Chapter 69: The Price of Reinforcements

The banners of House Tyrell swirled in the late evening breeze as the combined forces of Highgarden and the Arbor prepared for what could be the final clash at Bitterbridge. The reinforcements had arrived just in time, bolstering the weary Redwyne and Bitterbridge defenders. Paxter Redwyne stood at the walls, overlooking the army now gathered under his and Lady Olenna's banners. The grim determination of the soldiers below was matched only by his own resolve.

Even as reinforcements streamed into the courtyard, Paxter knew that the true cost of this siege had yet to be counted. War wasn't fought solely with swords and spears; it was a battle of coin, resources, and patience. And while the Tyrell soldiers might be ready for battle, their presence came with a price.

Mina stood beside him, her eyes fixed on the bustling scene below. "The men look ready, but we can't afford to rely on morale alone. The enemy has not retreated far, and they'll strike soon, likely before dawn."

Paxter sighed, his hands gripping the battlement as he surveyed the lines of Tyrell soldiers still setting up their positions. "No doubt they're planning something desperate. They know they have to break us now, before the Tyrell forces fully integrate with ours. If they don't act soon, their siege will collapse under the weight of numbers."

Mina nodded. "Exactly. But there's something else, Paxter. We must talk about the cost of this war. The Tyrells have sent their men, but Lady Olenna has been... explicit about her expectations. She expects us to cover a significant portion of the costs going forward. Reinforcing Bitterbridge wasn't a gift; it's a transaction."

Paxter's face hardened. "I knew Lady Olenna would never act without securing something in return. The Iron Bank has its claws deep in the Crown's coffers, and now Olenna wants her own grip on ours."

Mina produced a scroll from her cloak and handed it to Paxter. He unfurled it, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the contents. It was a missive from Olenna, formal yet pointed. The Tyrell forces were here to stay, but their aid came with stipulations. The Redwyne fleet would be expected to support Tyrell supply lines for the remainder of the war. Additionally, Lady Olenna wanted assurances that House Redwyne would provide generous portions of their spice and wine profits to help fund Tyrell-led campaigns in the coming months.

"They're trying to make us dependent," Paxter muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. "She wants to bind our fortunes to hers so tightly that we have no choice but to follow wherever the Tyrells lead."

Mina's expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes. "It's a delicate position. The Tyrells are still our most powerful ally, but they're also ensuring that they maintain dominance in the Reach. If we're not careful, we'll become little more than a tool for Highgarden's ambitions."

Paxter folded the scroll and tucked it away. "We need to find a way to fulfill Lady Olenna's demands without compromising our own standing. The Arbor's wealth is great, but it's not infinite. If we bleed too much for this war, we risk weakening ourselves in the long run."

Mina nodded, her mind already working through potential strategies. "The spice trade with Volantis is secure, and our new ventures into custom shipbuilding should provide a steady influx of gold. But we'll need to be careful not to overextend. Perhaps we can offer Lady Olenna partial support—enough to maintain our alliance, but not so much that it drains us."

Paxter thought for a moment, then nodded. "That could work. We'll honor our commitments, but we'll do so on our terms, not hers. Make sure our agents in Volantis are aware of the situation. We might need to renegotiate some of our terms to free up additional funds for the war effort."

Mina turned to leave but paused, looking back at Paxter. "There's also the matter of the northern lords. Our new Arbor Reserve wine is nearly ready. If we can secure contracts with the North, it could offset some of the costs."

Paxter's eyes lit up at the mention of the Arbor Reserve. The new wine, richer and darker than their traditional Arbor Gold, was designed specifically to appeal to the northern tastes. If it succeeded, it would open up a new market and solidify House Redwyne's economic dominance, even in the face of war.

"Once we have a sample, send emissaries to the North immediately," Paxter said. "If the northern lords take to Arbor Reserve, we could find ourselves in a far stronger position, one where we control the flow of both wine and gold."

Mina bowed and departed, leaving Paxter to his thoughts. The enemy was still out there, waiting for the right moment to strike. But even as he prepared for battle, his mind was already working through the calculations of profit and loss. War wasn't just a matter of winning battles—it was a matter of survival, and Paxter Redwyne intended for his house to not only survive but thrive.

As night fell, the campfires of the Tyrell and Redwyne forces flickered in the distance, casting an eerie glow over the fortifications of Bitterbridge. Inside the main hall, a small war council had been called. Paxter sat at the head of the table, flanked by Ser Martyn and Mina. Across from them were two Tyrell commanders, grim-faced and battle-hardened.

"The enemy has been quiet since we arrived," one of the Tyrell commanders said, his voice gravelly from years of shouting orders on the battlefield. "But that won't last. They know they're outnumbered now, and they'll strike soon, likely under the cover of darkness."

Ser Martyn nodded. "We've bolstered our defenses, but the walls have taken damage from the siege. We need to be prepared for a full assault, especially if they target the weaker sections."

Paxter leaned forward, his gaze steady. "We have the advantage now, but we can't let them dictate the terms of the battle. I want scouts sent out immediately to watch for any movements from their camp. If they try to flank us, we'll be ready."

The Tyrell commander raised an eyebrow. "You think they'll risk a night raid, even with the numbers against them?"

Paxter's eyes narrowed. "They have no choice. If they don't break the siege tonight, they'll be overrun by morning. Desperation makes men reckless."

Mina glanced at the map spread across the table. "We need to ensure that our supply lines remain secure. If the enemy can't break through the walls, they might try to cut off our reinforcements and supplies."

The second Tyrell commander, a younger man with sharp eyes, spoke up. "Our cavalry will patrol the outskirts, but we'll need to be vigilant. They might not come directly for the walls—they could aim to disrupt our camp instead."

Paxter nodded. "Then we'll prepare for both. Have the men ready to defend the walls, but keep a reserve force in the camp. If the enemy tries anything, we'll be ready."

The meeting concluded, and the commanders left to carry out their orders. Paxter remained at the table for a moment longer, his fingers tracing the edges of the map. The battle for Bitterbridge was nearing its climax, but even victory here wouldn't be enough. The war was draining his resources, and Lady Olenna's demands were only the beginning. If he wasn't careful, House Redwyne could find itself fighting not just for survival, but for its very independence.

As Paxter stood to leave, Mina re-entered the room. "The scouts are ready, and the men are in position. We'll be prepared for anything."

Paxter smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Good. Tonight could decide the fate of Bitterbridge. But remember, Mina—war is only part of the battle. The real fight is for control of our wealth and future."

Mina nodded. "And that is a fight we won't lose."

As the sounds of preparation filled the hall, Paxter knew that the price of war was more than blood—it was gold, trade, and alliances. And while others might count their victories on the battlefield, Paxter Redwyne would measure his in the wealth that ensured his house's future.