood, barely conscious atop his horse, claimed victory.
Hellholt fell.
And House Uller vanished from Dorne.
End of Chapter 65
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