Standing atop the Tower of Joy, Arthur watched the retreating figures of the wildling chieftains hurrying down the stone steps. He turned to face the many eyes focused on him inside the room and issued orders methodically.
"Penrose, ready the horses. We are returning to the Mountain Corps encampment."
"Yes, Ser," Penrose replied, hurrying out of the room.
"Lord Dagos, Ser Mors, Ser Dickon. Once you return to Kingsgrave, use ravens to send out the letters I gave you to the other Marcher lords."
The content of Arthur's letters was a warning to the Marcher lords about an imminent wildling invasion, advising them to heighten their vigilance.
Furthermore, he invoked their obligations, ordering them to heed his summons as Governor of the Dornish Marches and send levies to assemble at the Mountain Corps encampment to suppress the wildlings of the Red Mountains.
Dagos stood up immediately. "Yes, Governor."
As soon as he finished speaking, his two sons, Mors and Dickon, spoke almost in unison. "My Lord, we wish to remain by your side and await your command."
Arthur raised an eyebrow and looked at Dagos. Seeing an awkward smile appear on the Earl's face, Dagos quickly added, "If the Governor is willing, let them stay and serve you."
Arthur was in need of capable men and naturally wouldn't refuse. "It would be my honor. The two Sers shall ride with me shortly."
Having settled matters with the Manwoody family, Arthur turned to Franklyn Fowler. Before he could speak, the Old Falcon preempted him.
"I will summon my vassals and raise levies to strengthen the security of the Prince's Pass, ensuring every watchtower along the route is garrisoned."
"I will also send scouts and spies into the Red Mountains to track wildling movements and gather intelligence. I'll prepare all necessary war supplies and handle logistical support."
Arthur nodded inwardly. The Old Falcon's political awareness was high; he even knew to answer before the question was asked.
"I will mobilize supplies from the Torrentine valley to lighten the burden on the Prince's Pass," Arthur added.
The Old Falcon stroked his beard, looking visibly relieved. "That would be best."
With tasks assigned, the group exited the Tower of Joy. Arthur mounted Violet, glanced back at the domed tower and the stone cairns, then spurred his horse toward the Mountain Corps encampment.
The encampment was located on a hill about a league north of Skyreach.
The hill was named Falcon Hill due to the abundance of falcons, hawks, and other raptors nesting on the nearby cliffs of the Red Mountains.
The Mountain Corps camp was built around a small holdfast atop Falcon Hill. A river flowed down from the mountains southeast of the castle, forming a waterfall and pool before continuing east past Kingsgrave and eventually emptying into the Sea of Dorne.
When Arthur arrived, the camp was already taking shape. Over twenty wooden barracks had been erected, surrounded by a wooden palisade.
Conscripted craftsmen and soldiers were busy building stone watchtowers with bricks and rocks.
"Open the gates! Move the cheval de frise!" The squad leader guarding the camp gate saw Arthur's party approaching and immediately ordered the new recruits, who looked like they wanted to stop and question the arrivals, to clear the way.
The squad leader rushed forward and saluted. "Lord Arthur, Ser Barton and Captain Bear Dee are in the main tent. Shall I guide you?"
Arthur dismounted and handed the reins to Penrose. "Lead the way."
Entering the main tent, the guard lifted the flap for him.
Arthur saw two soldiers at a table in the center of the tent, meticulously constructing a sand table based on gathered intelligence.
"Have any wildling chieftains come to surrender with hostages?" Arthur asked.
"Not yet," Ser Barton shook his head.
"However, news of your intent to purge the Red Mountains and the impending wildling invasion has likely spread throughout the Dornish Marches. We've all received the letters from Kingsgrave."
"It's still early," Arthur said. "Let the matter ferment a while longer."
Releasing news of the campaign against the wildlings was partly about the campaign itself, but more about observing the attitude of the other Marcher lords toward him as Governor.
As he had said before, whether it was suppressing wildlings or garrisoning the Prince's Pass, the goal was to solidify his title and gain the support of the Marcher lords.
Arthur stationed himself at the Mountain Corps encampment. Through Keenwing, he observed the locations of the wildling settlements in the Red Mountains near the Prince's Pass, having soldiers mark each one on the sand table.
A month passed quietly.
Marcher lords began to respond to Arthur's summons, sending troops to the encampment.
Besides soldiers from nearby Skyreach and Kingsgrave, the first to arrive was a detachment from House Caron of Nightsong at the northern end of the Prince's Pass. Ser Rolland Storm led a force of over fifty men.
Rolland had reached the semifinals of the joust at the Starfall Tourney, eventually losing to Gerold Dayne.
Next came Ser Carlo, leading over a hundred men from Blackmont, escorting a convoy of logistical supplies gathered from the Torrentine valley.
Seeing Ser Carlo's flat, pie-like face and his body, which had grown even rounder since becoming Acting Lord of Blackmont, Arthur couldn't help but think of the split-open Arron. He appointed Carlo as Quartermaster.
The Old Falcon's arch-rival, Lord Anders Yronwood, sent his son, Ser Cletus Yronwood, with a retinue of six men.
"Governor, I offer sincere greetings on behalf of my father." Cletus bowed, slapping his breastplate loudly.
"Although I bring only six men, each is a warrior worth ten Fowler soldiers. And we will execute your orders without discount."
Arthur looked at Cletus and felt a headache coming on. He understood why Anders only sent seven people—House Yronwood and House Fowler were blood enemies; sending anyone at all was already giving Arthur face.
But sending Cletus, this restless troublemaker? What was the meaning of that?
Arthur said gruffly, "Is that so? Then I'll give you an order: no whoring."
Cletus's face froze, and his proudly held head drooped instantly. "My Lord, you even manage whoring? That... that is a private matter..."
"You just said you would execute my orders without discount." Arthur glared at him, then relented slightly.
"Fine. Since you think that's too difficult, I'll give you a simpler one. Command the six soldiers you brought well. Don't cause trouble or break rules. My camp is not like other places."
Cletus looked relieved and straightened up. "Yes, my Lord!"
Arthur turned to the Quartermaster working at a desk nearby. "Ser Carlo, arrange barracks for them as far away from the Fowler soldiers as possible."
Shortly after, Ser Barton lifted the tent flap and entered. "My Lord, troops from House Tarly of Horn Hill and House Peake of Starpike have arrived from the Prince's Pass road."
"Just receive and arrange them as standard," Arthur said, puzzled. "Is there something unusual? Did they bring a large force? Or was there a conflict?"
Ser Barton looked slightly incredulous. "Not a large force, but the sentries report that the commander of this detachment is Earl Randyll Tarly himself!"