Chapter 80: The Weight of a Coin

The Arbor was no longer a silent observer of war—it was a force bracing for impact. The days passed in restless preparation, with each new sunrise bringing another decision, another challenge. Paxter Redwyne had made his choice. He would not bend the knee. Now, he had to ensure that his house did not crumble under the weight of that choice.

The Lannisters' final warning sat unopened on his desk. He had read it once, and once had been enough. There was no need to revisit veiled threats when the true danger was already moving against them. He had expected pressure, expected threats, but the brazenness of the attack on his docks made it clear—this was no mere test of loyalty. This was the first strike in a war that could define the future of the Reach.

Paxter stood in the war council chamber, a heavy map of Westeros stretched across the table before him. Mina, Ser Martyn, Alistair, and several of the Arbor's highest-ranking officers stood around it, faces tight with focus. The air was thick with tension, the weight of decisions yet to be made pressing upon all of them.

Mina tapped a slender finger against the map. "We have confirmation—Tarly's forces are marching south. Scouts spotted his banners near the Mander River two days ago."

Ser Martyn exhaled sharply. "How many?"

Mina's expression darkened. "At least eight thousand men."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. House Redwyne had a strong fleet, but in terms of land forces, they could not match an army of that size. If Tarly's forces reached the Arbor's shores, it would be a siege, and a brutal one.

Paxter's voice was calm, measured. "Then we must ensure they never land."

He looked to Ser Martyn. "Are the ships ready?"

"Aye," Ser Martyn confirmed. "Every war galley is prepared. The moment Tarly's fleet moves, we intercept."

Mina glanced at Paxter. "The Lannisters will expect resistance, but they may not expect us to strike first."

Paxter's lips curled slightly. "Good. Then let's keep it that way."

While the military preparations were underway, Paxter turned his attention to the war of commerce. The Lannisters might have power on land, but Paxter controlled the flow of goods that passed through the Reach. If the Arbor's ports closed to them, it would be a major disruption.

Mina handed him the latest reports from their trade routes. "Braavos has responded favorably to our offer. They've agreed to continue investing in our wine shipments."

Paxter nodded. "And what of the North?"

"They are willing to trade," Mina said. "But Lord Manderly has warned that the Lannisters may retaliate by attempting to seize our trade vessels."

Paxter exhaled slowly. "Then we give them nothing to seize."

He turned to Alistair. "Rework our shipping routes. Any shipment that would normally pass near Lannister-controlled waters now goes through alternative routes. Use smaller ships when necessary—make it harder for them to track us."

Alistair nodded. "It will be done."

Paxter's mind was already calculating his next move. The Lannisters expected House Redwyne to act like a traditional noble house, but they were not a kingdom built on steel and blood. They were built on commerce. And commerce was a battlefield all its own.

Three nights later, as Paxter sat in his study reviewing naval reports, a knock at his door shattered the quiet.

A young guard entered, breathless. "My lord, you need to come to the eastern docks. Now."

Paxter stood swiftly, Mina at his side as they made their way down the stone corridors of Redwyne Keep. The scent of burning wood and salt filled the air as they stepped outside, the night sky thick with smoke.

The eastern docks were ablaze.

Several merchant ships burned, their sails curling into ash as the flames roared against the black waters. Dock workers scrambled to contain the fire, throwing buckets of seawater onto the inferno, but it was clear that the destruction had been deliberate.

Ser Martyn was already there, his expression tight with fury. "Sabotage," he growled. "They struck in the dead of night—set fire to three of our best merchant vessels."

Paxter's jaw clenched. "Lannisters?"

Martyn nodded. "Most likely. There were no survivors among the culprits, but we found gold coins stamped with the lion's sigil near the wreckage."

Mina inhaled sharply. "They're sending a message."

Paxter's eyes darkened as he watched the flames consume the wreckage. "And we'll send one back."

By dawn, a Redwyne warship had set sail under cover of morning mist. Its destination: a Lannister supply fleet anchored near the Shield Islands.

Paxter had no intention of letting the attack go unanswered. The Lannisters believed they could choke the Arbor into submission with fire and fear.

But they had forgotten one thing.

House Redwyne ruled the seas.

And soon, the Lannisters would remember that lesson.

Two days later, as the Redwynes prepared for the next strike in their trade war, an unexpected visitor arrived. A Dornish ship, its hull painted deep red and gold, docked in the Arbor under a banner of neutrality.

Mina met Paxter outside the keep. "The Martells have sent an envoy," she said. "They want an audience with you."

Paxter arched a brow. "Dorne has been quiet for too long. What do they want?"

Mina handed him a sealed letter. "They're requesting ships."

Paxter frowned, breaking the seal and scanning the message. His fingers tightened as he read.

Lord Redwyne,

House Martell has long respected the independence of the Arbor, just as we have long valued our own. With the fall of Highgarden and the Lion's grip tightening around the Reach, we seek to secure our interests elsewhere.

A large shipment is being prepared for transport to Meereen. It is essential that these ships sail unimpeded. Dorne lacks the naval strength to ensure this. The Arbor, however, does not. We seek your aid.

In return, House Martell will ally with House Redwyne, and grant unfettered trade to our ports.

We await your answer.

—House Martell

Paxter set the letter down slowly, his mind racing. Why Meereen? And what was the cargo?

Mina watched him carefully. "This doesn't make sense; why reach out now of all times?"

Paxter didn't respond immediately but agreed.

He looked at Mina, his voice low. "We need more information. We need to know exactly what they're shipping." In frustration, he slammed the letter on the table and dislodged a coin he had not seen. The coin rolled off the table and traveled west across the floor. 

Paxter picked up the coin and examined it strangely. The coin was a Golden Mark from Maureen. He had seen other coins from Maureen before, but this coin was different. The weight and stepped pyramid were different. 

Turning the coin over, Paxter's eyes jolted in shock.

The room fell silent.

On the front of the coin, where Harpy of Ghis should've been, was a woman with three dragons. 

One the coin read, Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Maureen.