"First of all, all the following plans are based on the assumption that you, Father, can find a way to get Robert out of the game."
Tyrion spoke confidently, though he vaguely felt something strange—it was hard to believe that just a year ago, he would never have imagined himself discussing regicide so casually. The more one uses their mind, the sharper it becomes. Managing such a vast organization like the Night's Watch not only honed his skills and intellect, but also greatly influenced his temperament and way of thinking. In Tyrion's eyes, the so-called king was now nothing more than a noble ranked higher than a duke. For the survival of House Lannister, Robert had to die.
"Before we begin planning, we must first leave ourselves a way out, be prepared to escape across the Narrow Sea if necessary."
"There are plenty of ships in Lannisport. You say prepare—does that mean we should load our wealth onto the ships before the battle even starts?" Tywin snorted, displeased. "If the plan fails, we can always retreat. This, I promise you."
"I trust you, Father. Now that we have secured our escape route, we need to set strategic goals. It is clear that we cannot win this war directly. What we need to do is buy time, delay, until our people in the Red Keep succeed in eliminating the king and chaos breaks out in King's Landing." There was a map on the table, but Tyrion, being short, could not easily reach it. He had to climb onto the chair, stepping on the support rods between the legs to stand upright while the others remained seated. Only then could he barely reach the map. "The ultimatum gives us ten days. Officially, it is time for us to consider our response, but in truth, it gives the other six kingdoms time to mobilize. The rebellion in the Vale has just ended. It won't take long for their army to regroup. We don't have much time left. The first question we need to address now is: if we are to take the initiative, who should we target, and how exactly should we do it?"
"The Riverlands, adjacent to the west, are one of the key granaries of the Seven Kingdoms. If we attack there and cause significant damage, we could disrupt their troop movements and logistics." Kevan frowned. "If we truly must choose a target, it has to be the Riverlands... Although some areas of the Reach can harvest three crops a year and their food and fodder supply far surpasses the Riverlands, they are too strong. If we provoke them directly, we might just hasten our own demise."
"My uncle has thought this through carefully. The Reach must not be touched." Standing on the chair, Tyrion leaned over and pointed at Ashford, the easternmost part of the Reach, on the map. "Robert made this mistake during his rebellion against the Targaryens. He could have marched north to attack King's Landing directly or linked up with his allies, but instead, he insisted on leading his army westward into the Tyrells' territory, showing off his power. He hoped to achieve a great victory so that the royal army in the Reach would hesitate to strike at Storm's End. In the end, not only did he fail, but he was also defeated by Randyll Tarly with just the vanguard force and nearly lost his life. For a time, he became a laughingstock."
It had indeed been a joke, but Robert ultimately won and now stood poised against the Lannisters. At this thought, no one laughed. They simply let the dwarf continue.
"The Reach is a very interesting place. Its size, resources, production, and number of soldiers all rank first among the Seven Kingdoms. It is the undisputed uncrowned king of Westeros. Aegon Targaryen must have seen this, which is why he deliberately chose to humiliate the Reach by appointing the steward of the exterminated House Gardener as the new Lord of Highgarden. This was meant to keep the Reach divided... a truly cunning and ruthless move. The nobles of the Reach, descendants of the 'Green Hand' bloodline, have never accepted the Tyrells' rise to power. They have split into many factions and show little respect to their liege lord. As a result, although the Tyrells boast paper strength several times greater than our Westerlands, their actual power is inferior to ours."
The meeting hall of Casterly Rock had become Tyrion's stage. He continued his analysis. "But these sons of the Reach share one thing in common—they are fiercely xenophobic. They may fight among themselves, but they will unite against any outside threat. If we don't provoke them, at worst, only the Tyrells might send troops or gold to fight for the future queen's position. But if we do provoke them, we will instantly offend the entire Reach. When united, the Reach nobility is a truly terrifying force. Even if the other five kingdoms simply stand by and watch, the Reach alone could be enough to crush us."
"But the situation in the Riverlands is different. All the families there, including the Tullys, are mediocre. They lack both a strong army and outstanding commanders. Their vassals obey them largely because Lord Hoster married off his two daughters wisely. The only unstable factor, the Freys, recently gained a satisfactory son-in-law in Robb Stark and will not defy their own liege lord. This means that whether or not we strike first, the Riverlands forces will surely take part in the siege against us. Rather than waiting for them to unite and become a threat, it's better to cripple them first. This will disrupt the Northern army's supply lines and weaken the alliance between the wolf, the fish, and the falcon, clearing the path for our next move."
Attacking the Riverlands first aligned perfectly with Tywin's own plan. He nodded, motioning for Tyrion to continue.
"If we are to strike at the Riverlands, we must be clear about our objectives. The Westerlands have no shortage of resources. What we lack are troops and time. Our goal in attacking is not to capture territory, but to cause destruction," Tyrion explained. "We should deploy only elite, fast-moving cavalry units. Engage and destroy small enemy detachments when encountered, but avoid any direct large-scale battles. Focus on bypassing strongholds, burning crops, and destroying grain stores nearing harvest. But we must kill as few people as possible—especially women and children. When the armies from the Vale and the North arrive, they will find the Riverlands scorched and desolate, with countless mouths crying for food. This way, not only will they be unable to gather supplies locally, they will also have to divert their efforts to feed their allies' starving civilians. This back-and-forth will buy us significant time."
Cersei, who had always disliked Tyrion, frowned impatiently as she watched him command the family's highest strategy meeting as if he were the head of House Lannister. In contrast, Jaime wore a complex expression. He had heard of Tyrion's intellect, but rarely witnessed it firsthand. Though initially shocked by the idea of taking the offensive, by the time his brother finished outlining the plan, even Jaime found it compelling.
Tywin gave a cold nod. "Very thorough. Is there anything else?"
Tyrion looked directly at his father, lips curling slightly. "It won't be as easy to hire mercenaries this time as it was in the past."
"In the past, whenever the Lannisters announced recruitment, free riders and hedge knights from across the Seven Kingdoms would flock to serve. But this time, facing a war that no one believes we can win, even if we offer higher pay, only half of them might show up," Kevan added, shaking his head. "At the start of the war, the main forces we can mobilize are the expanded garrison of Lannisport's city guard, the reserves, and a few thousand hired sellswords. Even if we begin conscripting peasants immediately, training them into an army would take too long. The early battles might be manageable, but as the six kingdoms' main forces fully engage, we will soon be outmatched."
"The new recruits must be trained, but we cannot count on them in this war," Tyrion replied firmly. "If the armies of the six kingdoms break through the Golden Tooth and Crakehall and Robert still lives, then we will simply board the ships and flee. No number of fresh recruits can save us from that. We must focus on holding those two defensive lines as long as possible. Besides defense, we must harass the enemy. Send silver-tongued envoys to the Stepstones and the Free Cities of Essos, hiring pirates and mercenaries. They may not be willing to come west to fight the armies of the six kingdoms head-on, but they'll gladly raid the eastern coastline of Westeros for profit."
Tyrion leaned forward, tracing a line along the map from north to south along the Narrow Sea—from the Last Hearth along the northern coast, past the Three Sisters of the Vale, to Gulltown and Dragonstone, and down toward the Stormlands. Reaching Dorne, he circled the southern tip of Westeros before passing Oldtown and the Shield Islands on the west coast. "From north to south, our hired raiders will strike at any family or castle near the shorelines of the North, the Vale, the Crownlands, and Dorne. Leave the Reach alone for now—it's too risky, too far. Spend every coin in our vault if we must, or be ready to join those coins in the grave. We will launch the largest mercenary and pirate campaign in history. Thousands of marauders and mercenaries will raid every coastline of the Seven Kingdoms. They may not take castles or fortresses, but their very presence will create chaos and trouble for our enemies."
Tyrion paused, gauging the expressions of the four others seated at the table, then delivered his final point: "And, of course, we will never admit to having hired them."
The rest of the Lannisters exchanged glances. It was easy to guess who was behind it, but denying involvement still had its uses. Kevan shuddered. For the first time in his life, he felt genuinely afraid of his dwarf nephew. It had only been a year since their last meeting—what on earth had happened to Tyrion to make him this ruthless?
"Once this plan is in motion, there will be no turning back." Kevan wiped sweat from his brow and looked uneasily at his brothers. "Tywin, I think this plan... is a bit too risky."
Tywin's gaze followed the curve Tyrion had traced on the map, his face growing darker.
(To be continued.)
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