Lord Roboute Tyrell

- 260 AC -

(Randyll Tarly POV)

I walk into the large solar, where Roboute holds our usual meetings. I observe the smooth and strong stone, the pristine windows taking advantage of as much sunlight as possible and the new guards, as I walk along. Hard to believe that it has already been seven years since I first arrived here. When my father sent me to bloody study, I almost killed myself, thinking that I would be bothered like I was under our Maester. All those senseless scrolls and their use of many words without saying anything. I found Maesters useful as far as they could patch you up after you got wounded killing a wolf, and that was it. 

But I couldn't have been more wrong. 

Macragge, the capital of knowledge, learning and glory in these times. As soon as I arrived, I thought that it was different compared to other castles of any other noble shits. They taught you both theoretical and practical concepts and explained why it was necessary to learn them. Geography, the different Houses and the history of Westeros. Alliances and the nature of politics, as well as how human emotions can change the political landscape in an instant. How to fight and how to patch your own and others' wounds on the battlefield. All of it was useful and would help at one point or another. 

Roboute was six at the time Macragge accepted students. Of course, I didn't think it would be anything serious. I was ready to spend the expected amount of time, to please House Tyrell and then leave again. What I didn't expect was to be awed by the straightforwardness, no-nonsense clarity, and practicality that is Macragge. 

Meeting Roboute might have been a defining moment in my life. I haven't seen my fifteenth nameday yet, but I can safely say that there is no one in this pathetic kingdom of wastes who can hold a candle to Roboute Tyrell. I was taught to respect my elders and those of higher social standing than myself. I had to be told and reminded about that fact. I did not need to be told about it when meeting Roboute, though. I respect few people and fewer men in this world, but Roboute Tyrell is more than a man. 

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There is no end to that individual's powerful presence. Nothing fazes him or surprises him. His mind works dozens of steps quicker than yours, while his face shows nothing at all. He is loyal to his ideals of a productive, enlightened and prosperous human civilisation that will, in time, dominate the Reach and eventually Westeros through strength, but is guided by reason and logic above all else. Another facet of his personality that sets him apart is his insatiable desire for progress and expansion. He definitely believes that man can master all things given enough time, effort and resources. That you don't have to accept things as they are and must always try to improve and change things for the better. 

What impresses me most, though, is his willingness to do exactly the amount and more of what he asks of others. 

I enter the large solar and see some of my comrades who have gone through similar processes to mine over the seven years I've been here. I have spoken to those closest to Roboute and become well acquainted. Not to the point of being 'friends', since I don't think there is such a thing in Westeros, and because I see Roboute as more than a friend. Calling him that would be presumptuous of me. 

I sit down on a chair, next to Mathis Rowan, a very skilled strategist, close to my own level. 

"Did you just get here?" he asked me. 

"Yes. Is he here?" I asked in turn. 

"I haven't seen him yet. I think he arrives from Highgarden."

And indeed, a moment later, Roboute walks in, dressed in blue attire, with the white sign on his chest. He stands at the front and looks at everyone. 

"Before we start, this will be a different kind of meeting. Westeros is at war."

My eyes narrow as I hear his words. At war. So his predictions proved to be correct. I shouldn't be surprised about this, since he is seemingly perfect in all other things as well. But understanding that we are at war does feel... different, I suppose. 

"All those who don't wish to have anything to do with this war are asked to leave the solar now."

"Huh?"

It seems our leader is giving us a chance to leave with our heads held high. Does he think I would dishonour him by leaving now? I stand up and look at Roboute. Meeting his eyes makes my hair stand up in respect, no matter what occasion. 

"My Lord, please don't sell us mortals short. Where you go, I shall follow."

"I second that notion," Mathis says as he also stands up, and after that, all of us are standing. 

"Hear hear!"

Roboute nods his head. 

"I thank you all and welcome you to the first war meeting Macragge has seen to date. The Ninepenny King's, as they are known, have succeeded in taking the Stepstones. After their initial success, the Band of Nine have conquered the Disputed Lands at the end of last year and secured the Free City of Tyrosh. From initial reports, it seems that one of the nine, Alequo Adarys, also called the Silvertongue, was placed as Tyrosh's ruler."

"Has the king called to battle, my Lord?" someone asks. 

"Indeed, he has. From what we managed to gather, King Jaehaerys II Targaryen wished to take command of his forces but was persuaded otherwise by his Hand, Lord Ormund Baratheon," Roboute tells us. 

"Do we know the force we will be facing, Lord Roboute?" Mathis Rowan asks. 

"Reports are inconclusive and may vary depending on who you ask. What we do know is that they have a sizable navy, with at least two of the nine being pirates. This gives them a powerful presence at sea and will require us to respond in kind and be ready for naval battles. As for the foot soldiers, we are just as uncertain. 

As for the task force sent to fight the Band of Nine by the king, it includes a fleet of one hundred longships led by Quellon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, and a force of 1'000 knights and 10'000 men-at-arms sent by Lord Tytos Lannister from the Westerlands under the leadership of his younger brother, Ser Jason Lannister. House Martell sent spears from Dorne. We have men of the Stormlands and the Riverlands and the Vale."

He didn't mention the Reach. Surely, this is about us joining as well. 

"As for the Reach. My Lord Father and Lady Mother have granted me full command of as many men and women I wish to take to the Stepstones. I have accepted and informed them that we won't need many men at all. The best of the best are all right here."

"Heh, what a guy."

"Haha, damn right."

I grin hearing his words, and by the looks of it, he means it 100%. He never uses flowery language and speaks his mind at all times. Praise by the Blade of Unity. The highest form of praise anyone could receive in all of Westeros. 

"My Lord, may I ask, why we are entering the war for the Targaryens when they slighted the Reach to the extent that they have?" I hear Paxter Redwyne asks. 

Paxter was always the one who asked the questions no one else would ask, since they didn't think it would matter. When Roboute decided on something, it was the right thing and didn't need explanation, but Paxter still sometimes chose to ask anyway. Any other Lord might see this as an act of defiance or challenge, but not Roboute. He doesn't bother with idiots. 

"I have exchanged ravens with King's Landing. King Jaehaerys has agreed to my terms. I told them that after the hit to our face, we wouldn't enter the war. It was then decided that we have the right to feel this way. For five years, the entire Reach will not pay any taxes whatsoever. And after that, it will be reduced to 40% for another ten years. All the Lords and Ladies of the Reach have already been notified."

"B-but, my Lord, this--"

Roboute holds up his hand and stops him from talking. 

"Additionally, it was agreed that should we enter the war, we are to be allowed to take the spoils we make back home, as long as we can transport them ourselves."

That is huge. I see now, so that's what this is all about. Once again, he played everyone for a fool. He gave this lecture on warfare himself a while ago. The brutal truth of war, as he called it. By entering the war immediately, we will be able to choose our own loot and potentially profit more from it than the other participants. And since there is no way that we will lose, we will profit from this more than we could if we didn't enter the war. Everything the Band of Nine has conquered at his point is free for us to take, as long as we defeat them. 

"Make your preparations. We set sail within the fortnight. It is time for the Ultramarines to make an entrance."

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(3rd Person POV)

Randyll Tarly was right. Roboute Tyrell didn't care about the broken engagement. Not even slightly. What others might be concerned about was the loss of face, House Tyrell suffered through yet another broken engagement by the Targaryens. But Roboute knew that there was nothing like a war to regain that 'face' they supposedly lost. What Roboute didn't want to become was basically Italy during the First World War. He didn't know about that, but the principle was the same. 

The Reach were now officially supporting the war effort and could, as long as they survived till the end, only win. Roboute was 13 years old and already more powerful than all grown men. His tactical mind and superior genius were second to none and would only thrive in the midst of war. He saw all the resources that those parts of Essos had to offer, which were under the control of the Band of Nine. 

But not only that, war would strengthen his image in the minds of all his supporters and enemies. It would truly make them his friends and devoted followers. Nothing unified people like a common enemy, or enemies. So Roboute was playing four-dimensional chess, while the others were worried about his broken engagement. 

Command of the Westerosi host was given to Lord Ormund Baratheon, the Hand of the King. Ormund was far more suited to lead the host against the formidable foe that was the Ninepenny Kings. The ships set out, with Lord Ormund at the spear of the attack. As they approached the Stepstones, Lord Ormund landed his army on three islands of the Stepstones and with that, the war started in earnest. 

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The day was hot and humid as Captain Narro Saan, one of the members of the Band of Nine, thought himself clever and manoeuvred a small part of his pirate ships around the south of the Stepstones to flank the westerosi host. Three hundred hardened, deadly and merciless pirates, made up of mercenaries and cutthroats, were under his command. After the Westerosi host landed on three islands of the Stepstones, a forward scouting party from House Lannister had been ambushed and butchered by Captain Narro Saan and his men. The narrow causeway that joined two tactical positions, Redwater Isle and Split Rock, was now held by Saan's troops, while he and a smaller part of them were about to ambush once again. 

Ser Jason Lannister wanted to storm the position with brute force and take back what had been lost, but they didn't get the chance. In the distance at sea, two ships became visible, bearing the coat of arms of House Tyrell and a new one, which no one had seen by then. A white, upside-down omega symbol: the Ultima. The Reachmen, more specifically, the Ultramarines, had arrived and with them, the beginning of the greatest fighting force the world had ever seen. 

The two ships each held roughly 60 men and 15 women, ready for battle and armoured in the trademark blue armour the Ultramarines will become famous for. One ship contained Roboute as commander of the Reach host, as well as Randyll Tarly and Mathis Rowan, while the second ship was captained by Paxter Redwyne. Together with Rowena Tarly and the bulk of the archers.