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"THERE ARE MEN IN YOUR HARBOR! Men holding that harbor for the king that killed your heir! The king who killed Rickard and Brandon Stark! The Prince who kidnaps betrothed ladies and uses and kills his Princess wife!"
Jon Arryn stood on his gray spotted destrier before his thousand-strong force of mounted Knights of the Vale. His wrinkled, pale face turned red with the passion of his voice.
Robert was sure hat they only needed five hundred or so to take the port town. The Knights of the Vale were no everyday soldiers. In the older days of Westeros, it took years to be a Knight and some men stayed squires their entire lives. To be a knight, one actually had to exhibit qualities of knight. During the newer era of Robert's life, one only had to have squired a while and be a man grown. Few men actually hat the true hearts of knights, Robert considering himself one of them. He may be a bit rough around the edges, but he knew he meant good. He would never harm women. He protected the innocent. All those things.
Even if he was not a Knight, he could imagine not doing those things. Besides all that, the Knights of the Vale were an elite force of all true knights and their specially chosen squires. Knights who could fight. Friendly loyal men who honored all their vows. Not that Robert could speak of vows. Many of his actions contradicted things he had sworn or his father before him. Of course the most prominent would be this rebellion. He kept telling himself that it was for the welfare of the people, but he knew it was for Lyanna.
"Are we going to let these men hold up on our land uses our resources for a king we will no longer bow to? Today, we will weed out these oathbreaking, disloyal, spineless pigs. The Vale will not split today, men. The Vale will be one as it has been since the dawn of time."
Robert watched as the knights held up their swords and screamed the names of their homes with a blind fervor. The heat of battle was approaching and it had intoxicated them all. Robert didn't raise his sword and cry for the Vale. Though he had grown up here, he was still no Valeman, nor did he bow to Jon Arryn. He and Jon were equals. Lords in their own right. And now, without Aerys, they were as good as kings of their kingdoms. Only Robert was here and the Stormlands was a month's journey away.
Robert wasn't fighting for the Vale, he thought with sour distaste as he rode from the Bloody Gate due east to Gulltown with Jon Arryn, Yohn Royce and the other Lords in the Vale. The force of knights that rode after them were hungry for battle. That was what Robert liked about them. Leading an army of soldier was like corralling chicken. It wasn't hard if you fed them and threatened them, but gods, you knew that they didn't want to fight. That they'd sooner shit their pants than draw a sword.
