Game of thrones: the Sunblode rise

Chapter 52: Secrets Beneath the Surface

While the main forces clashed at the Red Fork, the quieter currents of war carried their own perils. Far from the roar of battle, alliances were forged, trust was tested, and schemes were hatched in the shadows. In the Riverlands, not all loyalties were as steadfast as they seemed, and Ivar Sunblode knew that enemies within could be just as dangerous as those without.

Lysa Blackthorne's spies had been busy in the wake of the Red Fork ambush. While Timothy's enhanced soldiers decimated Tywin's rear lines and Roland's archers held the crossings, her network had intercepted whispers of a troubling conspiracy brewing among the Riverland lords.

One name kept resurfacing: Lord Fenton Darry, a proud but pragmatic man whose lands lay close to Riverrun. Known for his ambition and sharp tongue, Lord Darry had always walked a fine line between loyalty and self-interest.

In the aftermath of the Red Fork victory, Lysa brought her findings to Ivar. They met in his private solar, a small room where the fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.

Ivar sat at his desk, reviewing reports of the battle's aftermath. His sharp eyes flicked up as Lysa entered, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. She closed the door behind her, ensuring their conversation would remain private.

"What is it?" Ivar asked, setting the parchment aside.

"We have a problem," Lysa said, wasting no time. She placed a rolled-up parchment on the desk. "Lord Darry. My spies intercepted correspondence between him and one of Tywin's agents."

Ivar's jaw tightened as he unrolled the parchment. The coded message was brief but damning:

"Loyalty is fleeting, as is power. Consider your options before the tides shift further. We will ensure your position is secure when Riverrun falls."

"He's playing both sides," Ivar said, his voice low but cold.

"More than that," Lysa replied. "He's hedging his bets. If we lose, he wants to be in Tywin's good graces. But even now, his uncertainty undermines the Accord. Other lords look to him for guidance. If he falters, they might follow."

Ivar leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. Darry's betrayal wasn't just a personal affront—it was a threat to everything they had built.

"Do we have proof?" he asked.

Lysa nodded. "My spies are thorough. They've traced the messenger back to Darry's keep. He's been in contact with Tywin's agents for weeks, feeding them information about our troop movements and defenses."

Ivar clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking softly. "If the other lords find out about this, it could fracture the Accord. But if we do nothing, he'll keep working against us from within."

"That's why we need to act now," Lysa said. "Quietly. If we confront him directly, it could push him further into Tywin's arms. But if we handle this delicately, we can cut him off from Tywin without exposing the rift."

"How?" Ivar asked, his gaze locking onto hers.

"Let me handle it," Lysa said. Her voice was steady, but her eyes gleamed with a cold intensity. "I'll confront Darry personally, with a team of spies to back me up. We'll present the evidence, give him a chance to come back into the fold. But if he refuses…"

She let the sentence hang, her meaning clear.

Ivar nodded slowly. "Do it. But be careful. Darry's not a fool, and he'll have his own men watching for trouble."

"I always am," Lysa said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

She left that night with a small contingent of her most trusted spies. The journey to Darry's keep was uneventful, the quiet roads betraying nothing of the danger ahead.

When they arrived, Lysa was greeted by one of Darry's stewards, a nervous man who escorted her to the lord's solar.

Lord Fenton Darry stood by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the evening light. He turned as Lysa entered, his expression one of polite curiosity.

"Lady Blackthorne," he said, his voice smooth. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Lysa studied him carefully, noting the subtle tension in his posture, the flicker of unease in his eyes. "I wanted to speak with you privately, my lord," she said, her tone even. "There are matters of great importance we need to discuss."

Darry gestured to a chair by the fire. "Please, sit."

Lysa remained standing. "I'd rather get to the point."

Darry's smile faltered, his unease growing. "Very well. What is it you wish to discuss?"

Lysa stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Your recent correspondence with Tywin Lannister. My spies intercepted one of his messengers."

Darry's face froze, his practiced charm slipping. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Lysa held up the intercepted message. "Don't insult my intelligence, Fenton. We have the proof. The only question is what we do with it."

Darry's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists. "You have no right to accuse me of treason. I've done nothing to harm the Accord."

"Then why are you in contact with Tywin's agents?" Lysa demanded, her voice cold. "Why are you feeding him information about our defenses?"

Darry took a step back, his eyes narrowing. "I did it to protect my people. Tywin's forces are everywhere, burning villages, killing innocents. If Riverrun falls, what happens to us? I have to think about the survival of my house."

"You think Tywin will protect you?" Lysa asked, her voice sharp. "You're nothing but a pawn to him. If you betray the Accord, he'll discard you the moment you're no longer useful."

"And if the Accord fails?" Darry shot back. "What then? I'm supposed to throw away everything I've built for a lost cause?"

"This isn't just about you," Lysa said, stepping closer. "The Riverlands depend on us. If you falter, you weaken all of us. But if you stand with us, we can win this war."

Darry hesitated, his expression conflicted. "And if I refuse?"

Lysa's gaze hardened. "Then I'll make sure you don't get the chance to betray us."

The room fell silent, the tension between them crackling like a drawn bowstring. Finally, Darry exhaled, his shoulders sagging. "What do you want from me?"

"Your loyalty," Lysa said. "Prove it by cutting off all contact with Tywin's agents. Swear your allegiance to the Accord, and we'll let this matter rest. But if you cross us again…"

Darry nodded reluctantly. "You have my word."

As Lysa left the keep, her spies close behind, she couldn't shake the feeling that Darry's promise was a fragile one. Back at Riverrun, she reported her findings to Ivar.

"He's back in line—for now," she said. "But we'll need to keep a close eye on him. If he falters again, we might not get another chance to stop him."

Ivar nodded, his expression grim. "Then we'll be ready."

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