The Flight of the Falcon (Lena Arryn)
Dec 29, 2011 22:25:04 GMT
Post by targaryen on Dec 29, 2011 22:25:04 GMT
Emre sat upon the gnarled and twisted oak throne looking down upon the gathering of his lordly bannermen. He wore a simple silver mask this morning, and looked eerily innocent in his white silks, the kind you might wrap a new born babe in. His army, the lords told him, was assembling at the Bloody Gate. Brave men had kissed their wives and children goodbye before taking up arms and riding or walking to the mouth of Vale. The blades they carried, one lord said, had been blessed by Septons to ensure victory. Another lord confirmed that many wagons, pulled by many muscled horses, would carry barrels of oil stacked eight high as Emre had demanded. Armour, arrows, and assorted pikes and axes and shields were to be available also, confirmed one particularly sheepish lord who could not have been older than one and eight, Emre thought. "Good" he said in a hollow voice, strumming the fingers of his bare hand on the splintered arm of the throne. The Face of Hope was readying for war some smallfolk said - Emre Arryn would send the full force of the Vale to King's Landing to challenge King Joffrey. Others heard that a Lannister had visited the Eyrie and had scorned Lady Lena, so the massing host at the Bloody Gate was to march on Casterly Rock. Nobody knew for sure what Lord Emre intended to do with his army, now that it was gathering - the details, he told his gathered lords, would follow soon enough; he would travel to the Bloody Gate himself to address his generals before the march. "Uncle Brynden, please go to Lena and ask if she will sup with me in the afternoon - I have need of council and only her words will do", and with that Emre rose, dismissing his bannermen.