Chapter 581

“Aegor, you’re making this incredibly difficult for me.” Tyrion sighed, exasperated. “Father agreed to let me negotiate with you because of our close relationship. He thought I had the best chance of striking a deal that both sides could accept. But now, with the Queen’s demands being so harsh, aren’t you forcing the Westerlands to seek another path?

“There are three thousand troops garrisoned in Golden Tooth. Lannisport has already mustered over ten thousand elite soldiers. In Oxcross, my uncle, Ser Stafford, has trained a fresh army of ten thousand, ready for battle at any moment. And if you add in the mercenaries and freeriders we can hire... we can field an army of thirty thousand men.

“The question is—will this force fight for the Queen beneath the banner of the Red Dragon, or will it oppose her? That all depends on what we can agree upon today.”

Tyrion hadn’t wanted to sound so overtly threatening, but the reality was undeniable: because the Westerlands had maintained their neutrality for years, they remained one of the most intact military powers in the Seven Kingdoms. They had both the bargaining chips and the strength to negotiate with any side.

Yet the conditions Aegor had laid out… To the uninformed, it might seem as if the Queen’s forces had already breached Lannisport, surrounded Casterly Rock, and driven House Lannister to the brink of ruin.

With no other choice, Tyrion had to flex his muscles—just enough to set the stage for a counteroffer.

“The Westerlands will assume full responsibility for repaying the Crown’s debts to the Iron Bank, all of them.” He directly named the lowest price Tywin had permitted him to offer. “If Her Grace is still not satisfied, we can provide an additional loan of one hundred thousand gold dragons to stabilize her reign in its early days…”

Aegor raised a hand, cutting him off.

He had no desire to turn a conversation between friends into outright hostility. But politics had no place for sentiment.

Thirty thousand soldiers. Not an inflated number, but a hard fact. And knowing Tywin’s cunning, there was no telling how many scorpion ballistae had already been stockpiled in those ranks.

This strength gave House Lannister both confidence and ambition. If he didn’t display power of his own, if he tried to win this negotiation with words alone, Tyrion would assume he was either a fool or a friend desperate to take advantage of past ties.

“The tent is a little stuffy. Come, let’s take a walk. I have something interesting to show you.”

Was that a dismissal? Had the negotiations collapsed?

Tyrion frowned. But Aegor’s expression was calm, not angry. So he hopped down from his chair and followed Aegor outside.

They walked toward the western edge of the camp.

“Who commands the garrison at Golden Tooth?” Aegor asked.

“My uncle, Kevan.”

Aegor smirked. “Good.”

Good? How was that good? A war between them was about to erupt, and Aegor thought it was good?

Tyrion nearly asked, but held his tongue.

Surrounded by guards, they climbed a wooden watchtower that overlooked the land to the west. The cold winter winds howled, making Tyrion shiver. Though the Riverlands were warmer than the North, the damp air made the chill sink into his bones.

“Where’s this ‘interesting’ thing you wanted to show me?” Tyrion asked.

“There.”

Aegor pointed toward a massive boulder, standing several dozen feet tall in the distance.

A rock. That was it?

The Westerlands were full of mountains. Rocks were hardly a rare sight.

It was a notable one, though—Tyrion recognized it immediately. The stone had stood beside the River Road for ages. Anyone traveling between the Westerlands and the Riverlands would see it.

When he was a boy, he had even considered hiring a stonemason to carve the words WELCOME TO THE WESTERLANDS on its surface. But the craftsman had told him that the stone was too brittle to carve easily. The cost would be obscene. Tyrion had quickly abandoned the idea in favor of spending his coin in King’s Landing’s finer brothels.

“It’s a rock,” Tyrion said flatly. “So?”

Aegor didn’t answer. He gestured toward a soldier nearby. “Begin.”

The man raised a horn and blew a single note, then signaled toward the rock.

It was only then that Tyrion noticed there were men at the base of the boulder, previously hidden from view.

The guards around them raised their shields, positioning them above Aegor and Tyrion’s heads.

???

Before Tyrion could ask what was happening, the men at the boulder’s base suddenly bolted.

A few seconds later, the earth trembled.

A flash of light erupted from the bottom of the rock. A thunderous explosion followed an instant later, shaking the ground beneath them.

A controlled demolition.

Aegor had arrived outside Golden Tooth the previous day. While setting up camp, he had ordered his engineers to drill into the base of the boulder, plant explosive charges, and rig a fuse.

Now, before Tyrion’s very eyes, the seemingly unbreakable landmark of the River Road was reduced to rubble.

Cannon fire would have achieved the same effect, but cannon barrels had limited lifespans. Aegor had no intention of wasting precious artillery just to flex his strength. Instead, he had chosen to destroy something so ancient, so immovable, that none could question the sheer power he commanded.

The multiple charges hadn’t detonated all at once, lacking the precision of electric ignition. Instead, they fired off in a staggered sequence, their delayed echoes bouncing between the mountains, merging into a rolling, thunderous roar.

The mighty stone, which had stood for countless generations, cracked and crumbled. Gravity did the rest.

A final, deafening crash rang out as the boulder collapsed, sending shards flying in every direction. Some of the smaller fragments pelted the wooden walls of Aegor’s camp, striking the raised shields of the guards.

Tyrion was speechless.

A hundred pounds of gunpowder spoke louder than a thousand words.

Only after the dust settled did Aegor finally speak again.

“You know,” he said, his tone casual, almost indifferent. “I could have kept this little trick to myself. Lured the Westerlands into the Queen’s camp with promises and friendship. And then, when the Seven Kingdoms were united under her rule… I could have revealed my hand.”

Tyrion’s throat was dry. He swallowed, unable to summon a witty retort.

“But I didn’t,” Aegor continued. “Because I see you as a friend. I truly want you as my Master of Coin. And I won’t let some petty deception ruin our relationship.” His expression turned cold. “The Crown’s control over the Westerlands’ gold is inevitable. Either House Lannister will take the lead in managing it… or another noble house from the West will rise in the Queen’s favor and do it for her.”

Tyrion said nothing.

“I have good news for you,” Aegor went on. “The Queen has no need for the Westerlands to march on King’s Landing. She has… other plans for your armies.

“So you don’t need to answer me today. Take your time. Speak with your uncle Kevan. Speak with your father. But before you decide, remember this.”

His voice turned sharp.

“No matter what banners they carry, no matter what cause they claim to fight for—if any army from the Westerlands sets foot in the Riverlands without the Queen’s express permission…”

He glanced toward the shattered remains of the boulder.

“They’ll receive the same welcome.”