The Lion and the Beacon

Chapter 45 – The Lion and the Beacon

297 AC - Oldtown

Leyton Hightower's POV

The Tower of the Voice stood high above Oldtown, a beacon of power and ambition. From its highest chamber, Leyton Hightower, Lord of the Hightower, watched the city below. Ships crowded the port, banners of war fluttering over them. Soldiers marched through the streets, knights trained in the yards, and maesters hurried between halls, carrying messages that would shape the fate of the Reach.

The war had begun, and the Hightowers would not stand idle.

The Armies of the Hightower

Leyton had spent the past months gathering his forces.

The banners of House Hightower, House Hewett, House Bulwer, and House Costayne flew beside his own. From Battle Isle, his navy had set sail under the command of Lord Hewett, moving through the Narrow Sea to engage the Royal Fleet of Stannis Baratheon. Victory at sea would decide whether Oldtown remained safe or whether fire and war would reach its very gates.

On land, the Rowans had joined them, though their lord, Mathis Rowan, found himself engaged in battle against the Osgreys and Cranes. The two houses, though smaller, had held firm against Rowan's larger army, stalling his advance. Meanwhile, the Oakhearts had stormed Brightwater Keep, taking it with ease—the Florents had left their home nearly defenseless, marching instead to Horn Hill to strengthen House Tarly.

And Highgarden…

Highgarden had gathered what remained of the Tyrell loyalists—lords uncertain of where their allegiance should lie, lords waiting for a victor before committing. But war had a way of making men choose.

Even the North had been approached. Lord Mace Tyrell sought negotiations with the Starks to further weaken King Renly's supporters.

Blood and Betrothals

Leyton turned from the window to watch his sons Baelor and Garth sparring in the yard below. Baelor, his heir, fought with a measured grace, his blade striking precisely—strong, but careful. Garth, younger and more aggressive, struck wildly, power in every blow but lacking control.

Baelor disarmed his brother with a swift maneuver, sending Garth's sword clattering to the ground.

Leyton smiled. Baelor had always been the patient one.

Leyton saw his granddaughter, his chance to glory greater than any hightower acclaimed before. Ceryse, Lynesses daughter with a Lysene Nobleman.

Ceryse, had her importance. She was secretely betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon—a match Leyton had carefully negotiated with Tywin at the war's onset. The moment the Tyrells rebelled, Leyton had seen opportunity.

His original goal had been Brightwater Keep, which his son Garth would inherit through his fourth wife's claim. But war had expanded his ambition—why stop there? If the Tyrells fell, someone would need to lead the Reach.

The Rowans had secured their place in this Western Bloc Alliance through Baelor's wife, and the Hewetts had gained ties through Garth's betrothal. Humfrey Hewett, too, would be rewarded. Once the rebels were crushed, Cider Hall would be his.

Leyton was proud. His house had never reached so high, and now the seat of Highgarden itself might be within his grasp.

And yet…

A shadow remained over his heart.

His daughter, Alerie, was still with the Tyrells.

She was his blood, but now she was his enemy. The thought of fighting against her and her children, of waging war against his own flesh, left an unease even his ambitions could not bury.

The Next Move

Ser Arlon Bulwer entered the chamber, bowing low. "My lord, the Redwynes remain neutral."

Leyton nodded, exhaling slowly. Good.

The Redwynes had ties with every faction in the war—they could not afford to choose a side. Their neutrality meant the Hightower Fleet would not have to worry about Redwyne warships interfering.

Now, there was only one task left.

Leyton turned back toward the window, gazing at the banners of his gathered army.

"The Tarlys."

If Randyll Tarly reached the Stormlands, he would join Stannis and the Stormlords. And if that happened, the balance of power in Westeros would shift against them.

That could not be allowed.

Leyton's voice was cold and firm. "The next step is clear. We must destroy the Tarly forces before they leave the Reach."

The war for the Reach had begun. And Leyton Hightower would not be denied.