YOUNG CORVETTO AND THE CANOPY BED SCANDAL

THIS POST IS A SEQUEL TO "SAVED FROM ARSENIC POISONING BY THE BELL!" IN WHICH, IN THE KINGDOM OF WIDE RIVER, YOUNG MANSERVANT CORVETTO SAVED HIS KING BENEDETTO FROM, OUI, CERTAIN ARSENIC POISONING - AND THE POISONER, A MARQUIS, SWALLOWED HIS OWN FIXED DRINK. OF COURSE HIS GRACE COULD NOT LEAVE THE LAD UNREWARDED AFTER SUCH A VALUABLE SERVICE TO THE CROWN...

This is a fragment from a retelling in Parcast Tales of a Pentamerone tale, "The Trials of Young Corvetto," so to picture yourself the fashion the characters are wearing and the artwork on the walls you must think mid-seventeenth century, Thirty-Years-War-era, in a Mediterranean heavily influenced by the Baroque and the Counter-Reformation.

Giambattista Basile became a courtier late in life (Count of Torone), after being most of his life a military officer. Though he was grateful for having to rest on his laurels, and for the patronage that allowed him to publish his tales and his sister Adriana to flourish as an opera singer (she also gleaned tales that are in the Pentamerone), stories like Corvetto's criticize the intrigue and politics of the royal palaces of his day, offering a glimpse of how jaded he was (compare H.C. Andersen's satirical depictions of courtly/royal life). The original Corvetto is littered with cynical asides lambasting political corruption. The original Corvetto opens thus: "Oh hapless the one who is condemned to live in that hell that goes by the name of court, where flattery is sold by the basket, malice and bad services measured by the quintal, and deceit and betrayal weighed by the bushel!"

"Aargh... Where did you learn to use your hands like this?" King Benedetto sighed as Corvetto kneaded the muscles of his back.

Corvetto's eyes were drawn to old battle scars criss-crossing the king's olive skin. Before the servant could ask, the king chuckled.

"Ha, ha, ha! Never be afraid to ask a warrior how he got his scars...We are the world's greatest sculptors, but we work in flesh, rather than marble. Our bodies are masterpieces."

Stories and ballads have been known to exaggerate the appearance of monarchs. Not so with the King of Wide River. Even when lying down, he was striking. And Corvetto could not help but agree that his body was a work of art. Still, the young man did not flatter or agree. Instead, he said:

"Your Grace, it has been some time since you drove the ogres from this land. Does a warrior's pride fade with age?"

Benedetto rolled over, forcing Corvetto to release his back.

"You're a clever one, Corvetto. But you have much to learn about what makes a king. Time passes, but there's still singing ballads about my deeds."

The conversation came to an end moments later, when one of the king's servants announced a visitor. Benedetto stood and covered himself with a cloak. Corvetto stepped out of the chamber and passed by two figures in jewelled robes, standing in the hallway: a man and a woman. The man had a thin skull-like face, with eyes set into their sockets like dull marbles. This was Viscount Niballo, one of the most influential men in the court. Standing at his side was a tall woman with hazelnut hair; Marchesa Agnella. She stared at Corvetto the same way one might look at a brown stain on a bedspread. Without a word, the two courtiers swept into the chamber.

Corvetto stood in the empty hallway for a moment, unsure of where to go. The rest of the court at the Palace of Wide River hated him, and, at first, he didn't understand why. He hadn't said anything rude or insulted the king. It took almost a year for Corvetto to understand. They hated him not because of anything he did, but because they had spent their lives toiling to be the king's most trusted ally, a position Corvetto had earned in a fraction of the time. It wasn't long before he started to notice traps laid for him around the palace. Just the other day he'd found a woman! The wife of a nobleman, waiting in his chambers, to ravish him! A naked ploy in both senses of the term... She'd clearly been hired to seduce him and cause a scandal. He paid her twice her fee to get rid of her.  

Not all the traps were so direct. Messages to him were intercepted, his garments were cut in compromising places, his chamber pot went neglected, and these tricks may have worked on a nobleman, but they would not work on a young man who grew dodging thieves, cutpurses, and con artists.

Corvetto was summoned back to the king's chambers shortly after his brush with the two courtiers. Upon entering, he noticed a change in Benedetto's expression. The king looked... eager. The viscount and the marchesa flanked him like gargoyles, eyes glinting wickedly. The king said:

"My dear Corvetto! I've just been given the most wonderful idea!"

SAVED FROM ARSENIC POISONING BY THE BELL!

This is a fragment from a retelling in Parcast Tales of a Pentamerone tale, "The Trials of Young Corvetto," so to picture yourself the fashion the characters are wearing and the artwork on the walls you must think mid-seventeenth century, Thirty-Years-War-era, in a Mediterranean heavily influenced by the Baroque and the Counter-Reformation.

Giambattista Basile became a courtier late in life (Count of Torone), after being most of his life a military officer. Though he was grateful for having to rest on his laurels, and for the patronage that allowed him to publish his tales and his sister Adriana to flourish as an opera singer (she also gleaned tales that are in the Pentamerone), stories like Corvetto's criticize the intrigue and politics of the royal palaces of his day, offering a glimpse of how jaded he was (compare H.C. Andersen's satirical depictions of courtly/royal life). The original Corvetto is littered with cynical asides lambasting political corruption. The original Corvetto opens thus: "Oh hapless the one who is condemned to live in that hell that goes by the name of court, where flattery is sold by the basket, malice and bad services measured by the quintal, and deceit and betrayal weighed by the bushel!"

There was no greater honour than a banquet invitation from the King of Wide River. Minor nobles sold their family heirlooms to afford the most expensive jewels and gowns. Commoners trained their sons to be the best cupbearers, in the hope that they would find themselves even serving at such an occasion! This pleased King Benedetto to no end. The members of his court bustled to and fro before him, a shifting rainbow of priceless fabric. Compliments poured in his ear from every angle, praising his kingdom as a vast improvement from the ogre tyrants that once ruled over this land.

Benedetto called out for another glass of wine. Before the servants could stir, the nobles tripped over themselves to fulfil the king's request. A goblet reached him, filled to the brim. He grinned, and raised his hand to drink... but someone seized his wrist. (GASPS FROM EVERYONE)

The chamber fell silent. Benedetto looked up in shock. It was a young servant! A tangle of dark brown hair poked from beneath his cap. His amber eyes were locked on the king, but not in fear... Before Benedetto could have him reprimanded, the young man said:

"Your Majesty, do not drink from this cup. The wine has been poisoned."

Benedetto snorted.

"Ha! Is that so? What makes you, a common boy, so certain of this?"

The young man replied:

"With all due respect, Your Grace, noble men and women grow up learning the intricacies of court life. Table manners, proper honorifics... So too does a common boy learn how to spot deadly intent in a crowd."

The youth pointed to a man, a red-faced marquis, keeping to the edge of the crowd. At the king's command, guards dragged the sweating nobleman forward. Without a word, the king handed him the cup. The man drank... and vomited blood all over the king's shoes. He dropped to the floor, convulsing and uttering half-choked curses. When he fell still, the king raised his eyes back to the young man.

"What is your name, clever servant?"

A wry grin spread across the young man's face.

"They call me... Corvetto."

THE 36 STRATEGIES / STRATAGEMS

Ruses de guerre, gambits, schemes... Anonymous Asian lore from the Warring States era (Sengoku jidai, Zhànguó shídài) gathers thirty-six stratagems that would be great for intrigue and/or military fiction as well as for real life (for instance, entrepreneurship). No matter whether you are an Iago or a Tywin Lannister, make sure that you --as a schemer-- keep them all close to yourself.

1. Fool the Heavens to Cross the Ocean: the more obvious something seems, the more secrets it can conceal, and people pay more attention to the unusual; thus, mask your real goals by using the excuse of a fake goal; when the enemy has taken this pretense for granted and lowered their guard, strike showing your true colours (the open feint: point west/left in public when your real goal, in pectore, is to the east/right. Also "crying wolf" to lull the enemy into taking for granted that it's still a hoax the time you finally strike, like Hitler threatened the UK and France time after time right before the unexpected, not-taken-seriously real invasion).
2. Besiege One State to Rescue Another: To defend against attack by limbs, strike straight for the heart, the throat, or the solar plexus (this is a metaphor); find out and attack your enemy's weak points. (Like the previous one... this one is easy. Iago, or Baelish, always finding and hitting the soft spots of others, may be a perfect example. In warfare, taking a keystone fortress or a ford/pass, or taking advantage of the enemy's flaws -Gustavus Adolphus against the tercios- may be the perfect example)
3. Kill with a Borrowed Sword: have others -third parties- do your dirty work to keep your own hands clean; also use the resources of said third parties in your own benefit (Thus did Tywin employ the Freys as "borrowed swords" at the Red Wedding).
4. Wait at Leisure while the Enemy Toils / is Exhausted: war of attrition; encourage the enemy to burn up their strength in futile quests, starve, thirst, freeze... while your own troops keep their health and strength intact. Then strike when the enemy is exhausted and losing all their morale! Fabian tactics, avoiding open battle until the enemy is exhausted. (Scorched earth tactics: the reason why never to get involved in a land war in Russia -or Dorne-. Wallenstein did the same to the Swedes at the Old Keep in the summer of 1632)
5. Loot a House on Fire at Your Ease: take advantage of internal dissension between factions on the enemy side, of epidemics, revolutions... attack the enemy right when it's weakened the most by crisis/force majeure (the great powers -mainly France and Sweden- taking advantage of the squabble between the Kaiser and electors, and between some electors and others, during the 30 Years' War; Franco similarly defeating the Second Spanish Republic torn from within by schism; the kingdoms around France declaring war on the newborn republic during the Revolution; or Tywin Lannister in the War of Five Kings).
6. Make a Noise in the East, but Strike in the West: the surprise factor. Confuse the enemy with a feint, then strike them down when and where they least expect it (the Wronsky feint, in quidditch, when a seeker makes it look like he's diving for the snitch...).
7. Create Something Out of the Blue: Make them believe there is something when in fact there is nothing (the Swedish scarecrow sentinels on the walls of Poltava). Or that there is nothing when in fact there is something. Or spread rumours until they snowball and, just like in the telephone game, they are taken for granted. Use an illusion (again, Iago is a master of this, for instance in making Cassio appear as the instigator of the brawl, and then as Desdemona's lover).
8. Openly Repair the High Road, but Sneak Through the Secret Passage: deceive the enemy with a very obvious and predictable approach that will take a very long time (making them concentrate on the decoy and lower their guard), then surprise them by taking an unexpected shortcut and a lightning sneak attack. This is an extension of "Noise in the East, but Strike in the West," but using easy-to-see and suspicion-evading physical decoys (a Wronski-feinting seeker, carrying out the feint in broad sunlight, may have a co-conspirator in the nearby audience using a hand mirror or other snitch-looking shining object as the decoy snitch... does that abide by the rules?).
9. Watch the Fires Burn Across the River / Watch the Tigers Fight One Another: Wait at the edge of the battlefield. Delay entering the field of battle until all the other players are exhausted by fighting. Then, storm in at full strength and pick up the pieces, curbstomping them (the dissensions in between the factions of the wavering Second Republic, between those in favour of surrender and those against it, made Franco await the result of the internal schism until he finally attacked).
10. Hide a Knife Behind a Friendly Smile: gain the trust, and maybe even the love, of your enemy, with courteous words and manners -or whatever the victim appreciates in a person-. Again, Iago may be the textbook example in literature, and Wallenstein in real-life history (Hans in Frozen, Petyr Baelish, Sosuke Aizen... follow in Iago's trail).
11. Sacrifice the Plum to Spare the Peach: sacrifice short-term goals in favour of long-term goals. Scapegoating, including the Caiaphas principle (Caiaphas principle: to sacrifice the individual to save the community; for example, Jaime Lannister slitting Aerys's throat to save King's Landing); another example would be sacrificing a forlorn hope used as decoy in order to attain victory, or to save as many resources as possible during retreat.
12. Take Every Chance to Pilfer a Sheep: take every opportunity that presents itself, no matter how small it may be, and avail yourself of any profit, no matter how slight. After all, a sheep is not a cow, yet it may still do as resources. Every mistake the enemy makes must be taken advantage of (Iago taking advantage of the unexpected victory and the celebration thereof -not to mention the faux-pas his victims make-, Wallenstein of the fact that the Swedes will reach Saxony in November...).
13. Stomp the Grass to Scare the Snakes: do something spectacular to provoke an enemy response, to arouse the enemy's suspicions and disrupt their thinking (Wallenstein burning the Old Keep and marching into Saxony to make Gustavus Adolphus react). Also, if stealth is required: Do Not Stomp the Grass to Scare the Snakes: an imprudent act will give your position/intention away to the enemy.
14. Borrow a Corpse to Resurrect the Soul: "resurrect" a technology, a method, an ideology... that has become discarded for being "old-fashioned," reinterpreting said resurrected artifact for your own purposes (the Nazis appropriating the swastika -originally a Sanskrit lucky charm- and some Norse myths, aside from racial biology, to create their lore of the Aryan race).
15. Lure the Tiger Off its Den: lure the opponent away from their position, separating them from their source of strength; one can also lure the tiger into one's own turf (the scorched earth tactics mentioned before also take advantage of the unfamiliar extreme climate -whether of Russia or Dorne-, for which the enemy is not prepared).
16. Let Loose in Order to Capture: to avoid bloodshed, "al enemigo que huye puente de plata"; since a cornered victim will make a desperate strike to win or die, leave the one you have cornered a tiny shred of hope to escape, a hope spot which is actually a ruse. When the "hope" of freedom is proven a falsehood that had hitherto been taken for granted, the broken enemy will surrender without a fight.
17. Toss Out a Brick to Get Jade: bait the enemy; make them believe they gain something, or just make them react to them, and actually gain something more valuable (like information) in exchange. (This was the scheme Bellatrix Lestrange used on the leading cast in The Order of the Phoenix, that led to the demise of Sirius Black -the "brick" bait being the prophecy about the chosen one-). The Trojan Horse ruse also fits this kind of strategy.
18. Defeat the Enemy by Taking the Leader: go straight for the leader, for his demise may throw the whole enemy host into demoralisation. This only works if the men do not love the leader, who holds the disorganised group together as a keystone, controlling them by fear (torture, punishments) or by offering them rewards (soldiers of fortune). If the followers truly love and respect the leader, however, they will retaliate (as Wallenstein found out at Lützen!).
19. Steal the Firewood From Under the Pot: deny your enemy the resources needed to oppose you, sapping their strength to weaken their morale (another staple of scorched-earth tactics, seen in the Russian -burning the crops- as well as Dornish/Wallenstein cases -poisoning the springs-; attacking supply lines and caravans of provisions/ammunition is another example). It can also be a human resource -an advisor, a pathfinder...- This works best when the enemy is already wavering, to weaken them even further.
20. Trouble the Waters to Catch Fish: use confusion to further your own goals. When the enemy is dealing with uncertainty, create more chaos to confuse the enemy even more, using stealth and/or distraction to strike them with their guard down. It's more or less like Looting a House on Fire, only that you have fanned the flames into conflagration in the first place (in the former strategy, the "fire" is completely force majeure and internal schisms). Thus, Richelieu and Wallenstein employed intrigue to develop the schisms within the Habsburg Empire -between the Kaiser and the electors, between the Catholic electors and the Society of Jesus, between Catholic and Protestant electors...- The Cardinal even took advantage of Wallenstein's asking the Crown and the Church for a share of the "Edict of Restitution cake" to orchestrate the cashiering of the Duke of Friedland from his position as the Kaiser's first sword.
21. Shed the Cicada's Golden Shell: disguise as someone/something inconspicuous or masquerade as someone/something else (false flag ruses, such as Gustavus III's Swedish "Cossacks" or Hitler's Operation Himmler to justify invasion of Poland; also the age-old trope of Dressing as the Enemy to infiltrate or escape them -whether Winkies, Stormtroopers, or whatever; it's been also used in real life, by Cervantes breaking Moorish prison dressed as a janissary!-).
22. Lock the Door to Catch the Thief: let the enemy ensnare themselves, let them get hoist by their own petards. Tempt them into situations that lead to a flight forwards, and then cut off their supply lines. Once the prey is trapped, lock the door for good. Set a trap and make it click completely when the enemy has fallen hook, line, and sinker (again, Wallenstein marching into Saxony to attract Gustavus Adolphus, for the latter to give battle in November).
23. Befriend Someone Far and Attack Someone Near: distant allies make good allies for it is unwise for one to invade them, while the easiest lands to attack are those closest to one's own (in the Holy Land, Israel was and is allied with Western powers -the US, the UK, and so forth- while waging war against the Palestine territories).
24. Obtain a Common Enemy: if you have two of your enemies at each others' throats, ally with one of them and borrow the resources of that ally to attack the common enemy, promising them that they'll be rewarded once they've defeated the third party; then, once said common enemy is defeated, use those resources to turn against your temporary ally (Wallenstein surely had this in mind for Sweden, hoping to ally with Gustavus Adolphus against the Kaiser!).
25. Replace the Pillars with Rotten Timbers: Damage the sustaining structures, physical or ideological, on which the enemy depends, and replace them with systems which you control; making them dependent on you, discrediting their allies/friends/advisors and/or gaining monopoly of their resources... This can only work if you have got their trust. (Again, Iago is a master at this, and so is Baelish. Also, in 1631, the Catholic League relied completely on the granaries of Friedland, leading to a debt with Wallenstein that had to be paid... hence the taking of Magdeburg and Leipzig... which led to the League's defeat at Breitenfeld).
26. Point at One to Curse Another: use indirect means of getting your way; use third parties as intermediaries; threaten or punish -physically or emotionally- the weak to keep the strong in awe of you; make an example of those who oppose you by using disproportionate punishment (many cases of scapegoats who had to "drink the hemlock" for their executioners to frighten others into submission, such as Hans Hermann von Katte -beheaded by the Sergeant King of Prussia to shock his son Frederick- or Elia Martell and her children -gruesomely killed on the orders of Tywin Lannister-. Also the Aragonian king Ramiro the Monk and his notorious "bell of Huesca," beheading twelve feudal lords; Charles IX of Sweden also executed the most notorious of his brother John III's partisan lords to keep himself on the throne he had usurped).
27. Wear the Mask of a Fool While Remaining Smart: for who believes the fool, who is never taken seriously? It's the least suspicious person! Pretend you are stupid, or insane, or intoxicated, or physically weak, or not left- or right-handed (as Íñigo Montoya does), but keep your wits about you. Then strike when they least expect it, showing your true wit or strength when it's time to attack! There must be method in the madness (The most vivid example I can come up with is Hamlet feigning insanity during his revenge on a usurper stepfather; "method in the madness" indeed. Tyrion Lannister is also a master at wearing, in his case, the mask of a lush as well as that of a fool. Likewise, Gretel plays stupid to lure the wicked witch into the oven. Used when it applies to physical strength/skill, I would go for Íñigo Montoya switching sword hand and revealing that he is not left-handed! Ryoma, in The Prince of Tennis, usually plays right-handed, but switches racket hand -he's a born lefty- when the going gets tough!).
28. Lure Them Onto the Roof, Then Pull the Ladder Away: ensure there is no going back; employ ruse to lure the enemy into dangerous terrain, then, having cornered them completely, cut off their route of escape, communication, and resources; rendering the enemy isolated, unable to retreat, and bereft of supplies... (Again, scorched earth tactics... trying to get involved in a land war in Russia or Dorne... but also, to coax one's own allies to follow one, the burning of bridges after crossing streams and the burning of ships after having landed ashore to ensure that there's no turning back and that the dice are cast -"quemar las naves", as both Hernán Cortés and Nymeria did upon landing-).
29. Deck the Trees with Artificial Blossoms: appear powerful when you have far less power. Make it appear that you have more resources to keep a stronger enemy at bay (Tordenskiöld's soldiers marching around Carlsten Fortress, ostensibly 20000 strong but actually 500 strong; the Swedish scarecrow "guards" on the walls of Poltava. Another example would be the gruffalo story, in which the mouse and the gruffalo travel together through the woods, the gruffalo frightens the predators, but does not realise he is the dreaded one, and believes that the mouse is the one the predators fear, as the mouse herself had told the gruffalo beforehand when the two of them met), or appear weaker and lacking more resources to dissuade the enemy. Make a trifle appear valuable / something worthless appear useful by the use of ruse.
30. Exchange the Roles of Host and Guest: usurp leadership in a scenario in which you would be subordinate; create dependency, reversing the roles so that the more powerful opponent finds themselves in a subordinate position. Pretend to be the guest to be accepted, but develop and become the owner from within (Here, the Duke of Friedland and Iago give some textbook examples: Wallenstein offering the Count of Tilly Friedland grain to create a debt that Tilly would have to pay, to weaken the Catholic League -as said in Replace the Beams with Rotten Timbers- / Wallenstein offering the Kaiser the money and the provisions to raise "the Empire's own" army; Iago convinces all of his victims, who outrank him, that he is the perfect confidant, then -thanks to their trust- has them over a barrel. In Judges 4, Yael welcomes a fleeing, vanquished General Sisera and caters to his every need -exhaustion, thirst, concealment from the enemy-, then, when he has let his guard down the most, she literally hammers home a point!).
31. Honey Trap: send the enemy irresistible pleasures of the flesh, such as offerings of money, wenches, or drugs (strong drink, opium...) as a gift with pretenses of peace, to distract them and sow confusion among them. The leader and/or the officers, having given in, will neglect their duties and lower their guard; also, suspicious individuals on the enemy side will find themselves at odds with those who have given in to the honey trap, creating internal dissension and even intrigues (This is, in a nutshell, Queen Medb's MO in the Táin: more specifically, she uses the promise of her daughter's hand, mead, and bards to lure new allies. In the Old Testament, Yael's killing of Sisera and Judith's of Holofernes may also count in. In the Gesta Romanorum story 88 this is combined with the Empty Fort when an outnumbered general feigns surrender, retreats, and resigns his castle or campsite, with all the provisions therein, into the hands of the outnumbering enemy: "Now the castles -or campsites- were furnished with casks of wine empoisoned with the seed of a certain herb; insomuch, that whosoever drank of it immediately fell asleep. He knew that his opponents were starved; and that, overjoyed to find such excellent quarters, they would drink to excess, and fall into the half death-like quiet of sleep. They did so, and the general, returning, put them all to death.").
32. Fling Open the Gates to the Empty Fort: when you are vulnerable, make the enemies think twice about attacking you; double bluff the enemies by pretending weakness, as if to entice them to attack. Appear ready to fight, but make the enemy suspect there is a ruse when in fact there is none. When the enemy is superior in numbers and your situation is such that you expect to be overrun at any moment, then drop all pretense of military preparedness, act calmly and taunt the enemy, so that the enemy will think you have a huge ambush hidden for them. It works best by acting calm and at ease when your enemy expects you to be tense. This ploy is only successful if in most cases you do have a powerful hidden force and only sparsely use the empty fort strategy. (The ruse at the storming of the Marienberg Fortress, ostensibly garrisoned by unarmed Jesuits, which Gustavus Adolphus, however, quickly saw through; Tywin Lannister opening the gates of King's Landing to the rebels, ditto Vibhishana in Sri Lanka - In the Gesta Romanorum story 88, this is combined with the Honey Trap when an outnumbered general feigns surrender, retreats, and resigns his castle or campsites, with all the provisions therein, into the hands of the outnumbering enemy: "Now the castles -or campsites- were furnished with casks of wine empoisoned with the seed of a certain herb; insomuch, that whosoever drank of it immediately fell asleep. He knew that his opponents were starved; and that, overjoyed to find such excellent quarters, they would drink to excess, and fall into the half death-like quiet of sleep. They did so, and the general, returning, put them all to death.").
33. Use the Enemy's Own Spies to Sow Dissension: recruit moles, or double agents, or fifth columnists, or turncoat informers (Judas Iscariot); and employ them to "sow weeds among the wheat." When preoccupied with settling internal disputes, the enemy's ability to confront external threats is compromised. Then, after the stratagems have been successfully carried out, reward these expendable moles as a traitor deserves.
34. Injure Yourself to Gain the Enemy's Trust: the Wounded Gazelle Gambit. Win their trust through sympathy, pretending you have been hurt. A variant is to take extreme risks (ie "suicide" risks) to prove yourself to them. On one hand, the enemy is lulled into lowering their guard, since you are not being regarded as an immediate threat. The second application is a way of ingratiating yourself with your enemy by pretending the injury was caused by a mutual enemy (like the stepsisters do in Disney's Cinderella, by accusing her of stealing their accessories; or the twin cats incriminate Lady in front of Aunt Sarah, by making her appear as the real culprit. Iago also employs the Wounded Gazelle Gambit, being injured as he tried to restrain a drunken Cassio, by making it appear that he was overly concerned about the lieutenant's alleged addiction).
35. Chain Multiple Stratagems: pile up two or more of these strategies which have been explained before, either as a cause-and-effect chain or having Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, and so forth as backup (Iago, Wallenstein, and Baelish have made such chains of stratagems).
36. If Everything Else Fails, Retreat. Nothing more remains to explain than the same axiom in Swedish: "Bättre fly än illa fäkta" (Better to Flee than Sadly Fighting Be).  Sounds even better than "better safe than sorry" or the "Joestar signature tactic," right? Retreating, unlike surrendering, is temporary -you'll lose the battle, but still be able to win the war-; and everyone learns more from their mistakes.

THE 36 STRATEGIES / STRATAGEMS

Ruses de guerre, gambits, schemes... Anonymous Asian lore from the Warring States era (Sengoku jidai, Zhànguó shídài) gathers thirty-six stratagems that would be great for intrigue and/or military fiction as well as for real life (for instance, entrepreneurship). No matter whether you are an Iago or a Tywin Lannister, make sure that you --as a schemer-- keep them all close to yourself.

1. Fool the Heavens to Cross the Ocean: the more obvious something seems, the more secrets it can conceal, and people pay more attention to the unusual; thus, mask your real goals by using the excuse of a fake goal; when the enemy has taken this pretense for granted and lowered their guard, strike showing your true colours (the open feint: point west/left in public when your real goal, in pectore, is to the east/right. Also "crying wolf" to lull the enemy into taking for granted that it's still a hoax the time you finally strike, like Hitler threatened the UK and France time after time right before the unexpected, not-taken-seriously real invasion).
2. Besiege One State to Rescue Another: To defend against attack by limbs, strike straight for the heart, the throat, or the solar plexus (this is a metaphor); find out and attack your enemy's weak points. (Like the previous one... this one is easy. Iago, or Baelish, always finding and hitting the soft spots of others, may be a perfect example. In warfare, taking a keystone fortress or a ford/pass, or taking advantage of the enemy's flaws -Gustavus Adolphus against the tercios- may be the perfect example)
3. Kill with a Borrowed Sword: have others -third parties- do your dirty work to keep your own hands clean; also use the resources of said third parties in your own benefit (Thus did Tywin employ the Freys as "borrowed swords" at the Red Wedding).
4. Wait at Leisure while the Enemy Toils / is Exhausted: war of attrition; encourage the enemy to burn up their strength in futile quests, starve, thirst, freeze... while your own troops keep their health and strength intact. Then strike when the enemy is exhausted and losing all their morale! Fabian tactics, avoiding open battle until the enemy is exhausted. (Scorched earth tactics: the reason why never to wage a land war in Russia -or Dorne-. Wallenstein did the same to the Swedes at the Old Keep in the summer of 1632)
5. Loot a House on Fire at Your Ease: take advantage of internal dissension between factions on the enemy side, of epidemics, revolutions... attack the enemy right when it's weakened the most by crisis/force majeure (the great powers taking advantage of the squabble between the Kaiser and electors, and between some electors and others, during the 30 Years' War; Franco similarly defeating the Second Spanish Republic torn from within by schism; the kingdoms around France declaring war on the newborn republic during the Revolution; or Tywin Lannister in the War of Five Kings).
6. Make a Noise in the East, but Strike in the West: the surprise factor. Confuse the enemy with a feint, then strike them down when and where they least expect it (the Wronsky feint, in quidditch, when a seeker makes it look like he's diving for the snitch...).
7. Create Something Out of the Blue: Make them believe there is something when in fact there is nothing (the Swedish scarecrow sentinels on the walls of Poltava). Or that there is nothing when in fact there is something. Or spread rumours until they snowball and, just like in the telephone game, they are taken for granted. Use an illusion (again, Iago is a master of this, for instance in making Cassio appear as the instigator of the brawl, and then as Desdemona's lover).
8. Openly Repair the High Road, but Sneak Through the Secret Passage: deceive the enemy with a very obvious and predictable approach that will take a very long time (making them concentrate on the decoy and lower their guard), then surprise them by taking an unexpected shortcut and a lightning sneak attack. This is an extension of "Noise in the East, but Strike in the West," but using easy-to-see and suspicion-evading physical decoys (a Wronski-feinting seeker, carrying out the feint in broad sunlight, may have a co-conspirator in the nearby audience using a hand mirror or other snitch-looking shining object as the decoy snitch... does that abide by the rules?).
9. Watch the Fires Burn Across the River / Watch the Tigers Fight One Another: Wait at the edge of the battlefield. Delay entering the field of battle until all the other players are exhausted by fighting. Then, storm in at full strength and pick up the pieces, curbstomping them (the dissensions in between the factions of the wavering Second Republic, between those in favour of surrender and those against it, made Franco await the result of the internal schism until he finally attacked).
10. Hide a Knife Behind a Friendly Smile: gain the trust, and maybe even the love, of your enemy, with courteous words and manners -or whatever the victim appreciates in a person-. Again, Iago may be the textbook example in literature, and Wallenstein in real-life history (Hans in Frozen, Petyr Baelish, Sosuke Aizen... follow in Iago's trail).
11. Sacrifice the Plum to Spare the Peach: sacrifice short-term goals in favour of long-term goals. Scapegoating, including the Caiaphas principle (Caiaphas principle: to sacrifice the individual to save the community; for example, Jaime Lannister slitting Aerys's throat to save King's Landing); another example would be sacrificing a forlorn hope used as decoy in order to attain victory, or to save as many resources as possible during retreat.
12. Take Every Chance to Pilfer a Sheep: take every opportunity that presents itself, no matter how small it may be, and avail yourself of any profit, no matter how slight. After all, a sheep is not a cow, yet it may still do as resources. Every mistake the enemy makes must be taken advantage of (Iago taking advantage of the unexpected victory and the celebration thereof -not to mention the faux-pas his victims make-, Wallenstein of the fact that the Swedes will reach Saxony in November...).
13. Stomp the Grass to Scare the Snakes: do something spectacular to provoke an enemy response, to arouse the enemy's suspicions and disrupt their thinking (Wallenstein burning the Old Keep and marching into Saxony to make Gustavus Adolphus react). Also, if stealth is required: Do Not Stomp the Grass to Scare the Snakes: an imprudent act will give your position/intention away to the enemy.
14. Borrow a Corpse to Resurrect the Soul: "resurrect" a technology, a method, an ideology... that has become discarded for being "old-fashioned," reinterpreting said resurrected artifact for your own purposes (the Nazis appropriating the swastika -originally a Sanskrit lucky charm- and some Norse myths, aside from racial biology, to create their lore of the Aryan race).
15. Lure the Tiger Off its Den: lure the opponent away from their position, separating them from their source of strength; one can also lure the tiger into one's own turf (the scorched earth tactics mentioned before also take advantage of the unfamiliar extreme climate -whether of Russia or Dorne-, for which the enemy is not prepared).
16. Let Loose in Order to Capture: to avoid bloodshed, "al enemigo que huye puente de plata"; since a cornered victim will make a desperate strike to win or die, leave the one you have cornered a tiny shred of hope to escape, a hope spot which is actually a ruse. When the "hope" of freedom is proven a falsehood that had hitherto been taken for granted, the broken enemy will surrender without a fight.
17. Toss Out a Brick to Get Jade: bait the enemy; make them believe they gain something, or just make them react to them, and actually gain something more valuable (like information) in exchange. (This was the scheme Bellatrix Lestrange used on the leading cast in The Order of the Phoenix, that led to the demise of Sirius Black -the "brick" bait being the prophecy about the chosen one-). The Trojan Horse ruse also fits this kind of strategy.
18. Defeat the Enemy by Taking the Leader: go straight for the leader, for his demise may throw the whole enemy host into demoralisation. This only works if the men do not love the leader, who holds the disorganised group together as a keystone, controlling them by fear (torture, punishments) or by offering them rewards (soldiers of fortune). If the followers truly love and respect the leader, however, they will retaliate (as Wallenstein found out at Lützen!).
19. Steal the Firewood From Under the Pot: deny your enemy the resources needed to oppose you, sapping their strength to weaken their morale (another staple of scorched-earth tactics, seen in the Russian -burning the crops- as well as Dornish/Wallenstein cases -poisoning the springs-; attacking supply lines and caravans of provisions/ammunition is another example). It can also be a human resource -an advisor, a pathfinder...- This works best when the enemy is already wavering, to weaken them even further.
20. Trouble the Waters to Catch Fish: use confusion to further your own goals. When the enemy is dealing with uncertainty, create more chaos to confuse the enemy even more, using stealth and/or distraction to strike them with their guard down. It's more or less like Looting a House on Fire, only that you have fanned the flames into conflagration in the first place (in the former strategy, the "fire" is completely force majeure and internal schisms). Thus, Richelieu and Wallenstein employed intrigue to develop the schisms within the Habsburg Empire -between the Kaiser and the electors, between the Catholic electors and the Society of Jesus, between Catholic and Protestant electors...- The Cardinal even took advantage of Wallenstein's asking the Crown and the Church for a share of the "Edict of Restitution cake" to orchestrate the cashiering of the Duke of Friedland from his position as the Kaiser's first sword.
21. Shed the Cicada's Golden Shell: disguise as someone/something inconspicuous or masquerade as someone/something else (false flag ruses, such as Gustavus III's Swedish "Cossacks" or Hitler's Operation Himmler to justify invasion of Poland; also the age-old trope of Dressing as the Enemy to infiltrate or escape them -whether Winkies, Stormtroopers, Dai Li, or whatever; it's been also used in real life, by Cervantes breaking Moorish prison dressed as a janissary!-).
22. Lock the Door to Catch the Thief: let the enemy ensnare themselves, let them get hoist by their own petards. Tempt them into situations that lead to a flight forwards, and then cut off their supply lines. Once the prey is trapped, lock the door for good. Set a trap and make it click completely when the enemy has fallen hook, line, and sinker (again, Wallenstein marching into Saxony to attract Gustavus Adolphus, for the latter to give battle in November).
23. Befriend Someone Far and Attack Someone Near: distant allies make good allies for it is unwise for one to invade them, while the easiest lands to attack are those closest to one's own (in the Holy Land, Israel was and is allied with Western powers -the US, the UK, and so forth- while waging war against the Palestine territories).
24. Obtain a Common Enemy: if you have two of your enemies at each others' throats, ally with one of them and borrow the resources of that ally to attack the common enemy, promising them that they'll be rewarded once they've defeated the third party; then, once said common enemy is defeated, use those resources to turn against your temporary ally (Wallenstein surely had this in mind for Sweden, hoping to ally with Gustavus Adolphus against the Kaiser!).
25. Replace the Pillars with Rotten Timbers: Damage the sustaining structures, physical or ideological, on which the enemy depends, and replace them with systems which you control; making them dependent on you, discrediting their allies/friends/advisors and/or gaining monopoly of their resources... This can only work if you have got their trust. (Again, Iago is a master at this, and so is Baelish. Also, in 1631, the Catholic League relied completely on the granaries of Friedland, leading to a debt with Wallenstein that had to be paid... hence the taking of Magdeburg and Leipzig... which led to the League's defeat at Breitenfeld).
26. Point at One to Curse Another: use indirect means of getting your way; use third parties as intermediaries; threaten or punish -physically or emotionally- the weak to keep the strong in awe of you; make an example of those who oppose you by using disproportionate punishment (many cases of scapegoats who had to "drink the hemlock" for their executioners to frighten others into submission, such as Hans Hermann von Katte -beheaded by the Sergeant King of Prussia to shock his son Frederick- or Elia Martell and her children -gruesomely killed on the orders of Tywin Lannister-. Also the Aragonian king Ramiro the Monk and his notorious "bell of Huesca," beheading twelve feudal lords; Charles IX of Sweden also executed the most notorious of his brother John III's partisan lords to keep himself on the throne he had usurped).
27. Wear the Mask of a Fool While Remaining Smart: for who believes the fool, who is never taken seriously? It's the least suspicious person! Pretend you are stupid, or insane, or intoxicated, or physically weak, or not left- or right-handed (as Íñigo Montoya does), but keep your wits about you. Then strike when they least expect it, showing your true wit or strength when it's time to attack! There must be method in the madness (The most vivid example I can come up with is Hamlet feigning insanity during his revenge on a usurper stepfather; "method in the madness" indeed. Tyrion Lannister is also a master at wearing, in his case, the mask of a lush as well as that of a fool. Likewise, Gretel plays stupid to lure the wicked witch into the oven. Used when it applies to physical strength/skill, I would go for Íñigo Montoya switching sword hand and revealing that he is not left-handed! Ryoma, in The Prince of Tennis, usually plays right-handed, but switches racket hand -he's a born lefty- when the going gets tough!).
28. Lure Them Onto the Roof, Then Pull the Ladder Away: ensure there is no going back; employ ruse to lure the enemy into dangerous terrain, then, having cornered them completely, cut off their route of escape, communication, and resources; rendering the enemy isolated, unable to retreat, and bereft of supplies... (Again, scorched earth tactics... trying to get involved in a land war in Russia or Dorne... but also, to coax one's own allies to follow one, the burning of bridges after crossing streams and the burning of ships after having landed ashore to ensure that there's no turning back and that the dice are cast -"quemar las naves", as both Hernán Cortés and Nymeria did upon landing-).
29. Deck the Trees with Artificial Blossoms: appear powerful when you have far less power. Make it appear that you have more resources to keep a stronger enemy at bay (Tordenskiöld's soldiers marching around Carlsten Fortress, ostensibly 20000 strong but actually 500 strong; the Swedish scarecrow "guards" on the walls of Poltava. Another example would be the gruffalo story, in which the mouse and the gruffalo travel together through the woods, the gruffalo frightens the predators, but does not realise he is the dreaded one, and believes that the mouse is the one the predators fear, as the mouse herself had told the gruffalo beforehand when the two of them met), or appear weaker and lacking more resources to dissuade the enemy. Make a trifle appear valuable / something worthless appear useful by the use of ruse.
30. Exchange the Roles of Host and Guest: usurp leadership in a scenario in which you would be subordinate; create dependency, reversing the roles so that the more powerful opponent finds themselves in a subordinate position. Pretend to be the guest to be accepted, but develop and become the owner from within (Here, the Duke of Friedland and Iago give some textbook examples: Wallenstein offering the Count of Tilly Friedland grain to create a debt that Tilly would have to pay, to weaken the Catholic League -as said in Replace the Beams with Rotten Timbers- / Wallenstein offering the Kaiser the money and the provisions to raise "the Empire's own" army; Iago convinces all of his victims, who outrank him, that he is the perfect confidant, then -thanks to their trust- has them over a barrel. In Judges 4, Yael welcomes a fleeing, vanquished General Sisera and caters to his every need -exhaustion, thirst, concealment from the enemy-, then, when he has let his guard down the most, she literally hammers home a point!).
31. Honey Trap: send the enemy irresistible pleasures of the flesh, such as offerings of money, wenches, or drugs (strong drink, opium...) as a gift with pretenses of peace, to distract them and sow confusion among them. The leader and/or the officers, having given in, will neglect their duties and lower their guard; also, suspicious individuals on the enemy side will find themselves at odds with those who have given in to the honey trap, creating internal dissension and even intrigues (This is, in a nutshell, Queen Medb's MO in the Táin: more specifically, she uses the promise of her daughter's hand, mead, and bards to lure new allies. In the Old Testament, Yael's killing of Sisera and Judith's of Holofernes may also count in. In the Gesta Romanorum story 88 this is combined with the Empty Fort when an outnumbered general feigns surrender, retreats, and resigns his castle or campsite, with all the provisions therein, into the hands of the outnumbering enemy: "Now the castles -or campsites- were furnished with casks of wine empoisoned with the seed of a certain herb; insomuch, that whosoever drank of it immediately fell asleep. He knew that his opponents were starved; and that, overjoyed to find such excellent quarters, they would drink to excess, and fall into the half death-like quiet of sleep. They did so, and the general, returning, put them all to death.").
32. Fling Open the Gates to the Empty Fort: when you are vulnerable, make the enemies think twice about attacking you; double bluff the enemies by pretending weakness, as if to entice them to attack. Appear ready to fight, but make the enemy suspect there is a ruse when in fact there is none. When the enemy is superior in numbers and your situation is such that you expect to be overrun at any moment, then drop all pretense of military preparedness, act calmly and taunt the enemy, so that the enemy will think you have a huge ambush hidden for them. It works best by acting calm and at ease when your enemy expects you to be tense. This ploy is only successful if in most cases you do have a powerful hidden force and only sparsely use the empty fort strategy. (The ruse at the storming of the Marienberg Fortress, ostensibly garrisoned by unarmed Jesuits, which Gustavus Adolphus, however, quickly saw through; Tywin Lannister opening the gates of King's Landing to the rebels, ditto Vibhishana in Sri Lanka - In the Gesta Romanorum story 88, this is combined with the Honey Trap when an outnumbered general feigns surrender, retreats, and resigns his castle or campsite, with all the provisions therein, into the hands of the outnumbering enemy: "Now the castles -or campsites- were furnished with casks of wine empoisoned with the seed of a certain herb; insomuch, that whosoever drank of it immediately fell asleep. He knew that his opponents were starved; and that, overjoyed to find such excellent quarters, they would drink to excess, and fall into the half death-like quiet of sleep. They did so, and the general, returning, put them all to death.").
33. Use the Enemy's Own Spies to Sow Dissension: recruit moles, or double agents, or fifth columnists, or turncoat informers (Judas Iscariot); and employ them to "sow weeds among the wheat." When preoccupied with settling internal disputes, the enemy's ability to confront external threats is compromised. Then, after the stratagems have been successfully carried out, reward these expendable moles as a traitor deserves.
34. Injure Yourself to Gain the Enemy's Trust: the Wounded Gazelle Gambit. Win their trust through sympathy, pretending you have been hurt. A variant is to take extreme risks (ie "suicide" risks) to prove yourself to them. On one hand, the enemy is lulled into lowering their guard, since you are not being regarded as an immediate threat. The second application is a way of ingratiating yourself with your enemy by pretending the injury was caused by a mutual enemy (like the stepsisters do in Disney's Cinderella, by accusing her of stealing their accessories; or the twin cats incriminate Lady in front of Aunt Sarah, by making her appear as the real culprit. Iago also employs the Wounded Gazelle Gambit, being injured as he tried to restrain a drunken Cassio, by making it appear that he was overly concerned about the lieutenant's alleged addiction).
35. Chain Multiple Stratagems: pile up two or more of these strategies which have been explained before, either as a cause-and-effect chain or having Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, and so forth as backup (Iago, Wallenstein, and Baelish have made such chains of stratagems).
36. If Everything Else Fails, Retreat. Nothing more remains to explain than the same axiom in Swedish: "Bättre fly än illa fäkta" (Better to Flee than Sadly Fighting Be). Retreating, unlike surrendering, is temporary -you'll lose the battle, but still be able to win the war-; and everyone learns more from their mistakes.

THE SECOND TALE OF SEPTA POPPINE

A Blazing Day: Before the Story

It was a blazing autumn midday, and five days from the twins' seventh name day. 
The air was unusually stifling for the season, and the great halls of Casterly Rock blazed with sunlight. It was therefore no surprise that the young Lannisters could be found in the godswood, refreshing themselves in the shade of the tall pines and splashing about in the pool. Cersei and Jaime were undressed and up to their knees in the fresh water, lashing at each other, even fighting a water battle, while Tyrion, perched on a low pine branch, was reading another of his good history books.
The septa was sitting in the shade of a spherically-trimmed thuja bush by the godswood pool, watching the children in their pastimes. The blazing weather reminded her of somewhere she had been not long ago, and she happened to remember a story she would like to share with her little charges:
"Jaime! Cersei! Tyrion! Would you like a story in the shade of these branches?"

Her words rang loud and clear like an incantation, and there must have been something magical about them, for the odd-eyed one quickly dismounted from his branch, as the twins got up on land and wrapped themselves in cool lavender-scented white towels.

"Look here, I'm a bride!", Cersei said with sparkling green eyes, twirling around.

"I'm a Kingsguard!", Jaime waved a broken branch as if he were fencing.

"Well, if you're a bride and you're a Kingsguard... then who or what are you, Tyrion?", the young septa inquired. The sunlight made rainbows in passing through her crystal star pendant.

"I'm Aegon the Conqueror", the imp said without any enthusiasm.

"Well, let's say I can't find myself in a merrier company. A bride, a Kingsguard, and Aegon the Dragon himself!", Septa Poppine chortled. "And of course me, a strange young septa with a knack for telling tales. Today it's pretty hot for the Westerlands in autumn, isn't it?"
"More like mid-summer in Dorne", Jaime commented.
"Well, I was just thinking of a Dornish story", the septa cheerfully replied.
"I hope it's a love story with a happy ending", Cersei said. She wasn't pleased with last night's story because the Night's Watch officer didn't get his girl.
"It happens to be a love story, and the ending won't leave you indifferent."
"Seven Gods, a love story!" Jaime replied with a slight frown. Now he was the discontented one, for, unlike his twin sister, he preferred adventure and war stories, accounts of daring feats, like the tale before.
"Oh, Jaime, give this one a chance!", the septa stroked his golden hair.
"All right", he sighed. "After all, it will be a Dornish story, and thus it will be rather unusual..."
"I bet it will", Cersei said. "For who has never wished to go to Dorne?"
"Well, I have been there myself!", was Septa Poppine's obvious reply. "So, are you ready for a visit to those sunny lands?"
Neither of them spoke a word, but their eyes sparkled with confidence and they smiled pleasantly. The septa didn't need to ask them anything more.
Then, all four formed a circle, or rather a square, with Tyrion opposite Septa Poppine, Jaime and Cersei on either side, snuggled up in their towels.
The young septa cleared her throat, and, by the blazing light of the noonday sun, she began to tell the children a tale...


The Secrets of the Golden Halls: A Tale of Dorne 

Long, long ago, long before Aegon the Conqueror's landing, a fleet of ten thousand wayward ships left their war-torn homelands to seek their fortune on foreign shores. On board were thousands of copper-skinned and raven-haired people, led by a brave and clever warrior queen, defeated and put to rout yet never despairing to found a better future. Nymeria was her name, and the Rhoynar were her loyal subjects. 
In the end, they landed on the warm southern coast of Westeros, in a region where feudal lords were constantly at war over the precious streams and springs of freshwater. And, as soon as the last warrior at her orders had landed, she had all ten thousand of her ships burned at once, for no cowards within her ranks to sail away. Offering her hand and her support to one of them, Mors Martell, who had fallen in love with her and vice versa, marrying her scarlet sun to his scarlet spear, the foreign queen managed to subjugate the rest of the clans and unify all of their lands, centuries before Aegon the Conqueror would do the same north of the Marches. Thus the blood of the Rhoynar, who had found a new homeland, flowed into the veins of the children of the Andal natives, and thus arose a prosperous and wealthy realm by the name of Dorne, ruled by a widowed Nymeria (since Mors Martell had fallen on the battlefield ere the land was unified), whose seat was founded in a bay on the east coast, on the greatest of all the springs, a stately Rhoynish-style palace surrounded by a fresh, verdant paradise with many a sparkling fountain. The place is still known by its beautiful name, the Water Gardens, and it is here that our heroine was born and raised, reared always with comforts.
For she was a princess of Dorne, of House Nymeros Martell, the firstborn among all her siblings, and heiress to the crown. 
Now in Dorne the crown always goes to the eldest, regardless of gender, so her widowed mother (the maiden's father, the prince-consort, had died in his other half's arms, wounded in the side, in a skirmish near the border with the Reach) had her reared in statescraft and science and in the fine arts, as she had been reared herself. And thus, Princess Nymeria (for she, like many Dornish girls, had been named after her legendary ancestor) had as many books as her garden had oranges, and learned how to fight with a spear, to discuss about philosophy, to ride on horseback and to lead an army on the battlefield. And she spoke Old Valyrian as easily as she pleased. There was no more accomplished rider or cyvasse player in all the land, from the Marches to the southern coastline. 
And soon, when she had attained the age of eighteen, having lost already both her parents, she ruled as well as any prince could have done. During her reign, the orange orchards and the vineyards which conform the fortune of Dorne were carefully tended to, and ships constantly entered and left the ports, trading wine and citrus fruits for spices, silk, and Braavosi glass among other commodities. The winters brought cool rains to quench everyone's thirst and water the vineyards and the gardens. And, whenever she could, the young princess, her raven hair concealed under a golden veil, went forth into the roads and streets undercover, on horseback, and she was pleased with the fruit of her skill as a ruler. For her heart was as passionate as the Dornish summer sun.
She had obviously reached the marriageable age, and she was a good party as well, the realm of Dorne being her fortune. Princess Nymeria was not only a skilled ruler, but tall and beautiful as well, as lovely as the merciful springtime of her lands: her long hair shimmering and raven black, her skin the warm colour of cinnamon. She owned stables full of Dornish sand-steeds, the fastest ones in all Westeros, beautiful horses whose colour range stretched from the white of the moon to the black of midnight. A grand palace, with the loveliest garden in the land around, full of thickly embroidered tapestries, vessels of Braavosi glass, weapons of finest steel, both swords and spears, ornate with jewels, their blades covered in cobalt. There was no doubt that she was a good party, and she didn't lack suitors at all. And her heart was as passionate as the Dornish summer sun, so she was rarely discontented.
But she wasn't interested in a wedding, and after all, she needn't marry. She would be contented with a paramour, someone who would share her life without being married to her (this lifestyle is not unusual at all among the Dornish). She had remained single ever since she had attained the marriageable age of sixteen, and it was her decision to have a paramour rather than a wedded consort. For she had decided to give far more time to affairs of state rather than to her own private pastimes.
Yet soon, her attention was drawn to an officer of her personal guard, a certainly young and dashing one. And their relationship seemed to be perfect, for they were pleased with each other from the start... until she found him quaffing the blood-red wine of the lands and romancing the court ladies.
One after the other, paramours came and went into her bedchamber, all equally good-looking: a prisoner of war from the Reach, a stateless sellsword, a Braavosi merchant captain who traded in glass and silk... All of them had their flaws. The courtiers themselves were always smiling on purpose, rarely honest, always pleasing their liege lady, even if they had to lie.
Still, the princess did not despair at all to find the jewel in her crown: a young man with the looks of a demigod, a heart of gold, a mind sharp as a longsword, and good taste in every sphere of life. Someone to share her life, but not one who would always say yes and smile to her on purpose, for that would be tiresome. She'd rather love a youth who should be honest, pure, modest and true, just like rock crystal. Then she assembled her entire court together in the palace gardens and told them of her intentions, to much rejoicing and acclaim. But were the courtiers really honest towards her? She had her reasons to doubt, for her younger brother and three of her advisors had been too honest towards her. Which was by no means a sign of truthfulness.
And thus, at the end of the day, she grew weary of it all, leaving the affairs of state to her advisors, and riding away across wastelands, following dried-up river beds, on her favourite stallion Mors, whose coat was as black as the rider's hair. On her own, alone in the barren landscapes, she daydreamt of her dream paramour.
One day at dusk, as she returned to the Water Gardens from such a ride, she sat at the dinner table to behold a new face she had never seen before. The most comely young man she had ever seen, shining with marvellous and foreign beauty, was serving the ruling household their blood-red wine into their glass cups. 
And then, liquid fire coursed through her young half-Rhoynish veins.
The newcomer, that young man of marvellous and foreign beauty, appeared to be seventeen or eighteen years old. Tresses of spun platinum or of sunlight, tied with a ribbon into a loose ponytail, cascaded on his back, a rebel lock hanging on his left shoulder. His sparkling eyes were the colour of amethysts, and his soft skin was as white as a lily's petals or the full moon. Though he was wearing the garb of a Dornish courtier, silks in warm colours embroidered with suns in golden thread, the young cupbearer cut a figure and betrayed his foreign descent among the dark and raven-haired Dornish.
Nymeria had never seen such features in real life, but merely read about them and recognized them as the traits of the Valyrians, once lords of Essos and now an exceedingly rare sight.
The most trustworthy of her ladies told the princess about the one who now caught everyone's eyes:
"He's from Lys, and he's been to Myr, Volantis, Braavos, and King's Landing as well. Pure Valyrian descent, as you can see, and a name so hard to pronounce that we got to know him as Sorrow, the name that he says he used in King's Landing. Isn't that a strange and even ironic name for such a talented cupbearer with such a sweet disposition, who sings in a fine tenor voice and plays the harp as easily as you please? And that is not all, for he speaks Old Valyrian as easily as you please, and he can also write love poetry and compose tunes to it..."
"Is he a eunuch?", her liege lady inquired.
"He's certainly not, for he's loved both men and women", the lady-in-waiting replied.
As for Nymeria Nymeros Martell, she drained her glass at one fell swoop and felt how her heart throbbed as if she had a fever. Following the Lysene youth with her eyes, she called him to her side to fill her cup time after time, looking into his periwinkle eyes every time she put the cup to her lips, and thus, she felt how her temperature rose as the strong wine seared her throat. Why was she feeling that strange... was it the drink or the one who had served it? 
Confidently, she drew his attention: 
"Cupbearer! I'd like a ewer of rosewater to drink after the wine and wash my face..."
He left the room, and then returned within an instant, with the pitcher full of water in which rose petals floated. And then, the princess got up with a few difficulties, commenting that the room was reeling, and asking the young Lysene, in a slurred voice, to escort her into her bedchamber.
And so he did, as she staggered and leaned against his left shoulder.
The bedchamber was magnificent, with an ornate canopy bed whose silk curtains were thickly embroidered in golden thread with suns and orange blossoms. An intoxicated Nymeria got into bed already fully dressed, with a lilywhite cupbearer by her side, and they slept soundly in one another's arms, her face quite hidden in his platinum hair.
They stroked each other with warm and soft, delicate hands, one's like cinnamon and the other's like fresh lilies. And they exchanged kisses as warm and full of passion as their caresses.
The next day, she woke up with a throbbing headache and her most recent paramour by her side, convinced that she had at last found the one.
After having recovered and broken her fast, she overheard her advisors and her ladies talking to each other about the new cupbearer, "Sorrow" as he was called. The confidante told her liege lady, as honestly as she could, that he had previously had countless lovers of both genders and of the highest ranks, in his own birthplace of Lys, in Myr, in Volantis, in Braavos, and most recently in King's Landing, but that he had left all of his lovers one by one, turning his back on every lord and lady, officer and courtesan. Or so he had said, without giving any reason why.
Those details about the young cupbearer's past did not make Nymeria despair. Rather, she identified herself with this person whose life had hitherto been a series of heartbreaks.
In due time, the servant and the princess grew closer and closer to each other, and it was clear that he was as pleased with her as she was with him. When the Lysene was not serving his liege lady a glass of crimson wine or of refreshing lemonade, or fragrant rosewater, to quench her thirst, which he often had to do in summer, he played the tunes he had composed on the high harp, singing his lyrics in a sweet tenor voice. They could often be found together in the gardens, the cupbearer serving to the princess or both of them walking together by the fountains, sprinkling each other or playing cyvasse... as he always sheltered his lilywhite skin from the searing Dornish sun with a silk parasol. In the shade of this shield of ornate yellow silk, Nymeria spent more time for each day, until at last her advisors had to warn her to attend to her affairs of state, which she now nearly almost forgot.
Yet she had begun to feel weak and light-headed ever since the cupbearer had entered her life. Now she was nearly always weary, her heartbeat having weakened to a quick flutter. She had already begun to feel ill at ease the first time she had seen his sparkling periwinkle eyes...
"It must be the effect of true love, which has entered my life at last", she thought about the gradual change in her state of health, once as firm as iron and now wavering like a lily on its stem.
Some courtiers, though not all of them, were impressed by how their liege lady's heart was being won, but also concerned about her fading health. Could she at last have found the right one?
Yet one evening, as they were lying in bed and the princess asked her lover to undress himself before going to sleep, he coldly said no.
And then, Nymeria suddenly remembered the words of her closest ladies about the past of the one she loved. She could not believe her ears, and she was astonished by her paramour's reply. Was he going to leave her, like he had turned his back on so many others? And thus, she sincerely asked the young Lysene why he was reluctant to take their love one step further.
"Pardon me, my Liege", he replied, his heart on his hand. "I cannot tell you the truth."
"The truth cannot be hidden forever. Sooner or later, it will come to light", she lay a warm and cinnamon-brown right hand on the middle of his chest, where she could feel the cupbearer's heart throbbing restlessly. "Maybe you just have to dare to confront the truth, no matter how painful it might be."
The young man looked into the black eyes of the princess, and there he saw warmth and concern. And he decided to trust her, no matter what he had done, for there was something deep in her heart of hearts that made him feel brave enough to share his secrets, and lighten the burden that oppressed his chest, tightly binding his heart with iron chains. Upon that he relied, and, clearing his throat, he addressed her:
"If I ever offend you by telling you my secrets, my Liege, why don't you tell me a few secrets of yours? Wouldn't you tell me why so many have come and went within this magnificent bedchamber before me?"
"Tell your own secrets first, my darling, and then it will be my turn", Nymeria Nymeros Martell promised, with both her hands upon her heart.
Raising his periwinkle eyes, he cleared his throat and spoke thus:
"My story is a tragic one to begin with. I was born and raised in the finest quarter of fair Lys, with a beautiful courtesan for a single mother. I never knew my father, and soon I learned that neither had he known his father either, and so on for generations, due to a curse that goes back to the ancient days of the Freehold. A curse that makes every man born into our lineage die, his heart stopped due to elation, as soon as he has reached the heights of pleasure in the company of another. This is the reason why I wish to be known by the name of Sorrow. This explains the reason why I have left so many lovers, such a trail of broken hearts. To spare my own life."
"You left them all to save yourself?"
"I arrived at this court having long time heard about the greatness and the wealth of Dorne. And, as soon as I had come hither from King's Landing, I happened to stumble into the wrong company. Three of your advisors are seeking to dethrone you and place your younger brother on the throne. Knowing that I was a cupbearer and a Lysene with great knowledge of poisons, they asked me to pick a certain flower from the garden and slip its sap into your wines."
"And what did you do then?", the princess asked, surprised and full of concern for whether her paramour was a traitor and an ally to prospective usurpers who attempted against her precious life.
"Well, I was a newcomer, and I did barely know you back then, but I had heard of you and was fond of you from what I heard from others of your beauty, your cleverness, and your skill as a statesperson. Yet I was afraid at heart that our story would end like all those I had been part of before, and I was not sure of whether to love you completely and lose my life. And thus, I naively showed these advisors which flower they would need, one that can poison an adult gradually, slowly... but, upon learning what they wanted the sap for, I refused to be part of the plot. Yet the conspirators must have slipped the lethal sap into my pitcher behind my back, and you must have drunk a good quantity of it... However, I know my substances as well as any other Lysene gentleman. Your system hasn't absorbed much of that transparent liquid... Thus, I regret whatever I could have done against you, my Liege, for I have never given you cause. Moreover, I give you the names of the traitors who had ensnared me, and I ask for your mercy, as long as the real traitors receive what they deserve."
And thus, the young cupbearer gave his liege lady the names of the three advisors who had pulled him into their plot. The next day, these three noblemen, high officers all three, would be thrust out of court and sent to Yronwood, a distant fortress in the middle of the Marches.
"I cannot thank you enough for your honesty and your courage to dare to inform me of a plot in which you had been involved yourself, even at the cost of your life. And thus, I admire you even more, and I spare you the fate of the conspirators. You are pardoned. No other person I have ever known has dared to say such words to me. No matter if they were courtiers I have known since childhood or strangers who have turned up at our garden gates, they were all shallow and distracted by the splendour. But you, though you were born and raised in Lys among silk tapestries, though you had spent your whole life in grand surroundings, remained true to yourself, honest, brave, clever, and gentle. Now I know that you are meant for me." She kissed his soft, lilywhite hands warmly and looked into his clear amethyst eyes.
"And now I know that you are meant for me", the platinum-haired youth kindly said, with his usual sincere smile. "For you stay true to yourself as well, in spite of all the pressure, and in spite of the many people who try to chain your will and live your life." And then, he felt his heart fill with happiness, and the curse that had once rested upon his bloodline for centuries was finally broken.
"Now you may no longer call me Sorrow, my Liege. For my true name is Rhyse, though I had forgotten it long ago, with the third love I ever left."
"And you may call me by name as well, call me Nymeria, or Nym for short, and no longer betray me."
The Dornish sun cast its first rays of a new day through the narrow gap in the bed-curtains. 
 "Now let us promise each other, let the rising sun be our witness, that we will always be true to each other and to ourselves, for what we fear the most never to happen at all", both the princess and the cupbearer said at unison. A ray of sunlight fell on their lovely faces, they embraced, he ran his lily-petal fingers through her raven hair and she laid her cinnamon-brown hands on the middle of his chest.
And then, their lips touched, and both their hearts throbbed at unison, skipping a beat at the start, as their eyes, her beads of onyx and his dew-drenched violets fixed on each other, quickly filled with bright stars.


A Blazing Day: After the Story

As the septa ended her story, she found Cersei drying up her tears, her mint-green eyes slightly closed. But she smiled and laughed as she dried up her tears, and the expression on her face was one of happiness.
"So you loved the story, didn't you, Cersei? I hoped that you would like it."
However, her twin brother was frowning and pouting.
"I was expecting more battles, more fighting...", he said.
"At least we visited Dorne", Tyrion encouraged Jaime, patting his older brother on the right shoulder.
"Well, I'd love to visit those lands one day in person", Jaime Lannister said. "Once a Dornish prince came here to Casterly Rock to visit us. He was about as old as we, with dark skin and eyes as black as his hair, and we showed him around and had so much fun! And he even invited us to come over to Dorne someday!"
"What was his name?", the septa curiously inquired.
"Oberyn", Cersei answered. There was a slight blush in her cheeks, displaying that she felt slightly more than friendship towards the stranger.
"Oberyn Nymeros Martell...!", Septa Poppine mused. "I see him now, the naughtiest little bundle of sunshine I have ever known! It was impossible to have a tiresome day at the Water Gardens, for he had always got a trick up his sleeve and was always getting into scrapes!" She chortled to herself and to the Lannister children.
"Well, there was something of Nymeria in him", Cersei now said.
"The Rhoynar queen or her descendant, the heroine of today's story?", the septa asked.
"Of both Nymerias", little Cersei replied with a smile. "He told us that his mother was the Princess of Dorne, now that I remember. And I think it's so nice that Dornish girls can get to rule a realm or do anything else that they want... If only I had been born in Dorne!", she sighed.
"Septa Poppine", now it was Jaime who drew her attention.
"What is your comment on this story?"
"I remember that Father was a young cupbearer at the Red Keep when he first came to court, and he was as honest and good as the one in this story", the young heir said, as he stood up and looked at the shining sun.
"Your father, when young, a good cupbearer at court? That's a pleasant surprise, and I know you're telling the truth by the look in your eyes. You are rather proud of him, ain't you?", the septa stroked Jaime's golden hair once more.
"Well, I'd like to be a cupbearer at least for once, as much as I'd like to visit Dorne", Tyrion, who had been silent and listening to his older siblings' conversation, intervened.
"If you want... then we're getting thirsty already, so you can start by bringing us four cups and a pitcher of cool lemonade from the banqueting hall! It's made of Dornish lemons, by the way!", Cersei commanded, as impatiently as if she had been Princess Nymeria from the story.
Thus, Tyrion went back into the fortress, and soon he returned with the pitcher in his right hand and four stacked golden cups in the left. The lemonade was soon poured into the cups, and the young septa raised hers to propose a toast:
"Here's to sunny Dorne, to its warm people and its cool fruits!"
The four cups clinked and went then to the lips of those who held them, and soon the cups were drained at unison, so all the lemonade was rushing down their throats, refreshing three cheerful siblings and their governess.
"Well, I'm glad at least one of you liked today's story, my children!", Septa Poppine said. "Hope that tomorrow's story, though it may be different, will be equally interesting!"