Chapter 114: Oberyn and Doran

Prince Doran Martell of Dorne had been feeling troubled lately. His lunch had long since grown cold, untouched, and he waved his hand for the serving maid to remove the food. He then motioned for the guards to push his wheelchair to the balcony, where he began sipping wine from a glass, deep in thought.

Prince Oberyn Martell had gone to the Sunspear Port to meet with the nobles of the Westerlands and the Riverlands. The port, which had once been small and scarcely larger than a fishing port, was now being expanded by Doran's orders due to the ongoing war. The docks were crowded with horse-drawn carts carrying construction materials and workers busy with the expansion. For now, the warships could only dock temporarily at floating piers.

By evening, Oberyn returned to Sunspear Castle to meet Doran. As he entered the room, the servants immediately prepared to pour him his favorite wine, but Oberyn declined, instead grabbing a golden flask and drinking straight from it. Doran, turning his wheelchair to face his brother, asked, "How is the port?"

Oberyn took a large swig and placed the flask on the table. "What do you think? The warships keep arriving, day by day. The soldiers stationed outside the city have hunted all the local wildlife into extinction!"

Doran sighed, "Try to maintain order, don't let things get out of hand. Keep the army out of the city."

Oberyn leaned back in his chair, looking innocent. "Robert deceived us."

Doran raised an eyebrow, "Or rather, it was your son-in-law, Wright, who deceived you. He realized that the situation on the Stepstones was unstable, saw our Dornish forces acting like pirates, and wrote a letter to Robert, urging the Seven Kingdoms to start a war of conquest."

Oberyn lay back in his chair, feigning innocence. "I was in Essos at the time, and only learned about it after returning. Robert had already begun preparations for war six months ago. According to the timeline, it was Wright's letter from Myr that started this whole thing."

Doran's voice became calm. "Now, the situation is very unfavorable for Dorne. This war of conquest not only targets the Stepstones but also drags Dorne into it. Not only will it cut off our income, but it will also tie us firmly to the Seven Kingdoms' economy. The expansion of Sunspear is to accommodate warships, and to ensure we can later use trade to recover our losses. Sunspear has never had an open port in over a thousand years, and now, Robert has forced us to open one."

Oberyn's tone grew heated, "Robert doesn't trust us! He's lied to us! His letter said he was only targeting pirates, but look outside the port—thousands of warships! And many more supply ships! Even Greenstone in the North has this many! He's planning to colonize the Stepstones!"

Doran replied coolly, "That letter was a test. If Dorne doesn't participate in the war, the ships that come to Sunspear won't just be warships, but cavalry and infantry as well. This is the end for Tyrosh. The war is being waged in the name of the king, and a new High Lord will be appointed to the Stepstones. Brother, we need to conserve Dorne's strength and see if we can forge an alliance with this new lord beforehand. The Stepstones are right on our border — they're too important to us."

Oberyn sat up in his chair. "I know how important it is, but right now, no one knows who this new lord will be. Everyone is guessing that Robert might reward someone for their military achievements."

Doran's eyes suddenly brightened. "Could it be Wright Baratheon? Though it hasn't been made public, everyone knows this war was his idea. I've also heard that he manipulated Volantis to distract Lys and caused conflicts between the Magisters of Myr. That's quite a feat."

Oberyn didn't hesitate to reject the idea. "Impossible!"

Doran leaned forward, "Why impossible? His older brother is the king, his second brother is the Lord of Dragonstone, and his third brother is the lord of Storm's End. He's just a minor lord of the Antlers."

Doran raised a small finger, indicating how insignificant he considered Wright in comparison, while using his thumb to pinch the first joint of his small finger as he gestured.

Oberyn shook his head again.

Doran continued, "If Wright controls the Stepstones, it will be the only passage between the two continents. The Baratheon dynasty will reach its peak, and no one will dare challenge their house's authority for a long time."

Oberyn stared at his brother. "You don't understand Wright. He craves freedom. He'd rather sell aphrodisiacs in Volantis than return to manage his lands."

With that, Oberyn pulled a small glass bottle filled with blue liquid from his chest and tossed it at Doran. "Wright made this potent tonic. It's effective. You might even have another child if you drink it."

Doran rubbed the small bottle in his hands, then, after a moment's thought, slipped it into his pocket. "Considering his past actions, he's willing to leave his lands to the crown, hand over the Stormlands' business and the magic school to Renly, and travel freely. He truly doesn't seem to care for power."

Oberyn straightened up. "He may seem to avoid power, but that's because he has absolute personal strength. In Braavos, he wiped out an entire city, and in Ny Sar, he left rivers of blood. Not even the tortoises were spared. Don't be fooled by the fact that he doesn't have a single follower with him. Wherever he stands, that is the center of power! Whatever he wants to do, which lord would dare to oppose him?" Oberyn recalled the devastating magic he'd witnessed from Wright in Braavos and said seriously to his brother, "Brother, you're too focused on House Targaryen. The dragons are extinct, and Wright Baratheon has become the leader of a new force — the mage's faction. There's no need to mention Renly, but Wright's three mage apprentices are already on their way to Dorne, one of whom is the heir to the Lord of the North, and the other, if nothing unexpected happens, you'll soon be appointing her as the Sword Of The Morning of this generation."

Doran fell silent after hearing this, lost in thought.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, the door to the room was rudely pushed open, and a girl rushed in. The guards who followed tried to stop her but dared not act. Oberyn and Doran immediately recognized who it was. Oberyn waved his hand, and the guards withdrew, closing the door behind them.

"Uncle, is Daemon dead?" The girl was Doran's eldest daughter, Princess Arianne Martell. She entered without any courtesy and immediately questioned Oberyn.

"Arianne, don't be rude!" Doran scolded.

Arianne didn't even glance at her father, instead staring at Oberyn and continuing, "Did you kill Daemon with your own hands?"

Oberyn's smile faded, and his face grew serious as he said, "Daemon died for Dorne. He died honorably. His body has been sent back to Godsgrace, and I've cleared his name. He now rests in House Allyrion tomb."

Tears welled up in Arianne's eyes as she cried out to her father, "Why? Why did he have to die? He was my first love. Father, you separated us and had him follow Uncle, and now he's dead. What am I supposed to do now? Who am I supposed to marry?"

Doran sighed in helplessness. Previously, Arianne had a secret betrothal to Viserys Targaryen. This matter was of such importance that telling her had been kept a secret, as revealing it could have led to war. Now, however, with Viserys being executed by Wright, the engagement was automatically nullified.

"Daemon lived true to his knightly spirit. He was a great knight," Doran said quietly.

"Then why did you lock me up in the castle when I caught smallpox? I'm over twenty now. Are you trying to curse me to never marry?" Arianne shouted.

At fourteen, she had discovered her father's letter to her brother Quentyn, guaranteeing that he would be the ruler of Dorne. Arianne cried over it many times. Afterward, her father arranged marriages for her with old men, giving her no normal suitors, which fostered resentment toward him.

Doran sighed again. "Do you have someone you love?"

"I did," Arianne replied bitterly. "Now he's lying in a grave."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out.

"Where are you going?" Doran called after her.

"Godsgrace!" she answered without turning back.

The guards at the door looked to Doran, waiting for orders. He nodded, "Let her go. Send someone to protect her along the way."

As the guards departed, Doran turned to Oberyn. "Now that only Daenerys Targaryen remains of House Targaryen, Arianne's betrothal is void. How about arranging a marriage between Quentyn Martell and Daenerys?"

Oberyn thought for a moment. "Wright let Daenerys go, possibly because she is still young and a girl. Their marriage wouldn't happen for years yet."

Only a few knew about Young Griff's situation, and his trusted followers, not Dorne's, were around him. Oberyn had never shared this with his brother.

Oberyn handed Doran a note. Doran looked at it curiously and asked, "What is this nonsense?"

Oberyn, lying back lazily in his chair with his hands behind his head, replied, "It's intelligence from Varys the Spider. He's been watching Wright Baratheon's life closely and analyzing his behavior over the years. The letter suggests there may be a way to counter Wright's magic."

Doran read the note aloud: "Wright has disliked animal waste since childhood and hardly ever rides horses. How do you explain this?"

Oberyn answered, "There are many types of magic practitioners. In Essos, there are Warlocks who create Shade Of The Evening with blood, and those who worship and pray with fire for the Lord of Light. Each faction has its own traits. Perhaps Wright's school of magic can be countered by animal waste."

Doran raised an eyebrow, "The letter also says that the mage school doesn't keep pets or horses, and that Renly doesn't raise animals either. There could be something to this."

Oberyn shrugged. "Don't look at me. Although Wright is my son-in-law and have heard him speak about magic knowledge to Tyene on the ship, I have no magic powers myself, so I can't understand what he says."

Doran pondered for a moment, "Renly and his three apprentices are supposed to participate in the war. Maybe Wright himself will come. If we use animal waste as a weapon against the mages, could that cause trouble?"

Oberyn chuckled. "Just have the sailors fill the chamber pots at night and not dump them into the sea in the morning. It might stink a little, but it's no trouble."

Doran looked back at the note, "The mage school eats meat, but never kills chickens, always buying slaughtered ones from the market?"

Though a prince, Doran had practical experience. These days, chickens were bought to be slaughtered at home. The nobles ate the meat, and the servants ate the offal, which was cheaper and fresher than buying pre-slaughtered chickens.

Oberyn grinned. "Looks like we'll need to bring a chicken coop aboard."

Doran sighed, "Let's try it. Pass the word to the pirates, and to the navies of Tyrosh, Lys, and Myr. If it doesn't work, at least it'll be a treat for the sailors. But if it succeeds, the legend of the mages will be shattered."