Chapter 81: The Flames Beneath the Waves

The burned remains of Redwyne merchant ships still smoldered in the harbor, their charred skeletons protruding from the water like broken ribs. Though the fires had been extinguished, the wounds left behind were fresh and raw—a reminder that House Redwyne was not untouchable.

Paxter stood at the ruined waterfront, his hands clasped behind his back, his mind methodically sorting through the facts. Three ships burned beyond repair, their cargo reduced to blackened husks floating in the shallows. Barrels of Arbor Gold cracked and split, their contents washing away into the sea. Worst of all, the flames had spread to the dock itself, forcing repairs that would take weeks to complete.

Every part of this attack felt like a test—not a full assault, but an attempt to probe House Redwyne's strength and resolve.

Mina stood beside him, her expression unreadable, though Paxter knew her well enough to see the anger simmering beneath her composed demeanor.

"The men are uneasy," she finally said. "This wasn't just an attack on our ships. It was a message."

Paxter exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Messages are sent in the dark," he murmured. "Answers come in the daylight."

Mina frowned. "You have something in mind?"

Paxter turned toward her, his voice measured. "If House Tarly meant to cripple us, they would have attacked our war fleet, not merchant vessels."

Mina nodded, following his thought. "So they wanted to scare us into making a mistake?"

"Yes," Paxter said. "And I won't give them the satisfaction."

The attack had been too clean to be random, yet too sloppy to be Randall Tarly's usual methods.

Paxter had seen Tarly's work firsthand—a man of strict discipline, a commander who preferred overwhelming force to deception. This? This was something else entirely.

By nightfall, Redwyne patrols scoured the coastline, searching for any trace of the saboteurs. Scouts had tracked footprints in the sand, leading away from the docks toward a hidden cove just north of the Arbor's main port.

Ser Martyn, sword drawn, led the patrol into the cliffs. What they found was confirmation of what Paxter already suspected—small, fast raiding vessels, still rocking in the shallow waters. The remains of a hasty campfire smoldered, and half-burned scraps of parchment were buried beneath the ashes.

Mina's eyes flicked toward them as they were retrieved. "Tarly's sigil?"

Ser Martyn shook his head. "No. Something else."

Paxter took the charred remains of the parchment, running his thumb over the red wax seal that still clung to its edges.

Not a Huntsman's Horn. Not the Lannister Lion.

Instead, a twisted, burning sun.

Mina inhaled sharply. "House Florent."

Paxter clenched his jaw. Florents. Traitors among traitors.

The Florents had always reached for power beyond their station, once siding with Stannis Baratheon in his failed rebellion, and now—clearly—they had made their bed with the Lannisters.

But why?

Paxter turned to Ser Martyn. "Find out where they came from. Then we'll seize their boats, burn their camp. We'll send our own message."

Mina watched him carefully. "You mean to strike back immediately?"

Paxter's gaze hardened. "If we delay, they will think us weak. If we hesitate, they will strike again."

The destruction of three ships was not merely a military setback—it was an economic blow. House Redwyne's power rested in its trade, and the flames had burned away hundreds of barrels of wine, shipments that had been bound for Braavos, the North, and Oldtown.

Alistair, the Arbor's financial steward, entered the war chamber shortly after nightfall. He placed a ledger on the table, flipping it open with precision.

"The losses are… significant," he admitted. "Those three ships alone carried nearly twelve thousand barrels of Arbor Gold. Our contracts in the Free Cities will have to be renegotiated."

Paxter's fingers tapped against the wooden table. "Who stands to profit from this?"

Mina exchanged a glance with Alistair. "The Iron Bank."

Paxter exhaled sharply. Of course.

The Iron Bank of Braavos had already taken Lannister gold. If House Redwyne became a financial liability, they would cut their ties and favor the Lannisters outright.

"This is more than sabotage," Mina said quietly. "It's economic warfare."

Paxter lifted the Florent sigil, weighing it in his palm. He had always known this war would not be fought with swords alone.

But now?

Now, he knew exactly where to strike back.

Ser Martyn entered, his expression grim but resolute. "We found where the saboteurs came from, my lord."

"Go on."

"The saboteurs came from Brightwater Keep," Martyn confirmed. "Florent men, likely hired mercenaries. They slipped in, set the fire, and tried to retreat before it got out of control."

Paxter leaned forward. "Burning three ships does not weaken us. So why do it?"

Mina's gaze sharpened. "Because if they made you believe Tarly was behind it, you'd waste time and resources retaliating against him instead of them."

Paxter nodded. "They want us to fight among ourselves."

Ser Martyn clenched his jaw. "Then what's our move, my lord?"

Paxter turned to him, voice cold and steady.

"We return the favor."

Instead of marching on Tarly, Paxter sent his best saboteurs to Brightwater Keep. If House Florent wanted to play at war in the shadows, then so would he.

✔ Three Florent grain stores were burned.

✔ Two of their supply wagons were raided.

✔ One of their key traders mysteriously vanished.

No banners were raised. No armies marched. But the message was clear.

"You strike at House Redwyne in the dark? We will strike back, unseen and unstoppable."

That evening, Paxter stood on the balcony of Redwyne Keep, turning the Meereenese coin over in his palm.

The Florents had made their move. The Iron Bank had begun its silent war.

But the Martell proposal remained unanswered.

Mina entered, holding a sealed letter. "The Myrish sellsword has arrived, my lord."

Paxter set the coin down. "Then let's find out if the rumors are true."

He tapped the coin once, watching it spin before settling.

The queen of dragons' face stared up at him.