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The moonlight cast long shadows over the assembled Dornish forces as they gazed upon Casterly Rock. The ancient fortress loomed before them, its stone walls seeming to merge with the cliff face itself. Oberyn Martell stood at the front of his commanders, his dark eyes studying the castle with a mixture of respect and calculation.
"Magnificent beast, isn't it?" he mused, twirling his spear absently. "Now I understand why the Lannisters have been so insufferably proud all these centuries."
"The Kingslayer's information proved true about Crakehall and Tarbeck Hall," Nymeria said, checking her crossbow's mechanism with practiced precision. "Three thousand men left in the Westerlands, and most holed up in there like rats."
"Speaking of rats," Oberyn smiled, "it's time we used their own tunnels against them. Gather the chosen men. We move within the hour."
As Nymeria began selecting their companions, Obara stepped forward, her spear gripped tightly. "Father, I should be going with you."
"Not this time, daughter," Oberyn replied.
"Why Nym and not me?" Obara demanded, her face flushing with anger. "I'm the better fighter-"
"And that's precisely why you're staying here," Nymeria cut in, not looking up from coating her crossbow bolts with poison. "This isn't about fighting. It's about getting in without anyone knowing we're there."
"Are you saying I'm not capable of stealth?"
Nymeria finally looked up, her expression sardonic. "Sister, you're about as stealthy as a drunken auroch in a glassmaker's shop. Your idea of subtle is announcing yourself with only one war cry instead of three."
"We need you here," Oberyn interrupted before the argument could escalate. "If something goes wrong, if we're discovered, the main force will need to attack quickly. You and Tyene will lead that charge."
Tyene, who had been quietly observing, placed a hand on Obara's arm. "He's right. Besides, someone needs to keep these commanders in line. They're still not entirely comfortable taking orders from women."
"They'll get comfortable quickly enough," Obara growled, though her anger was already subsiding.
"Make them fear you more than they fear what's in that castle."
A soldier approached, bowing slightly. "Prince Oberyn, the men you requested are assembled."
"Good." Oberyn turned to Nymeria. "Are those bolts ready?"
"Yes," she replied, straightening up. "Enough concentrated manticore venom to drop a man before he can make a sound. Silent and quick."
"Like proper assassins," Tyene observed with a small smile.
"We're not assassins tonight," Oberyn corrected. "We're ghosts. The Lannisters wrote so many songs about their lions, they forgot about the snakes that can slip through the smallest cracks." He turned to the assembled men - all of them lean, quick, and deadly. "Remember - silence is our shield tonight. One wrong sound, one misplaced step, and we'll have two thousand Lannister soldiers on our heads."
"What about the guards in the tunnels?" one of the men asked. "The Kingslayer said there would be patrols."
"Leave them to me," Nymeria said, patting her crossbow. "They'll never know what hit them."
Oberyn studied the castle again, his expression turning serious. "The tunnel entrance should be behind that outcropping of rock, hidden beneath old mining equipment. According to Jaime, it leads directly to the lower levels of the castle. We'll need to move quickly once we're inside - the changing of the guard happens at midnight."
"And then?" another soldier asked.
"And then we open the Lion's Gate from the inside," Oberyn replied. "Once that's done, our forces can enter before they realize what's happening."
"If the Kingslayer's information is wrong..." Tyene began.
"Then we'll improvise," Oberyn finished. "It's what we do best, isn't it?"
"Some of us better than others," Nymeria smirked, glancing at Obara.
"Just try not to die in there," Obara grumbled. "I'd hate to have to storm that monster by myself."
"Your concern is touching, sister," Nymeria replied, checking her daggers one last time. "Though I suspect you're more worried about missing the fight than losing us."
"Can't it be both?"
"Enough," Oberyn said, though his eyes danced with amusement. "Time to move. Obara, Tyene - have the men ready. If you hear fighting from inside, don't wait for the gate to open. Hit them with everything we have."
"And if we don't hear anything?" Tyene asked.
"Then pray to whatever gods you believe in that we succeeded," Oberyn replied. He turned to his chosen team. "Move out. Stay close, stay quiet, and remember - we're not here for revenge tonight. We're here to take a castle."
As the small group began moving toward their target, Obara called out softly, "Father?"
Oberyn turned back.
"Make them bleed."
He grinned, white teeth flashing in the moonlight. "Don't I always?"
The group melted into the shadows, leaving Obara and Tyene watching the massive fortress. After a moment, Tyene spoke quietly, "They'll succeed."
"Of course they will," Obara replied gruffly. "Father's with them." She gripped her spear tighter. "But I still don't like waiting."
"Then let's make ourselves useful," Tyene suggested. "The men need to be positioned properly for the assault, and I saw some of them looking nervous earlier. Perhaps we should remind them why they fear Dornish women more than Lannister men?"
Obara's scowl transformed into a fierce grin. "Now that's the kind of waiting I can handle."
As they turned to their tasks, the small infiltration team was already approaching the hidden entrance, moving like shadows across the moonlit rock. Nymeria took point, her crossbow ready, while Oberyn brought up the rear, ensuring no one fell behind or made a noise.
The secret entrance was exactly where Jaime had said it would be, concealed beneath years of accumulated mining equipment and debris. As two men carefully cleared the way, Oberyn couldn't help but smile. The mighty Casterly Rock, about to be taken not by dragons or armies, but by a handful of snakes in the night.
"The Lannisters always did put too much faith in their walls," he whispered to himself. "They forgot that no fortress is stronger than its smallest secret."
The entrance cleared, Nymeria took one last look at the moonlit world before they descended into darkness. "Ready, Father?"
"Lead the way, daughter," Oberyn replied softly. "Let's go remind the lions why they should fear the dark."
One by one, they slipped into the tunnel, leaving only disturbed dust and silence behind them.
The tunnel was narrow and damp, barely wide enough for two men to walk abreast. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, each drop echoing ominously through the ancient passageway. Oberyn's team moved in single file, their footsteps carefully placed to avoid loose stones or debris.
Nymeria led the way, her crossbow ready. Behind her, a soldier carried a covered lantern, providing just enough light to navigate without betraying their presence. The dim illumination cast grotesque shadows on the rough-hewn walls.
"Hold," Nymeria whispered suddenly, raising her fist. The group froze instantly.
Footsteps echoed ahead - two sets, maybe three. The guards were approaching their position. Nymeria pressed herself against the wall, gesturing for the others to do the same. The lantern bearer quickly covered the light completely.
"...bloody waste of time, these patrols," a guard's voice drifted to them. "Nobody's used these tunnels in years."
"Lord Tywin's orders," another replied. "Besides, better than being out there in Dorne. I'm sure Lord Tywin has already burned Sunspear to the ground."
Oberyn's lips curved into a silent smile in the darkness. Three guards came into view, carrying torches that made them perfect targets. They hadn't even drawn their swords - clearly, they weren't expecting any trouble in these forgotten passages.
Nymeria's crossbow twanged softly. The first guard dropped without a sound, the poisoned bolt in his throat. Before the others could react, she had already reloaded and fired again. The second guard fell, clutching his chest.
The third guard opened his mouth to shout, but one of Oberyn's men was already there, a hand clamped over his mouth while another drove a dagger up under his ribs. The guard's torch clattered to the ground.
"Catch it!" Oberyn hissed.
A soldier lunged forward, grabbing the torch before it could hit the ground and possibly alert others. For a moment, only heavy breathing and the continuing drip of water broke the silence.
"Three less lions in the Rock," Nymeria murmured, retrieving her bolts. "Help me move them into that alcove."
They quickly concealed the bodies in a small side passage, positioning them so they wouldn't be immediately visible to any passing patrols.
"Time?" Oberyn asked softly.
"We should be nearly beneath the main keep," one of the men replied, consulting the crude map Jaime had drawn for them. "The access point to the dungeons should be just ahead."
"Good. Nym, take point again. Everyone else, remember - we're not here to kill unless we must. Our goal is the Lion's Gate mechanism. Everything else is a distraction."
They continued deeper into the tunnel system, the air growing mustier with each step. Twice more they encountered patrols, and twice more Nymeria's poisoned bolts found their marks before any alarm could be raised.
"Father," Nymeria whispered after the last encounter, "these patrols are too regular. They're not just guarding the tunnels - they're guarding something specific."
Oberyn nodded. "The Kingslayer mentioned a vault near here. Family treasures, he said. But that's not our concern tonight."
They reached a junction where the tunnel split into three paths. According to Jaime's instructions, the left passage would lead them to the gate mechanism, the right to the dungeons, and the center deeper into the Rock's depths.
"Left," Oberyn directed, but paused as torchlight suddenly appeared ahead of them. This time, it wasn't just a three-man patrol - the sound of multiple boots on stone echoed through the passage.
"At least six," Nymeria whispered, "maybe more."
"Too many to take quietly," one of the men added.
Oberyn's mind raced. They couldn't risk a fight here - the noise would alert the entire castle. But they couldn't go back, and the other passages might lead them too far.
"The side passage," he whispered, pointing to a narrow crack in the wall. "Quickly!"
One by one, they squeezed into the tight space, pressing themselves against the rough stone. Oberyn, being the last, could see the approaching torches clearly now. Eight men, all fully armed, led by a knight in Lannister colors.
"Check every passage," the knight was saying. "Tarlon wants the patrols doubled after those ships were spotted in Lannisport."
The group held their breath as the patrol passed their hiding spot. One guard paused, holding his torch closer to their passage.
Nymeria's crossbow was already aimed at his head.
"Ser!" another guard called. "Found something here - looks like blood."
The guard near their hiding spot turned away, following his companion's voice. They must have found traces from their earlier encounters.
"Move," Oberyn breathed as soon as the patrol's torchlight began to fade. "Before they raise the alarm."
They slipped out of their hiding place and hurried down the left passage, moving faster now that stealth was becoming less critical than speed. Behind them, they could hear shouting as the patrol discovered the hidden bodies.
"How much further?" Nymeria asked, reloading her crossbow as they ran.
"The access door should be just ahead," Oberyn replied. "Once we're through, it's a straight path to the gate mechanism."
The sound of bells began to ring above them.
"They're sounding the alarm," one of the men said unnecessarily.
Oberyn's smile was fierce in the darkness. "Then we'd better hurry. I believe that's our sign to stop being quiet and start being memorable."
"Finally," Nymeria grinned, switching her crossbow for her daggers. "I was getting tired of being subtle."
The chamber housing the Lion's Gate mechanism was larger than expected, a circular room dominated by an enormous bronze wheel mechanism that controlled the drawbridge. Torchlight flickered off the damp walls as Oberyn's group burst through the access door, immediately engaging the surprised guards.
"Take the stairs!" Oberyn shouted to Nymeria, his spear already claiming its first victim. "We'll hold them here!"
Nymeria darted toward the spiral staircase leading to the upper mechanism, while Oberyn and the others formed a defensive circle around the base. More Lannister guards were pouring in through the main entrance, their crimson cloaks swirling in the torchlight.
"The snakes are in the Rock!" a guard captain bellowed. "Kill them all!"
"Oh, but you don't understand. We're not just in your Rock..." His spear spun around like it was dancing, taking a guard through the throat. "We're in its very bones now. And like a disease, we'll spread through every crack, every crevice, until this mighty mountain rots from within." He advanced slowly, spear weaving hypnotic patterns. "Your ancestors built these walls to keep enemies out. But tell me - what do you do when the vipers are already inside your den?"
Above, Nymeria took the stairs two at a time, hearing boots thundering down from above. Two guards appeared around the curve of the stairwell, swords drawn. She didn't slow down.
The first guard thrust his sword forward, but Nymeria was already moving, sliding beneath the blade. Her first dagger opened his femoral artery while her second found the gap under his armpit. She pushed past him as he fell, using his falling body to block the second guard's view.
"Fucking Dornish whore!" the second guard snarled, swinging wildly in the confined space.
Nymeria's response was a thrown dagger that caught him in the throat. She retrieved her blade as she passed his corpse, continuing upward.
Below, the fight had turned brutal. Oberyn's spear was a blur of motion, each strike finding gaps in armor, each wound burning with poison.
"More coming from the south passage!" one of his men warned.
"Let them come," Oberyn replied, kicking a dying guard off his spear. "The more they send here, the fewer remain to guard the walls!"
Nymeria reached the top of the tower, bursting through the door into the mechanism room. Two more guards waited, positioned on either side of the great wheel. These were veterans, their stances perfect, their eyes cold.
"Surrender, girl," one said, "and we'll make it quick."
Nymeria smiled, blood dripping from her daggers. "I was about to offer you the same courtesy."
She moved before the last word left her lips, throwing a dagger at the right guard while diving toward the left. The thrown blade caught the right guard in the eye, while she rolled under the left guard's sword swing.
Coming up inside his guard, she slammed her remaining dagger up through the bottom of his jaw. Hot blood sprayed across her face as she twisted the blade.
"Not bad for a girl," she muttered, shoving his body aside and running to the wheel mechanism.
Below, Oberyn saw fresh troops arriving with crossbows. "Nym!" he shouted up the stairwell. "Now would be good!"
Nymeria grabbed the wheel, her muscles straining against the ancient mechanism. For a moment, it refused to move. Then, with a grinding screech that echoed through the chamber, it began to turn.
The sound of chains moving filled the air, accompanied by the deep rumble of the massive bridge beginning to lower. Nymeria continued turning the wheel, knowing she needed to lower it completely before the Lannister forces could stop her.
"The bridge!" someone shouted from below. "Stop her!"
"You'll have to get through us first," Oberyn called back cheerfully, his spear taking another life.
Crossbow bolts began flying up the stairwell, forcing Nymeria to press herself against the wheel as she worked. The mechanism groaned and shrieked, the sound of the lowering bridge now unmistakable.
In the distance, a horn blasted - Obara's signal that she'd seen the bridge moving. The main Dornish force would be charging forward now.
"Father!" Nymeria called down. "It's done!"
"Then get back down here," Oberyn replied, parrying a sword thrust. "Your sister will be arriving soon, and you know how she hates to miss her entering cries of war!"
Nymeria took one last look at the fully lowered bridge through the tower window, seeing the torches of the Dornish army already advancing across it. Then she turned and raced back down the stairs, daggers ready, grinning fiercely.
The Lions' den was open, and the snakes were about to flood in. Casterly Rock's long reign was about to end not with a roar, but with the quiet hiss of a viper's strike.
The massive bridge to Casterly Rock thundered with thousands of boots as the Dornish army surged forward. Torchlight illuminated the chaos, casting wild shadows across stone and steel. Obara led the charge, her spear raised high, with Tyene close behind her.
"UNBOWED! UNBENT! UNBROKEN!" The Dornish war cry echoed off the Rock's walls.
Lannister archers on the battlements loosed their first volley, arrows whistling through the night air. Shields raised quickly, forming a protective roof as the Dornish advanced. Some men fell, tumbling off the bridge into the darkness below, but the formation held.
"Shields! Hold formation!" Obara roared above the chaos. "Push forward!"
The Lannister defenders had assembled a hasty defense at the far end of the bridge, spears bristling. But they were disorganized, caught between defending the gate mechanism tower where Oberyn's group held position and stopping the main assault.
"Now, sister!" Obara called to Tyene.
Tyene's archers stepped forward through gaps in the shield wall, loosing their own volleys. Their arrows, each tip glistening with poison, found marks among the defending spearmen. Men began dropping, clutching their throats, the poison working quickly.
"They're breaking!" someone shouted. "Push through!"
The Dornish shield wall crashed into the Lannister line like a wave breaking on rocks. Steel met steel, screams and war cries mingling with the clash of weapons. Obara's spear claimed three lives in as many seconds.
"The tower!" Tyene shouted, pointing to where Oberyn's group was now fighting their way out of the gate mechanism tower, caught between two groups of Lannister soldiers.
"Fourth company, with me!" Obara commanded, leading a detachment to aid her father. Her spear took a Lannister soldier in the back as her force hit the tower defenders from behind.
Oberyn emerged from the doorway, his spear dripping red. "Took you long enough!" he called to his daughter, grinning despite the blood on his face.
"Nymeria?"
"Here!"
More Lannister troops were pouring out of the Rock now, trying to push the Dornish back across the bridge. But the initial surprise had given the attackers too strong a foothold. The bridge was too narrow for the defenders to bring their superior numbers to bear effectively.
"Hold the center!" Oberyn commanded, taking control of the battle. "Tyene, keep those archers firing! Obara, Nymeria, take your forces along the sides. Push them back into their own courtyard!"
The battle became a grinding push forward, inch by bloody inch. The Dornish fighters, lighter-armed and more agile, used the confined space to their advantage. Lannister knights in heavy armor found themselves hampered by the press of bodies, their traditional tactics useless in such close quarters.
A Lannister captain rallied his men for a countercharge, trying to split the Dornish line. Obara met him head-on, her spear finding the gap between his gorget and breastplate. As he fell, Tyene's poison-tipped arrows scattered his followers.
"The gate is ours!" someone shouted. The Dornish had pushed through to the actual gate structure, securing both sides of the bridge.
"Into the Rock!" Oberyn commanded. "Don't let them regroup! Obara, take the eastern passages. Nymeria, west. Tyene, secure this gate with your archers. No one gets in or out!"
The battle transformed from a bridge assault to urban combat as the Dornish forces poured into Casterly Rock's outer defenses. The confined passages and steep stairs that had once been the Rock's strength now worked against its defenders, preventing them from mounting an organized defense.
"Watch for ambushes!" Nymeria warned as they pushed deeper. "These lions know every corner of their den!"
But the Lannisters soldiers were in disarray, caught between multiple attacking forces. Some tried to surrender, while others fought to the death. The sounds of combat echoed through the ancient halls of Casterly Rock, the clash of steel mixing with screams and war cries.
Oberyn paused at a junction, watching his forces split into organized groups to secure different sections of the fortress. The Red Viper smiled, blood and torchlight making his expression demonic.
"The Rock hasn't fallen in hundreds of years," a captured Lannister officer spat at his feet.
"Then it's about time someone showed you lions how it's done," Oberyn replied, turning to continue the advance. "Dorne thanks you for the hospitality."
Obara led her forces through the eastern passages, torchlight casting long shadows as they advanced. The corridors here were a maze of stone, with steep stairs and sudden turns that made each step treacherous. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, mixing with the distant sounds of combat.
"Three passages ahead," her scout whispered, returning from a quick reconnaissance. "They've barricaded the center one."
Obara nodded, studying the branching corridors. "Which means that's where they're strongest. Split the force. Daemon, take your men left. I'll take the right. Let's make them worry about their flanks."
The Dornish fighters separated smoothly, moving with practiced silence. They'd trained for this kind of close-quarters combat in the twisted passages beneath Sunspear.
The first resistance came suddenly - crossbow bolts whistling out of a side passage. Two Dornish soldiers fell, but the others were already moving, shields up, closing the distance before the crossbowmen could reload.
Obara's spear found the first crossbowman through a gap between shields. The man died with surprise still on his face, probably wondering how she'd closed the distance so quickly. His companions dropped their crossbows, drawing swords, but in the narrow confines they were already too close.
"Push through!" Obara commanded, her spear a blur of motion. "Don't let them fall back to warn the others!"
The fighting was brutal and intimate in the tight space. There was no room for fancy swordplay or elaborate maneuvers. It came down to thrust, parry, strike.
A Lannister knight charged forward, his red cloak swirling. Obara caught his sword on her spear shaft, then stepped inside his guard. Her spear butt cracked against his helmet, stunning him. The spear point followed, finding the gap under his arm.
"They're falling back to the barricade!" someone called.
"Good." Obara's smile was fierce. "Daemon should be hitting their flank about-"
Screams erupted from the central passage, accompanied by the clash of steel. The Lannister defenders at the barricade suddenly found themselves caught between two attacking forces.
"Now!" Obara charged forward, her men following close behind.
The barricade - a hasty construction of furniture and debris - was already crumbling as defenders tried to face both threats. Obara vaulted over a broken table, her spear taking a man in the throat before her feet touched the ground.
"The snakes are through!" a Lannister officer shouted. "Fall back to the-"
He never finished the sentence. One of Daemon's men put a sword through his back.
The defenders broke, trying to retreat deeper into the Rock. But the narrow passages worked against them now. Those in front couldn't run without trampling those behind. Those in back couldn't fight effectively without room to swing their weapons.
"Keep pushing!" Obara drove her forces forward, maintaining pressure on the retreating defenders. "Don't let them regroup!"
They reached a larger chamber - some kind of storage room converted into a defensive position. Lannister troops had overturned tables and positioned archers behind them. A knight in elaborate armor stood before them, sword drawn.
"Hold here!" he commanded. "For Casterly Rock!"
"For Dorne!" Obara answered, engaging him directly while her forces spread out to handle the others.
The knight was good - excellent, even. His sword moved with precision and power. But Obara had trained with Oberyn Martell since she could walk. Her spear kept the knight at bay, probing for weaknesses.
He overextended slightly on a thrust. Obara's spear darted in, quick as a snake, finding the gap between breastplate and tasset. The knight stumbled, his sword dropping.
Behind him, the defensive line was collapsing. Daemon and his men had worked their way around the sides of the room, flanking the archers. The fighting devolved into individual duels, but the outcome was already decided.
"Eastern passages are ours!" Daemon called out, finishing the last defender. "But there's another barricade visible down that corridor."
Obara nodded, retrieving her spear from the fallen knight. "Then we'd better go introduce ourselves. Form up! Shields front!"
They pressed onward, deeper into the Rock's eastern wing. The sounds of battle echoed from other parts of the fortress - Nymeria's group in the west, Oberyn's forces in the center. Somewhere above, Tyene's archers would be securing the walls.
"Think your sisters are having as much fun as we are?" Daemon asked, falling in beside her.
Obara's laugh was sharp as her spear point. "Knowing them? They're probably racing to see who can claim the most kills. Speaking of which - I believe I'm ahead of you now."
"We only just started," Daemon replied as they approached the next barricade. "And there seem to be plenty of lions left to hunt."
The battle for Casterly Rock raged through every corridor and chamber. The two thousand Lannister defenders fought with desperate valor, but they were overwhelmed by the sheer number of Dornish fighters flooding through the breached defenses. The sound of steel on steel echoed through ancient halls that had never known defeat.
Oberyn led his force through the central passages, pushing toward the heart of the Rock. Bodies littered the stone floors - crimson cloaks and Dornish leather alike. Every intersection, every chamber became its own battlefield.
"Watch the high ground!" Oberyn called as arrows rained down from an elevated position. Three of his men fell before their own archers could respond.
The fighting grew more intense as they approached the central hall. Here, the remaining Lannister forces had concentrated their defense under their champion, Tanlor. The warrior stood nearly seven feet tall, wielding a greatsword that had already claimed several Dornish lives.
The central hall fell silent as Oberyn and Tanlor circled each other. The massive warrior's armor bore the marks of previous fights, but he moved with spide despite his size.
"Come face me, Viper!" Tanlor roared, cutting down two more attackers. "Or do snakes only strike from hiding?"
Oberyn stepped forward, spear spinning. "Since you ask so nicely..."
Their dance of death began with explosive violence. Tanlor's greatsword moved with impossible speed for its size, forcing Oberyn to give ground. The blade whistled past his face, close enough that Oberyn felt the wind of its passing.
"Not bad," Oberyn smiled, his spear probing for openings. "Though a bit slow."
Tanlor's response was a combination of strikes that drove Oberyn back several steps. The warrior's technique was flawless, each blow flowing into the next. "I've killed vipers before," he growled. "Cut them in half while they were still trying to strike."
Their weapons clashed again and again, steel ringing on steel. Oberyn's spear darted in, testing Tanlor's defense, but the big man's sword was always there to meet it.
Then Tanlor launched a devastating attack. His greatsword came in low, then high, then spun in a horizontal arc that should have been impossible for such a heavy blade. Oberyn barely managed to lean back, the sword's tip slicing through his leather armor but missing flesh by a hair's breadth.
"Almost," Tanlor's smile was chilling. "Do you feel it, Viper? The cold breath of the Stranger? He's been waiting for you since you left Dorne's warm sands."
But Oberyn was already moving, his spear a blur of motion. He slipped inside Tanlor's guard, forcing the warrior to backpedal. The Red Viper's true speed was finally revealed - the previous exchanges had been him studying his opponent.
"The Stranger will have to wait," Oberyn replied, his spear finding small gaps in Tanlor's armor, leaving shallow cuts. "I have an appointment with history first."
Tanlor roared and committed everything to one final, massive swing. The greatsword came down with enough force to shatter stone. But Oberyn wasn't there anymore. He spun past the blade and drove his spear up through the gap in Tanlor's armor at the armpit.
The massive warrior stumbled, his sword clattering to the ground as the poison took hold. His eyes widened, and he looked right at Oberyn.
"The... snake..." Tanlor managed before collapsing. "You were... faster than the others... and...better...than...me..."
The effect on the remaining defenders was immediate. Weapons clattered to the stone floor as Lannister soldiers dropped to their knees in surrender, knowing their champion had fallen to the Red Viper's deadly speed.
The effect on the remaining defenders was immediate. Weapons clattered to the stone floor as Lannister soldiers dropped to their knees in surrender.
"Secure them," Oberyn commanded, wiping his spear. "And find me every Lannister in this castle. I want them alive."
"Father!" Nymeria appeared from a side passage, blood splattered across her leather armor. "Tyene's been hurt."
Oberyn's heart clenched. "How bad?"
"Shoulder wound. She's with the healer now."
Oberyn found Tyene in a makeshift medical area, the healer already cleaning her wound. A long slash across her left shoulder, but not too deep.
"Just a scratch, Father," Tyene smiled weakly. "You should see the other man."
The healer looked up. "Clean cut, my prince. No poison, and it missed anything vital. She'll be fine with rest and proper care, but no fighting for at least two weeks."
Oberyn squeezed his daughter's good hand. "Rest then. You've done enough for today." He turned to survey his conquest. Casterly Rock finally fell to the vipers of Dorne.
The morning sun was starting to shine through the high windows, glinting off pools of blood and discarded weapons. The Rock had fallen.
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