Chapter 73: Shifting Alliances

Paxter Redwyne sat at the head of a long table in the Arbor's council chamber, the maps and ledgers spread before him reflecting the complexity of the times. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink, the tools of his trade. The usual calm of the Arbor's court had given way to a sense of urgency. War was still raging in the Reach, and though the battle at Bitterbridge had been won, Paxter knew that victory was only temporary. The real battle—the battle for House Redwyne's future—was just beginning.

Across from him sat Mina and Ser Martyn, his most trusted advisors. Alistair, the steward who handled the house's accounts, stood nearby, ready to report on the latest developments in their financial ventures. The tension in the room was palpable.

Paxter ran his hand over the map, tracing the routes of his trade ships. "How are our new ventures holding up?" he asked, his voice calm but direct. "We need every ship, every coin if we're going to keep up with Olenna's demands."

Alistair, a gaunt man with a sharp mind for numbers, stepped forward. "The deal with Volantis is progressing well, my lord. We've delivered the first batch of custom ships, and in return, we've received a significant shipment of spices. The spice trade is proving more profitable than we anticipated."

Paxter leaned back in his chair, considering this. "That's good news, but we'll need more than just spices to balance the books. What about Arbor Reserve? Has there been any word from the North?"

Mina cleared her throat, drawing his attention. "The emissaries have reached Winterfell, but we haven't yet received word of the Starks' reaction to the wine. They'll need time to sample it, and with the war disrupting so much of the North, trade negotiations are moving slowly."

Paxter's jaw tightened. He knew the North would be a difficult market to crack, but it was essential. "Keep pressing them. Winter is coming, and they'll need supplies. Arbor Reserve could be exactly what they're looking for to keep their nobility happy in these dark times."

Mina nodded. "I've already instructed the emissaries to offer favorable terms—exclusive rights to the wine in exchange for long-term trade agreements. If we can get the Starks on board, other northern houses will follow."

Ser Martyn, ever pragmatic, spoke up next. "But what of Braavos? Have they responded to our offer?"

Paxter's eyes flickered with anticipation. Braavos was the key to his strategy. The Iron Bank was known for its ruthlessness, but Braavos's merchant houses, wealthy and well-connected, could offer House Redwyne something far more valuable than gold—stability in a world constantly at war.

Alistair shuffled through a few letters before finding the one he was looking for. "The Braavosi merchants have expressed interest, my lord. They're intrigued by the exclusivity of Arbor Reserve, particularly for their wealthier clients. However, they're cautious. They've heard of the disruptions in the North and want assurances that our supply lines won't be impacted by the war."

Paxter drummed his fingers on the table, thinking quickly. "Assurances, is it? We can't promise peace, but we can promise them first access to Arbor Reserve shipments, even before the North. That should get their attention."

Mina raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure we want to prioritize Braavos over Winterfell? The Starks are valuable allies, and if they feel we're giving too much to the Free Cities, they may reconsider their interest."

Paxter leaned forward, eyes sharp. "It's not about choosing one over the other. It's about securing our future. The Starks may be our key to the North, but Braavos controls the sea. We need both. And if Braavos sees us as a reliable partner, they'll open doors we couldn't hope to reach on our own. This is bigger than just Arbor Reserve."

The room fell silent as Paxter's words sank in. He was thinking long-term, not just about surviving the next battle or the next negotiation. House Redwyne was more than a supplier of wine—it was a power in its own right, with the potential to rival the great houses of Westeros in wealth and influence. But to achieve that, they needed to play the game carefully, weaving a web of alliances and trade agreements that would outlast the war.

Alistair scribbled down notes. "I'll send a revised proposal to Braavos, my lord. We'll offer them priority shipments of Arbor Reserve, and I'll make sure they understand that they'll have first pick of any surplus from our vineyards."

Paxter nodded, satisfied. "Good. And make sure the North understands that they'll still receive regular shipments. We can't afford to alienate either side."

As the council resumed its discussion, Paxter's thoughts drifted back to Lady Olenna. She had been notably quiet since their last correspondence, but Paxter knew her silence didn't mean peace. Olenna was always scheming, always looking for ways to tighten her grip on the Reach. If he didn't tread carefully, she would pull House Redwyne into her web, and he would find himself paying more than just gold to keep her satisfied.

Mina must have sensed his distraction. "You're thinking about Olenna, aren't you?"

Paxter didn't bother denying it. "She's growing more demanding by the day. Every victory in this war comes with a higher price. She's already asking for more ships, more gold. If we don't find a way to curb her demands, we'll be bled dry before the war is over."

Mina frowned. "We can't refuse her outright, not without risking open conflict with the Tyrells. But perhaps we can find a way to limit her influence. Strengthen our alliances with other houses, both in Westeros and Essos. If we're seen as more than just her financiers, we'll have the leverage to push back."

Paxter nodded slowly, considering her words. "We need more allies, that's for sure. The North is one piece, Braavos another. But we also need to strengthen our position here in the Reach. The smaller houses—House Rowan, House Oakheart—they're still on the fence. If we can secure their loyalty, we'll have a stronger foundation to stand on."

Ser Martyn crossed his arms. "House Rowan has already shown interest in forming a stronger alliance, especially with the recent pirate attacks along their coast. If we can guarantee them protection, they'll likely fall in line."

Paxter smiled faintly. "Then that's our next move. Send word to House Rowan and offer them a formal alliance. We'll patrol their coastlines and ensure their trade routes are safe in exchange for their loyalty and support."

Mina nodded. "That will strengthen our position in the Reach, but it will also put us in direct competition with the Tyrells. Are you ready for that?"

Paxter's gaze was steely. "We've been competing with the Tyrells since the moment I took over House Redwyne. This is just the next step. Olenna may hold the Reach now, but if we play this right, we'll control the future."

The days that followed were filled with action. Emissaries were sent to House Rowan and Braavos, and the shipyards on the Arbor worked tirelessly to meet the increasing demand for vessels. Paxter had doubled down on his investment in both wine and ships, knowing that these two resources would be the foundation of his house's power in the years to come.

But it wasn't just trade that occupied his mind. The war in the Reach was far from over, and despite the victory at Bitterbridge, Paxter knew that the conflict was entering a new, more dangerous phase. The Lannisters were growing bolder, and Randyll Tarly's silence was unsettling. Paxter had received reports that Tarly was meeting with Lannister agents, and though no formal alliance had been announced, it was clear that the winds of war were shifting.

Late one evening, as Paxter sat reviewing the latest reports from his shipyards, a knock came at his door. Mina entered, her face pale and serious.

"We've received word from King's Landing," she said quietly. "Randyll Tarly has declared for the Lannisters."

Paxter felt a surge of anger, though he kept his face calm. "So, it's finally come to this. Tarly thinks he can challenge Highgarden, and now he has the Lannisters at his back."

Mina nodded. "This changes everything. If Tarly moves against the Tyrells, it could fracture the Reach. We need to be ready for whatever comes next."

Paxter set his reports aside and stood, his expression resolute. "Then we prepare for war. House Redwyne will not be caught off guard. Send word to the captains of the fleet—we need to be ready to move at a moment's notice."

Mina hesitated, then spoke softly. "What of Olenna? She'll expect our full support."

Paxter's gaze darkened. "We'll support her, but we won't be dragged into a war that isn't ours to fight. House Redwyne stands for itself. And if Tarly wants to play with fire, then he'll find that the Arbor is more than ready to burn him."

As the news of Tarly's betrayal spread, Paxter knew that the stakes had never been higher. War was coming, and this time, it wasn't just about the Reach. It was about the survival of House Redwyne.