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Gulltown was always a bustling city, nothing that could compare to King's Landing, or Lannisport, but it was the only city the Vale could claim. From the port, the fertile valleys of the Vale sent their produce and wares to the rest of the seven kingdoms and received in kind what they lacked. Ships always filled the harbor, most from Westerosi origin, but Essosi ships were still allowed entry. Luxuries from the free cities still found a welcoming market, gold didn't favor Andal blood over the heathens, not yet. 

But with Spring finally come and the celebrations for Lord Jasper in full swing, the city overflowed. Camps had been set up outside of the city, tents of all colors and sizes dotted the landscape to house those members of the houses not high enough to warrant rooms in the city. It was alive with more activity than had been seen in many years, and coin flowed into the markets and smiths, to the whorehouses Jasper had not been able to shut down, to the tailors and seamstresses. It was a grand tourney that could not have been held anywhere else in the Vale. The Eyrie had just been reopened for the season, the winter having been spent at the Gates of the Moon. But, it's location was not welcoming to the amount of outsiders who now flocked to the realm. Only Gulltown would do, and so far it had proved a most welcoming city to its visitors. 

Inside the Grafton's keep, away from the influx of peers and underlings, Lord Jasper had taken up residence in Lord Grafton's rooms, so generously donated to him for the duration of his stay. The rooms had the feel of each of the seven kingdoms and of the cities of Pentos. The pious lord could not appreciate the beauty in things made by heathens and had had them removed from his sight. There was much to do, even with the tourney and feasts a few days off. Most attendees had arrived already, but stragglers, hopeful hedgeknights and sellswords, still poured in. Details of that nature had been left to a steward to oversee, Jasper's instructions had been clear enough regarding those matters. 

The time was drawing near, and today, it was a matter that only he and his septon Uncle knew of that required his attention. The door to the study opened but the young lord's eyes remained on the sheets of parchment. 

"You have sent Danwell away, I hear. He caused some commotion in his departure, my lord." 

Jasper glanced up to see Septon Gilwood, grandfatherly in appearance, but a harder man than any Jasper had known. The older man came to rest in a seat near the desk, his eyes only flicking briefly to the parchments on it, before continuing to the stained glass windows behind his grandnephew. "Words, rumors, are spreading already, so I must assume it was a completely necessary order."

Youthful and arrogant, his lips pressed together, trying to determine if his mentor was being reproachful. It did not happen often, and for good reason, but from time to time even Gilwood forgot his place. "I sent him to the Bloody Gate. It is unfortunate he should miss the tourney, but he is of better use guarding those gates. It is quite an honor to bestowed the duty, something it appears many have forgotten." He leaned back, blonde hair catching the colored light that streamed in. House Lannister might have had hair the color of beaten gold, but the strong Andal blood of the Arryns often produced flaxen hair. Much preferable in Jasper's opinion. A broad young man, he was an imposing figure already at the age of six and ten, and the maester seemed to think he had another growth period before he would be physically mature. "More to the point, my uncle has proven himself to be most unsupportive of our plans." Jasper was still rankled that the man had wed Marsella to a Tully against his wishes. Had there not be a betrothal in place, he could have overruled the act of insolence. "I could not allow him the chance to interfere, not now." He picked up the sheets that he had been reading for the fourth time since receiving them. "We have our answer, uncle. We will announce our intentions at the final feast." 

Septon Gilwood looked back to his young nephew, arm outstretched to receive the papers. He knew what they most hold, but wanted to read them for himself regardless. Much work had gone into this deal, much prayer and fasting to make sure that the Seven approved of their actions. And now, it seemed it had all come together. The contract was long, the negotiations had been arduous at times and many conditions and clauses had needed to be added before both sides were content with the outcome. 

It took some time for the old septon to read through everything, and then read it again. The time passed in utter silence between the two. They had a comfortable relationship with each other, loved each other though few outsiders would identify it as such. Jasper was closer to the man than any other of his family, no matter how that seemed to pain his mother. Silence did not disturb the men, there was no need to fill the air with idle words. 

"Pentos?" Gilwood spoke at last, choosing his first question carefully. There were many terms he would want to discuss at length, but this seemed the safest to begin with. His eyes were questioning, hard and honest as always. 

"It is a heathen city full of debauchery. The gods will favor us, and the city will provide the gold needed to do what we must. The free company will have their share of it as payment, the rest for us to pay our own men and to go to the building of a great Sept. We will take the city easily, uncle, and the other cities will tremble before they think to act out against us." Fire lit up his pale blue eyes, his muscles flexed at the thought of being there to plunder the unholy city. "We will lay waste to it, and move on to ancient Andalos. Repent and convert, or suffer our holy vengeance." 

"As the Seven have ordained, so we must act." The septon replied simply. His nephew was blessed by the gods and not one to act without having received a sign and assurance. "Let us discuss the rest of these terms so that I may understand them fully." 

The sun had set by the time the two men finished deliberating over every detail. Septon Gilwood excused himself to the Sept that he might give service to the faithful. Jasper remained behind, the many tasks of the day not yet finished. By the tourney's end he needed to have gathered an army of the faithful, a call to arms would be sent out for those who had been unable to attend. Let the Westerori Faith in King's Landing and Oldtown be weary of his actions. They could not easily come out against him, for he did it in their name and the name of the gods, for now at least. Come the future, when he could return to pass judgement on the hypocrites and scoundrels who had infested the clergy, they would fear him, they would answer for their sins. 

And yet, somehow more pressing, was the need of a wife. He could not allow Leonella to inherit, woman and wed. Nor was he fond of Danwell standing to inherit should the Stranger take him, everything would be undone. He needed a wife by tourney's end and a babe in her belly before he could leave for Essos. Jasper looked down at the other letters on his desk, many of them invitations to dine with the various lords of the realm who had daughters of suitable age. He had gone through their lineages and had narrowed his options down to just a handful. He would need to pray on it, to seek guidance from the Crone, the Maiden, to know who would be blessed to be his wife.