The bells of the Starry Sept rang out melodiously, their deep bronze tones echoing over Oldtown, passing through streets and canals, startling the pigeons nesting on the rooftops.
Lord Leyton Hightower rarely opened the heavy oak doors today, leaving the top of the Hightower.
This old man, known as the Old Man of Oldtown, walked slowly down the spiral stone stairs, supported by his attendants, to attend this internal meeting of House Hightower.
Beside the long table, the core members of House Hightower had already gathered.
Baelor Hightower, Leyton's eldest son and heir, the actual administrator of Oldtown, sat on one side of the long table with a grave expression.
He pushed the letter from the Westerlands, sealed with the golden lion wax, to the center of the long table:
"What does Tywin Lannister mean by this? In the name of the Baratheon royal family, he has abolished the titles of Lord Paramount of The Reach and Warden of the South held by House Tyrell."
"More importantly, why does he want to bestow the title of Warden of the South upon us Hightowers?"
The people at the long table frowned.
Everyone understood that this was by no means a free lunch falling from the sky.
Tywin must have a far-reaching plan in doing this.
It might even be a conspiracy aimed at House Hightower.
But they could not analyze Tywin's specific intentions from it.
Their gazes gathered unanimously on the old man at the head of the table.
Leyton Hightower, Lord of the Hightower, the true master of Oldtown.
He was already very old, but no one would ignore his wisdom, just like their family motto "We Light the Way"; this old man was the lighthouse guiding them when they were lost.
"Father, what do you think?" Baelor spoke first.
Leyton Hightower coughed lightly, his voice hoarse, but his words were clear: "That old lion from Casterly Rock has played a formidable move."
He reached out his hand, and Baelor, understanding, hurriedly handed the letter to his father.
Leyton did not look at the letter; he had already read it.
He just rubbed the edges of the letter paper with his fingers, as if weighing its importance.
"Tywin Lannister has played a good hand. Using the name of the Baratheon royal family to command the lords of the four corners."
"And now, with this letter, he has forced us Hightowers into a dead end."
When these words were spoken, the whole room was shocked.
Baelor looked confused: "A dead end? Father, what do you mean by this? Tywin abolished House Tyrell. Although he bestowed the title of Warden of the South upon us, I don't know what his plan is, but it shouldn't be a dead end, right?"
Leyton coughed again and placed the letter gently on the table: "Not a dead end? Then let me ask you, in whose name did Tywin abolish the Tyrells?"
Baelor, though puzzled, answered honestly: "On the charge that the Tyrells unauthorizedly diverted grain to support Aegon Targaryen."
"And what charge did Tywin bestow upon Aegon Targaryen?"
Baelor spoke again: "Tywin calls Aegon a traitor who led foreign troops to invade Westeros and a heretic who tampered with the faith of the Seven. He sent ravens to the Seven Kingdoms, calling on all nobles to raise troops to fight. We also received that letter."
Leyton nodded: "Then tell me now, Tywin has branded the Tyrells as accomplices of the Targaryens and sent such a letter, what is his purpose?"
Baelor frowned and thought for a moment: "To force us Hightowers to make a choice?"
"Correct." Leyton's voice carried a calmness that saw through everything, "This is an open maneuver. Forcing us Hightowers to oppose the Targaryens."
Baelor was still confused: "But Father, we are far away in The Reach, we can just sit and watch Tywin and that Aegon fight to the death, why are we being forced into a dead end?"
Leyton looked at this son who still did not fully understand, sighed in his heart, and could only explain in detail:
"If Tywin had simply used the royal order to command us in The Reach, we could have just ignored it and paid no heed."
"But the difficulty lies in… Tywin abolished the Tyrells on the charge of colluding with the Targaryens and appointed us Hightowers as the new Wardens of the South."
He paused, letting the weight of his words reach everyone: "When this letter reached our hands, House Hightower only had two paths to take."
"Either go to the Tyrells and explain clearly. But now Aegon Targaryen has touched the interests of all the nobles and has become the target of public criticism."
"The Tyrells have already been labeled as accomplices of the Targaryens. If we go to explain to the Tyrells, that is undoubtedly siding with the Targaryens in disguise."
"At that time, what will our situation be?"
Baelor's complexion changed.
"Then… what about the other path?"
"Draw a line with the Tyrells, and according to the meaning of this letter from Tywin, we Hightowers will be the first to draw a line with the Tyrells."
"Wouldn't that be doing exactly what Tywin wants?"
"This is Tywin's open maneuver." Leyton's voice was calm, but carried the shrewdness of one who had seen through the world, "He only used one letter to force us to make a choice."
"Either side with the Tyrells and immediately provoke an attack from the rest of The Reach. Or draw a line with the Tyrells, but this is undoubtedly siding with Tywin in disguise, and becoming an enemy of the Targaryens in disguise."
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the top of his cane: "Tywin used only one letter to throw The Reach into chaos."
"Leaving us Hightowers in a dilemma. Even if we comply with this decree, we will be met with hostility from other families—Florent, Rowan, Peake."
"Do you think they will be convinced that we should sit in this position?"
Baelor gritted his teeth: "Why exactly did Tywin do this?"
"Nothing more than to disrupt The Reach, so that we cannot submit to the Targaryens."
"But what kind of situation has he put us Hightowers in?!"
"Do you think Tywin cares about that?" Leyton's voice carried a hint of mockery.
Baelor took a deep breath: "Father, then what should we do? Go to the Tyrells and explain clearly?"
"That is courting death!" Leyton's voice suddenly became a few degrees sterner, "Families like the Florents, Peakes, and Rowans were already unhappy with the Tyrells' rise."
"The Tyrells were once just stewards for House Gardener, relying on surrendering to Aegon the Conqueror to become the supreme leaders of The Reach and Wardens of the South."
"Now that they have this order from Tywin, they have even more excuses to oppose, or perhaps even directly raise troops to attack the Tyrells."
"If we stand on the Tyrells' side now, we are asking for trouble."
His tone softened slightly: "Moreover, Aegon Targaryen's policies have touched the interests of all the nobles. Reclaiming the right to conscript, the right to tax, the right to administer justice, and centralizing all power in the hands of the royal family… this is the common enemy of all our lords."
"The nobles of The Reach were already dissatisfied when the Tyrells supported Aegon with grain, but because the Tyrells were their liege lords, and they had no name or reason, they just kept watching."
"Now Tywin has given them a justifiable excuse to crusade against the Tyrells. At this time, if we stand on the Tyrells' side, we are jumping into a fire pit."
Baelor slapped the table in frustration: "Then what do we do? Really follow Tywin's wishes and become this Warden of the South, and then provoke the hostility of those people towards us?"
Leyton was silent for a moment, then spoke slowly: "If the Hightowers don't want to be buried with the Tyrells, we can only take this path. However… since Tywin is forcing us to make a choice, we might as well do it more thoroughly."
Everyone looked at him.
"Our original attitude was to watch and wait, to wait until Aegon Targaryen and those lords in the North decided the outcome of the war before making a choice."
"But now that Tywin is forcing us to make a choice, we might as well accept the title and draw a line with the Tyrells."
His gaze swept across the long table, his voice carrying the coldness of determination: "Since we are already enemies with the Targaryens, we will no longer remain on the sidelines. It is time for The Reach to raise its troops."
"We will present Tywin with a great gift… raising troops to oppose the Targaryens."
"As long as the Targaryens are driven out of Westeros, House Hightower will not only avoid those troubles but will also gain tangible benefits."
"Supreme leaders of The Reach, Wardens of the South, we will solidify this position."
Baelor was shaken, and a flash of light seemed to pass through his eyes—it was ignited ambition: "Father means… raise troops to oppose the Targaryens?"
"Use the title Tywin gave us to rally the lords of The Reach, and use the external war to alleviate the contradictions between us and other families?"
"Correct."
"We will raise the banner of crusading against heresy and preserving hereditary privileges, pulling everyone's focus away from the dispute over who sits as Warden of the South, and back to the practical matter of protecting their own lands and power."
"We Hightowers are only leading the banner, not trying to swallow all the benefits of The Reach alone."
"But… will those families agree?"
Leyton's gaze was as deep as an ancient well: "They will definitely agree. Aegon Targaryen's policies threaten the foundation of everyone."
"With this order from Tywin as a banner, and with the justification of crusading against heresy and traitors, the nobles of The Reach will have an outlet for their grievances. As long as we are the first to raise this banner, they will follow."
He looked at Baelor: "You go write a letter. In my name, as Lord of the Hightower in Oldtown, invite the noble lords from all over The Reach to Oldtown to discuss major matters."
Baelor's emotions were completely ignited by his father's words.
Perhaps House Hightower could really use this opportunity to rise and solidify that position.
Just as everyone was preparing to get up and dismiss the meeting, Leyton's voice sounded again:
"I heard that the High Septon of King's Landing has also fled to The Reach with those believers, and has fled to our Oldtown."
Baelor stopped his steps: "Yes, Father. That High Septon is indeed in Oldtown."
Leyton's fingers rubbed gently on the top of his cane, a thoughtful expression appearing on his aged face: "Invite him over. I have important matters to discuss with the High Septon."
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