NOVEL NEXT Chapter 26: The Seeds of Rebellion
Chapter 26: The Seeds of Rebellion
The Westerlings' tentative shift in allegiance was a victory, but it was a fragile one. News of Ivar Sunblode's efforts to sway Tywin's vassals spread quickly, both bolstering hope among the Riverlands' loyalists and fanning the flames of Lannister wrath. Tywin Lannister, true to his reputation, would not let such defiance go unpunished.
Back at Sunblode Isle, Ivar and his council prepared for what they knew would be a dangerous game of cat and mouse—a game that would test not only their strength but their unity.
A Raven from the Rock
The raven arrived at dawn, its black wings cutting through the crisp morning air. Ivar sat in the great hall with his council, the table before him littered with maps, letters, and supply ledgers. Lysa Blackthorne read the message aloud, her voice steady but her expression grim.
**"To Lord Sunblode,
Your efforts to disrupt the natural order of the Seven Kingdoms have not gone unnoticed. You seek to weaken my house, to sow chaos among my allies, and to paint yourself as a savior of the Riverlands. But the lion does not cower before the bark of a dog.
Your actions have consequences. Consider this your first and only warning: cease your efforts, or the full weight of House Lannister will descend upon you. Your banners will burn, your lands will fall, and your name will be forgotten.
Tywin of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West"**
Timothy Sunrise leaned back in his chair, tossing a dagger between his hands. "He writes as if he's already won. Do you think he's bluffing?"
"He doesn't bluff," Lysa said sharply, folding the letter and placing it on the table. "Tywin's warning is calculated. He wants us to second-guess ourselves, to doubt our position."
"Then we don't give him that satisfaction," Ivar said, his tone cold. "If he's warning us, it means we've forced him to take notice. That's an advantage."
Roland Emberhill frowned. "An advantage we can't take lightly. Tywin's not just sending letters—he's preparing for something. His forces are regrouping, and it's only a matter of time before he strikes again."
Ivar nodded. "Then we strike first. But not where he expects."
Planning the Next Move
The council leaned over the map of the Westerlands, their voices low but intense as they debated their next target.
"Tywin's weakness is his pride," Ivar said, tracing a finger along the map. "He believes his house is untouchable. If we show him otherwise, it'll force him to act—and when he does, we'll be ready."
Lysa pointed to the southern coast of the Westerlands, where small fishing villages dotted the shoreline. "These villages supply food and fish to Casterly Rock. They're lightly defended, but their loss would be felt."
"Too small a target," Roland said. "We need something that sends a clearer message. What about Ashemark? It's a Lannister vassal, and its silver mines are critical to their economy."
Timothy grinned. "A bold move. I like it. Hit them where it hurts."
"It's risky," Duncan Greenfield interjected, his voice measured. "Ashemark is better defended than the smaller villages. If we're caught, it could cost us dearly."
"Every move we make is a risk," Ivar said. "But Ashemark is worth it. A strike there weakens Tywin's coffers and shows the other vassals that his protection isn't as ironclad as he claims."
The Raid on Ashemark
The operation began under the cover of darkness. Ivar personally led the raid, accompanied by Timothy, Lysa, and a handpicked team of enhanced soldiers. The journey to Ashemark was grueling, the narrow mountain passes and dense forests providing little comfort as they moved deeper into enemy territory.
As they neared the castle, Lysa halted the group, her sharp eyes scanning the terrain. "The defenses are lighter than I expected," she said, her voice low. "But don't let that fool you. Tywin doesn't leave anything truly unprotected."
Timothy smirked. "We'll just have to make sure we're faster than whatever surprises he has waiting for us."
The team approached the castle's mines first, their movements silent and precise. Enhanced soldiers planted explosives along the mine's critical support structures while others disabled the guards patrolling the area.
Inside the mines, the air was thick with dust and the faint smell of sulfur. Ivar watched as his soldiers worked, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of their torches.
"This will send a message," Timothy said, his voice hushed but confident.
"Let's hope they hear it," Ivar replied.
As the last explosive was set, the team retreated to the treeline. Moments later, the mines erupted in a thunderous explosion, the ground shaking beneath their feet as plumes of smoke and debris filled the night sky.
The Lion Strikes Back
The raid on Ashemark sent shockwaves through the Westerlands. Tywin's response was swift and merciless. Within days, reports of renewed raids along the Riverlands' western border reached Sunblode Isle. This time, Tywin's forces didn't stop at burning fields or looting villages—they executed entire families, leaving their bodies as grim warnings.
In Riverrun, Hoster Tully convened another council of lords. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with the weight of the decisions ahead.
"Tywin's retaliation is escalating," Hoster said, his voice grave. "The Riverlands are bleeding, and the people are losing faith in our ability to protect them."
Walder Frey, seated near the head of the table, sneered. "This is what happens when we let Sunblode play hero. His antics have brought nothing but ruin to our lands."
Tytos Blackwood shot to his feet, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You coward! Sunblode is the only one taking action while you sit behind your walls, whining about consequences!"
Frey's face turned red, his thin lips curling into a snarl. "And what has his 'action' brought us? More death, more destruction, more suffering!"
"Enough!" Ivar's voice cut through the argument like a blade. He rose from his seat, his gaze hard. "Tywin's retaliation isn't about me—it's about breaking us. If we let his tactics divide us, he wins. But if we stand together, we can outlast him."
"And what do you propose, Lord Sunblode?" Frey sneered. "Another reckless raid? More provocations?"
"No," Ivar said, his tone calm but firm. "We fortify. We prepare. And when the time is right, we strike at the heart of his power."
The Burden of Leadership
That night, Ivar sat alone in his chambers, staring at the map of the Riverlands spread across his desk. The weight of his decisions pressed heavily on him, each choice a balancing act between strength and survival.
Lysa entered quietly, her expression uncharacteristically soft. "You did well today," she said, pouring a cup of wine and placing it in front of him.
"Did I?" Ivar asked, his voice tinged with doubt. "Every move we make costs lives. Every victory feels like a step closer to ruin."
Lysa sat across from him, her sharp gaze unwavering. "Leadership isn't about avoiding the cost. It's about ensuring the cost is worth it. The lords may grumble, but they follow you because they see what you're building—a Riverlands that can stand on its own."
Ivar nodded slowly, taking a sip of the wine. "And what happens if I fail?"
Lysa's voice was steady. "Then you get back up and try again. Because that's what leaders do."
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