[Lightning Strike]: Has a very small probability of causing a specified unit to be struck by lightning. (When used on a specified unit, if that unit lies, breaks an oath, or violates a sacred vow shortly before or after, the probability and power of the lightning strike will increase progressively according to the severity of the lie or oath-breaking.)
Well, well, well. An electronic lie detector, is it?
Is there electricity in this exposed wire? Let the old electrician touch it and find out.
Is this person lying? Let's see if the Heavens zap them, and we'll know.
After carefully reading the content and description of the Strategy Card [Lightning Strike], Arthur almost couldn't hold back a laugh. He quickly coughed a few times to cover it up.
As for why [Lightning Strike] was unlocked after he arrived at Blackhaven, the answer was revealed soon enough at the evening banquet.
Lord Beric Dondarrion stood on the dais, holding a silver-rimmed goblet, candlelight dancing on his handsome face.
"It was a night ravaged by storms..."
As he began to recount the legendary origin of House Dondarrion, the entire hall fell silent.
"It was a night ravaged by storms. My first ancestor was carrying a message through the Dornish Marches when suddenly an arrow flew out, striking his horse and throwing him to the ground.
"Two Dornishmen in ringmail and winged helms charged out of the darkness. My ancestor's sword had broken in the fall, and he could only wait for death."
Lord Beric's voice was deep and resonant as he vividly told the story passed down through House Dondarrion:
"Just as the Dornishmen were about to deliver the killing blow, a bolt of lightning split the sky. A brilliant, burning, forked lightning bolt struck the two iron-clad Dornishmen directly, killing them on the spot!
"My ancestor's message eventually won a victory for the Storm King against Dorne. To show his gratitude, the King raised him up as the first Lord Dondarrion. He chose a purple forked lightning bolt on a black field of stars as his sigil."
When Lord Beric finished his story, Arthur noticed Prince Quentyn gripping his dinner knife tightly, while Cletus Yronwood downed a large tankard of ale with a dark expression.
This story of House Dondarrion was widely known; Quentyn and Cletus had heard it before. But having Lord Beric tell it to their faces was still unpleasant.
Especially for Cletus. As the Warden of the Boneway, House Yronwood had historically had constant friction with the marcher lords.
Constrained by guest right, Cletus substituted ale for a sword and drank fiercely with Lord Beric.
Arthur sipped his wine, his gaze lingering on Lord Beric.
Besides the legendary origin of House Dondarrion, he knew that in the future, Lord Beric would die and be resurrected seven times.
You could say this house, and Beric himself, were miracles in the flesh.
Arthur drank a few cups with them, then quietly slipped away at a signal from Allyria.
The moonlit courtyard was quiet and peaceful, a stark contrast to the noisy banquet hall.
"Do you know how worried I was when I heard about your battles in the Ring?" Allyria grabbed Arthur by the shoulders and looked him up and down, tears shimmering in her eyes.
"I prayed for you every day in the sept here. And why did you make me stay at Blackhaven and not return to Starfall?"
Arthur felt warmth in his heart. While everyone else cheered for his achievements, only his family cared about the dangers he faced and whether he was hurt.
"The invaders of Starfall's territory were the Redwynes disguised as pirates. I couldn't retaliate directly, so I had to attack the Ring to escalate the situation," Arthur explained patiently in a calm voice.
"The Reach is too massive, and with the Redwyne Fleet, I wasn't sure if they would besiege Starfall. It was too dangerous, so I had you stay at Blackhaven."
"You see, the castle here is strong, neutral, and safe enough. Most importantly... Lord Beric is here."
Arthur gave a sly smile.
A blush appeared on Allyria's face, but she quickly put on her aunt-like airs. "Arthur, next time something like this happens, we can endure it. We can ask Sunspear or the Iron Throne to arbitrate. Don't risk your life again."
"Aunt Allyria, some justice can be requested from others, but some justice we must administer ourselves." Arthur shook his head and said seriously.
"Only by making those who dare to invade Starfall pay a sufficient price and learn a painful enough lesson can we be safe from unjust acts like the Redwynes' in the future."
Facing a serious Arthur, Allyria's aunt persona collapsed instantly. She sighed. "I can't out-talk you. Are you confident about facing the inquiry in King's Landing?"
She looked at Arthur with expectant eyes. "Should I go with you?"
Arthur's heart tightened at her look. Allyria going with him to King's Landing, that pit of vipers and power plays? It seemed like it would only distract him.
Thinking of this, Arthur chuckled dryly and changed the subject. "Aunt Allyria, how have you and Lord Beric been getting along? Is he someone worth entrusting yourself to?"
As expected, mentioning Beric diverted Allyria's attention. She pulled him aside and told him a heap of little anecdotes about her and Beric.
Listening to it all, Arthur summarized his aunt and Beric's relationship as: "Met by fate (and looks), loved for character."
Lord Beric's character was indeed solid. He was one of the few lords who truly upheld the knightly vows and cared for the smallfolk.
What was even more commendable was that even after dying seven times, his nature didn't change.
Arthur stayed at Blackhaven for two days, mainly because Quentyn and Cletus had drunk too much and needed a day to recover.
Then, their party of thirty continued north. It took them two days to reach the end of the Boneway—Summerhall.
Summerhall had once been a summer palace of House Targaryen, built to commemorate Daeron II's peaceful integration of Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms.
However, the palace had been destroyed in a great fire thirty years ago. All that greeted Arthur's eyes were ruins and broken walls.
Some places were still bare even after thirty years, the exposed ground a sickly greenish-black.
Septon Alester stood before the ruins, praying for the souls lost at Summerhall.
"I read some records about this place in religious texts," Septon Alester recounted to them after his prayer.
"Aerion Brightflame drank wildfire in a vain attempt to become a dragon, and only became a corpse."
"Aegon V tried to fulfill his dream of bringing dragons back to the world here. The wildfire went out of control, and he gained only ruins and ash."
"Only the current King Robert, during Robert's Rebellion, won three victories here in a single day. He defeated three royalist armies arriving to assemble one by one, conquering the stormlands bannermen with his strength and winning their support."
Cletus scoffed. "And then King Robert was defeated by Randyll Tarly at Ashford."
Quentyn just stared at the ruins silently, saying nothing.
Gerold poured his unsweetened lemon water onto the black-green earth and sighed. "This truly is a place of sorrow for the Targaryens."
Arthur withdrew his gaze from the ruins, glanced at his silent system panel, and added in his heart, And not a lucky place for me either.