Chapter 357: Night Attack on Summerhall


    At dusk, a red-haired, red-bearded knight in a red cloak led a small group of soldiers on patrol around the outer perimeter of Summerhall. He looked rather at ease, a cigarette dangling from his lips. This knight was Ro, often called "Red Ro" due to his fiery beard. He was a cousin of Jon Connington.


    After Jon Connington’s defeat at the Battle of the Bells, House Connington’s seat, Griffin’s Roost, had passed to Ro’s father, Ronald, but he died not long after, leaving the castle to his son. Now, Ro held Griffin’s Roost, though his position in the Stornds was far from secure.


    Viserys'' sudden rise had causedplications for Ro. Jon Connington, still in Tyrosh at the time, had revealed his true identity, no longer hiding that he was the former Hand of the King. This revtion stirred trouble for Ro, as House Connington had been staunch royalists during the War of the Usurper. After Robert''s victory, they had surrendered and were allowed to keep their castle, but their titles were stripped, and theirnds reduced.


    Determined to restore his family’s lost glory, Ro threw himself into the most dangerous missions, believing that if he survived the "Viserys Rebellion," his loyalty would be rewarded, and his family''s honor restored.


    As Ro drifted into his daydreams, an icy voice interrupted his thoughts.


    “Ser Ro, you''re back early,” said the voice. “I recall the patrol route I assigned you. It shouldn’t have brought you back before sunset. Have youpleted it properly?”


    It was Loras Tyrell, Renly’s sworn protector and closest confidant. Renly had entrusted much of the militarymand to Loras, giving him considerable authority in the camp. Though Loras held no formal title of his own, he had enough influence to keep others in line.


    Startled, Ro quickly spat out the cigarette. The stub hit the ground with a small shower of sparks.


    “Where did you get this?” Loras asked sharply.


    “Ser Loras... a friend brought it from King’s Landing,” Ro stammered.


    Loras’ mouth curled in disgust before he pped Ro hard across the face. The crack of the p echoed in the empty courtyard.


    "You do realize this cigarette was made by that Targaryen scum, Viserys, don’t you? And yet you still smoke it? Do you not see that every cigarette you light today will be an arrow aimed at us tomorrow?"


    Ro''s head snapped to the side from the blow, but he dared not protest. He had always been something of a weak-willed man, despite his outward bravado. His father, Ronald, had once even considered marrying him to "the beautiful Brienne of Tarth," but not only had Ro lost to her inbat, he had also been humiliated for his poor manners and bad breath. That defeat had left asting mark on him.


    “Patrol the woods over there again!” Ro barked, storming off in frustration. His anger simmered—Renly was in Summerhall, and there was nothing he could do about it. Furious and humiliated after his encounter with Loras, Ro led his men into the woods north of Summerhall.


    Meanwhile, in the forest just beyond the camp at Summerhall...


    "Brother, do you think there could be any leftover dragon eggs inside Summerhall?" Dany asked, her gaze fixed on the army encampment below.


    "Why? Seven dragons aren''t enough for you now?" Viserys replied with a smirk.


    "Of course not! The more the merrier. I read in a book that dragons don’t usually grow this fast. I was thinking, if we give Aemon a young dragon to care for, it might keep him entertained."


    Viserys chuckled. "Where do you expect to find dragon eggs these days? Wealthbringer hatched from a fossil, and here you are,ining we don’t have enough!"


    They bantered yfully, as if this were all a game. But then Quentyn, who had been keeping watch, suddenly stiffened.


    "Your Grace, someone’sing our way!" he warned.


    Viserys’ demeanor shifted instantly. "I’ll take them head-on. You two, nk them from behind!" He made the decision swiftly, and the three moved into position.


    Though Dany’s skill with a sword was still developing, she had be quite adept with fire magic. She could handle an opponent on her own without much trouble. Quentyn, meanwhile, was apetent swordsman, but Viserys was the true force among them.


    As for Ro, he was still fuming over Loras’ earlier p. While he dared not retaliate, he had no problem venting in front of his men.


    “That pompous ass! If he doesn’t stay in bed guarding Renly, what’s the point of him being out here? Sooner orter, he’s going to be burned alive by that Targaryen dragon!”


    His guards chuckled, but one dared to speak up. "But, my lord, if Renly’s burned, doesn’t that mean Viserys wins?"


    Ro sneered. "What’s there to worry about? My uncle is Hand of the King to Viserys now. If anyone dies, it’ll be the Baratheons, not me."


    He spoke viciously, not expecting an answer from anyone outside his group.


    “Well said!” came a sudden voice from the trees, unfamiliar to Ro’s men. Instantly, they drew their swords, eyes darting around in rm.


    "Who goes there?!"


    Before anyone could react, an arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in the throat of a soldier reaching for his rm whistle. He fell to the ground, gurgling hisst breath as panic spread through Ro’s group.


    "Aren''t you looking for Viserys? Well, here I am."


    With that, Viserys stepped out from behind the tree, his unmistakable silver hair glinting in the fading light, a symbol of his royal lineage.


    "You''re Viserys?" Ro scoffed, unimpressed. "Hmph! Then I''ll just take you in myself!"


    Ro didn’t care if this really was Viserys. To him, it was a prize he’d stumbled upon during his patrol. At hismand, the guards nking him raised their shields and charged forward.


    But the fight didn’t go as expected.


    Viserys moved with blinding speed. A swift left front kick, followed by a sharp right whip kick, sent the two shield-bearers reeling, their weapons ttering to the ground. Before they could recover, Viserys was already upon Ro, his sword raised. The speed at which he moved was almost too fast for the human eye to follow.


    The remaining soldiers rushed forward to defend their master, but were abruptly blocked by two figures—medium-sized but unyielding: Dany and Quentyn.


    “What? Still don’t believe I’m Viserys?” Viserys asked, his voice calm but menacing.


    "Y-Yes! I believe you!" Ro stammered, swallowing hard.


    "Good. Now tell me, who’s in Summerhall right now?"


    Ro hesitated, but the first name he mentioned made Viserys’ eyes light up with pleasant surprise.


    "Renly is in Summerhall?" Viserys asked, intrigued. "And what is he doing there?"


    Ro nervously chuckled. "He...he said he wanted to meet the enemy head-on. Not like Stannis, who’s holed up in Storm’s End like a turtle."


    <em>That sounds just like Renly,</em> Viserys thought.


    "Is Loras with him?" Viserys pressed.


    "Yes, Your Grace. Loras is with him! You can see for yourself—I owe him a lot!"


    Viserys’ eyes gleamed. "Take me into Summerhall."


    "Huh?" Ro blurted, startled.


    "Brother!" Dany interjected sharply.


    "Your Grace!" Quentyn added, his tone filled with concern.


    Without hesitation, both of them vetoed Viserys'' decision.


    "Brother, you promised Aemon you wouldn’t take unnecessary risks," Dany reminded him, her voice steady but urgent. "This is too dangerous!"