Chapter 239: The Most Vicious Insult


    Riverrun


    The rhythmic beat of drums echoed through the hall of Riverrun as Lord ckwood entered with a solemn stride.


    Above the hall, in arge chamber, Rhaegar lounged in a high seat, one leg crossed and his hand resting on his face.


    "Ah~," he sighed contentedly as Rhaenyra peeled a grape and offered it to him. He epted the grape with a look of mild surprise and chewed thoughtfully.


    Rhaenyra, unusually attentive today, rolled her eyes before returning to her seat.


    "Click, ck..." came the sound of stones hitting each other. Hena sat on her knees in front of a table, engrossed in a game with two stones.


    Below, Lord ckwood watched the scene - the three Targaryen heirs in their various states of distraction. Feeling the weight of the moment, he bowed deeply. "The ckwood House greets you, Your Grace!"


    Rhaegar smiled slightly and peeled a grape for himself, the hall otherwise silent except for the asional murmur of Hena.


    Lord ckwood sensed a rising tension and surveyed Robb and Elmo, noting that the atmosphere was far from ideal. The intimidation was palpable.After a moment''s contemtion, he adjusted his approach, "Princess, it has been a long time. May the old gods praise your beauty."


    He bowed respectfully and looked up at the table.


    Rhaenyra looked at him, a small smile ying on her lips. She shifted slightly, her embarrassment evident as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.


    The ckwoods had been her staunchest supporters, though their rtionship had grown distant since 111 AC. Still, the ckwood House continued to send annual greetings and gifts, a gesture to maintain their ties.


    Noticing Rhaegar still watching her, Rhaenyra sighed and replied formally, "May the old gods forgive your sins, Lord Ken ckwood."


    Lord ckwood, whose full name was Ken ckwood, felt a slight relief at her response. He then said, "Princess, the emissary from Riverrun has invited me here for negotiations. How may I be of service?"


    Eager to put the conversation on a more stable footing, he tried to discern the intentions behind the summons.


    Rhaenyra remained silent, deferring to Rhaegar, who began tapping his fingers on the tabletop. Finally, Rhaegar spoke, "Lord ckwood, your house has fought a private war with the Bracken House, refused royal mediation, defied the orders of your liege, Grover Tully, and even shed with the forces of Riverrun."


    Each point was punctuated by a tap of his fingers, the sound echoing like a drumbeat in the hall.


    Rhaegar''s hand stilled, his voice turning icy. "Lord ckwood, can I understand that you and your house are in rebellion?"


    Silence fell over the hall, heavy and foreboding. Lord ckwood stood in that brief, tense silence, grappling with the gravity of the usation.


    Ken''s heart skipped a beat as he regretteding to the trial. This wasn''t a negotiation - it was a condemnation.


    Swallowing hard, Ken spoke in a deep voice, "No! House ckwood is loyal to Targaryen rule and has no second thoughts."


    Under such pressure, he had no choice but to bow his head, and his words were sincere. Before entering Riverrun, he had seen the three dragons with his own eyes, especially the ck, colossal Cannibal, towering like a small fortress. Such extraordinary creatures were beyond human resistance.


    Rhaegar''s voice rose, "But you disobeyed the king’s order, attacked your feudal lord, and stationed troops outside of Riverrun without authorization!"


    With a thud, Ken fell to his knees and bowed his head. "Prince, those orders came from me alone. I alone bear the responsibility."


    When he came to Riverrun, he did not expect to leave unscathed. After insulting both the royal family and the Tullys, he knew there would be a price to pay.


    Rhaegar looked down at him with an indifferent expression. The quick confession was noted.


    "Rhaegar, we need the ckwood army to confront House Bracken," Rhaenyra whispered in his ear, offering a letter in her hand.


    Rhaegar''s cold demeanor softened as he read the letter from the Bracken family, detailing their refusal to admit guilt and their defiance. This was a house that called for stern measures.


    Following Rhaenyra''s advice, Rhaegar rose, walked to the edge of the room, and announced, "Lord Ken, you will return to King''s Landing alone to confess your sins. Your eldest son will inherit your title and lead the army to atone for these transgressions."


    He preferred not to deal harshly with nobles who confessed willingly. The final judgment was left to his father and the Small Council. Samwell ckwood, Ken''s eldest son, had already pledged loyalty and could serve as a sharp sword for their cause.


    Ken slowly closed his eyes and epted his fate, "Yes, Prince."


    He had anticipated this oue and the loss of his position, but it was a small price to save his house. Moreover, their longtime rivals, the Bracken House, were on the brink of destruction.


    With trembling legs, Ken rose and walked out of the hall, his back heavy with resignation. Robb, feeling a pang of sympathy, lowered his head, remembering the Prince''s words on the journey here-House ckwood must surrender quickly or face dire consequences.


    "Robb."


    Rhaegar called out, catching his attention.


    Robb lifted his head and responded, "Prince, what is yourmand?"


    "Take the men of the Second Sons and mobilize Commander Samwell''s army. March to Stone Hedge immediately."


    Rhaegar''s mind was clear and his n was already in motion.


    "Yes, Prince."


    Robb bowed and left to carry out his orders.


    Rhaegar then turned to Elmo. "Gather a thousand soldiers and block their retreat along the Red Fork River."


    Elmo, not daring to refuse, left quickly. He had just returned to Riverrun and now had to leave again without rest. The exhaustion was obvious, but Rhaegar did not care.


    Everyone had to work for the sake of their families.


    "Rhaegar, shouldn''t we return to Harrenhal first and discuss our strategy with Lord Leonor?" Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice low.


    The ckwoods had 2,000 men, while Riverrun could barely muster 1,000. If both sides set out at the same time, it would take about a day and a night to reach Stone Hedge.


    "No need. We will rest in Riverrun tonight," Rhaegar replied firmly. He turned and smiled. "Lord Leonor''s allegiance is to a benevolent king, and his actions will reflect that benevolence. I have my own ideas."


    Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Hena stood stunned, the stones she had been ying with shattering in her hands.


    "Broken," she murmured in confusion.


    Rhaegar nced over, curious. He took her hand gently, ruffling her lightly curled silver hair.


    Hena looked up, confused, and let him ruffle her hair with hisrge hands.


    "Never mind, I''ll ignore both of you." Rhaenyra said, unable to bear the sight of the siblings'' closeness. She gave Rhaegar a look before leaving.


    Rhaegar smiled, ignoring the meaning of her re. When you are a young man, it is important that you keep to yourself.


    ...


    A day and a night had passed.


    ckwood''s army had maneuvered into position. They were now camped five miles south of Stone Hedge, a castle located south of the Red Fork River, near the Inn of the Kneeling Man, High Heart, and Acorn Hall, and east of Riverrun. The castle itself was built on a hillside, with a ridge running along its south side, creating a natural barrier.


    Meanwhile, Riverrun''s army had reached the banks of the Red Fork River first, effectively blocking Stone Hedge''s retreat to the north. Despite the looming threat, Stone Hedge remained eerily silent, its gates tightly shut, the atmosphere tense and foreboding.


    "Roar..."


    Rhaegar arrived astride Cannibal, the dragon’s wings pping mightily as it descended. The wind whipped his ck robe around him—he had grown fond of this attire after his campaigns in the Triarchy Kingdom. The loose ck robe was fast, durable, and sturdy, perfect for battle. Anticipating a fierce sh, he had donned it in advance.


    Boom!


    Cannibalnded on the muddy ground, spraying dirt in all directions. As Rhaegar dismounted, Samwell rushed over.


    "Prince," Samwell said respectfully, "Amos Bracken it''s trapped in the Stone Hedge and cannot avoid battle. Shall we prepare for a direct attack?"


    Rhaegarughed derisively. "Amos talks tough in his letters and ims he will defend the castle to the death."


    The letter from Amos had been half a plea about the kingdom''s injustices and half a tirade against the ckwood House, refusing to admit any fault and eager for immediate war.


    Robb approached, his expression grave. "Prince, Lord Amos has forced many civilians into Stone Hedge, probably hoping to use them as human shields to deter you."


    "A despicable tactic," Rhaegar spat, then said firmly, "Send a message to Amos. Tell him to meet me at the city gates for a talk."


    Whether the conversation was sessful or not, the effort had to be made. If dragonfire ended up destroying the city, public opinion would favor Rhaegar''s attempt at diplomacy.


    "Yes, Prince," Robb replied, sending a bastard son of a knightly family loyal to the Brackens to deliver the message.


    After a tense wait, the messenger returned with news: Amos had agreed to meet, but with two conditions. They were to speak only under the battlements at the city gates, and Rhaegar was to bring only one dragon, allowing Amos to escape quickly if necessary.


    "Roar..."


    Rhaegar nced up at Syrax and Dreamfire circling above, their vertical pupils fixed on Stone Hedge.


    "No problem. I''ll meet him," Rhaegar said with a confident smile. He called for Robb and some guards to apany him.


    ...


    Arriving at the gate of Stone Hedge, Rhaegar and his retinue were met by a grim-faced Amos Bracken standing beneath the gate stacks, surrounded by arge group of soldiers.


    Rhaegar approached slowly, a smile ying on his lips as he approached the drawbridge. Cannibal eyes glinted from the shadows, its green pupils glowing with a menacing light.


    Robb followed close behind, sword in hand, proiming loudly, "Behold Rhaegar Targaryen, eldest son of Viserys I, Breaker of Shackles, Maker of Ruins, and the Heir to the Iron Throne!"


    Amos hesitated for a moment, processing the string of titles.


    Rhaegar, ustomed to such introductions, remained calm. In addition to his identity, the titles of "Breaker of Shackles" and "Maker of Ruins" were earned after the burning of the Triarchy, reflecting both awe and fear.


    With both parties now only five meters apart, Rhaegar''s expression hardened. "Amos, release the civilians in the city and you will be left with a whole body."


    Amos gripped the hilt of his sword, his voice defiant. "Prince, if you withdraw now, the Lord of Light will forgive your sins."


    Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "Has the Bracken House changed its beliefs?"


    Some lords in the Rivends believed in both the Old and New Gods, including houses like ckwood, Bracken, and Tully.


    Amos raised his chin arrogantly. "I have the protection of the Lord of Light. The gods have given me strength."


    He drew his longsword and pointed it at Cannibal with reckless bravado. "Targaryens are of fire, and the Lord of Light has given me fire."


    "From wildfire?" Rhaegar frowned, wondering if Amos was as foolish as he seemed.


    "Wrong!" Amos roared, seemingly emboldened. "Wildfire is but a product of alchemy. I have the aid of the Lord of Light."


    Foolishness! Rhaegar decided, losing interest in further dialogue. "Release the civilians, or Stone Hedge will be reduced to rubble."


    "They are my people; they will live and die with me!" Amos dered with a mad look. "The Targaryens are full of sin, you are also a abomination created by sin."


    Rhaegar''s face darkened, fury burning in his eyes. Even Robb stiffened, inwardly raging at Amos''s audacity.


    Seeing Rhaegar''s anger, Amosughed wildly. "You are full of sin and filth.. The king will assign you to follow the tradition and ept that even more abominable creatures are born."


    "Roar!"


    Cannibal roared, stretching its thick neck, its gaze locked onto Amos. The dragon''s green pupils glowed ferociously, sensing its master’s wrath.


    The humiliation cut deep. The Targaryen tradition, a point of contention for centuries, was rarely mocked so openly since the reigns of Maegor the Cruel and Jaehaerys I.


    Rhaegar''s purple eyes turned scarlet, mes dancing within. One thought consumed him.


    His voice was hoarse but resolute: "Dracarys!"