A House Targaryen story set immediately after the Targaryen wars of conquest, focusing on the lives, struggles and accomplishments of Aegon Targaryen and his descendants.
This story will take place over several generations and through the viewpoints of a wide variety of characters from Kings and Queens, Kingsguard, and rebels, and everyone in between. The story, while primarily focusing on Westeros, will take place over a large area ranging from the frozen wastes of the North, the deserts of Dorne, the pirate hideouts of the Stepstones to the Free City of Norvos and beyond.
The North is the largest region in all of Westeros, but has a relatively small population despite its size. The landscape is made up of tundra, large lakes and forests and many castles and keeps are made of timber as opposed to stone. Northerners mostly hold to the old gods, worshiping nameless nature spirits, with Weirwood trees being paramount to their faith, there are few Knights in the north. The armies of the North are mostly heavy lancers and heavy infantry who fight in chainmail and leather as opposed to plate. House Stark has ruled over the north from the fortress of Winterfell for thousands of years but at the beginning of our Story, Torrhen Stark has sworn fealty to the Dragonlord Aegon Targaryen, becoming known to his people as the King-Who-Knelt, though his fealty would see his house confirmed as rulers of the north and he would be named the first Warden of the North, an important title as raids from the wildlings beyond the wall are common.
The Vale of Arryn
As ''High as Honor'' are the words of house Arryn and they stand true. The mountains and valleys of the Vale are home to some of the oldest and proudest houses in Westeros, with house Arryn traditionally ruling from the mountain fortress the Eyrie, far above the clouds. The Vale is known for its chivalry, honor, and reliance on mounted knights and men-at-arms, fighting in plate armor, often against the rebellious mountain clans, though it takes much to rouse the might of the Vale to full-fledged war. While its location, being cut off from much of Westeros by the mountains of the moon, makes it so that it is relatively isolated, It is home to one of Westeros's largest cities, Gulltown. At the time of our story, The Vale has recently capitulated to Visenya, the Dragonlords Aegon's sister-wife, though they repelled an attack on Gulltown early in the conquest, destroying much of the Targaryen fleet and seeing Aegon's uncle Daemon, master of the fleet killed, though they in turn have lost their own fleet which has caused their traditional vassals, the Three Sisters to rebel against house Arryn. The Vale is currently ruled by a boy of 8, Ronnel Arryn, who along with his mother and regent rode for Oldtown for Aegon's coronation.
The Riverlands
The riverlands are second only behind the reach in their fertility, with the countless rivers and streams of the region ensuring the prosperity of the hundreds of farmsteads and holdfasts. The riverlanders have traditionally never been allowed to enjoy the fruits of their land as they have been under the yoke of both the stormlands and most recently the tyranny of Harren the Black and his Ironborn. Because of its central location, the Riverlands are often the first to suffer in times of war, with its rivers and streams seeing more than their fair share of blood. However at the time of our story, the rivermen have recently risen up to join the Dragonlord in overthrowing ''Black'' Harren, with their forces making up the bulk of Aegon's army as his conquests come to a close for a time. Edmyn Tully, lord of the fortress of Riverrun has been appointed Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, for the first time in recent memory, the lords of the rivers will be free to oversee their own land, albeit under the watchful eye of the Dragonlord.
The Westerlands
The Westerlands are a land of riches, with its hilly terrain and rocky crags containing mines that supply most of Westeros's gold and silver, and often rulership over the Westerlands brings the title the richest man in Westeros along with it At the beginning of our story, the Westerlands have recently submitted to the Dragonlord, though unlike the previous regions, the proud lords of the Westerlands had to be humbled by dragonfire, with the three dragons of house Targaryen bringing fire and blood to the mighty host that the Kings of the Westerlands and the Reach brought to oppose them. The golden shields and armor of the Westerlands knights did nothing to save them from the fires above and many of them burned alongside their men, including the brother of the current ruler of the Westerlands. Loren Lannister managed to escape the field of fire, leaving behind the four thousand dead men of the reach and the westerlands, but rather than submit his fortress of casterly rock to Dragonfire, chose to swear fealty to the Dragonlord, though one has to wonder how strong bonds made under threat of Dragonfire hold.
The Iron Islands
The Iron Islands are a harsh land, with harsh people to go along with it. The inhospitable and barren rocks of their homeland causing the Ironborn to look to other lands to make their wealth, though some mines of tin and lead are present on the islands, House Hoare has led the axeman raiders of the Ironborn to new heights, conquering the Riverlands and extracting their wealth, often through violence, and the tyrannical ''Black'' Harren Hoare had recently raised one of the greatest fortresses in Westeros, Harrenhall. When the riverlords rose against his tyranny under the banner of the Dragonlord it is said the old King laughed, content to let this upstart ''Dragon'' break himself along the massive walls. In the end the walls of Harrenhall did not save ''Black'' Harren, and he and his five sons burned alongside the entire garrison, servant and king all sharing in the flames of death. At the beginning of our story, the Iron Islands are in a state of chaos, with both a drowned priest and a powerful warlord determined to lead their people to victory against the conquering Dragon.
The Reach
The Reach is a land of chivalry and plenty, where the wine flows as freely as the countless fields of flowers and grass. The fertility of the Reach has caused it to be known as the breadbasket of the Westerosi continent. The most populous region of Westeros, it is said that whoever controls the Reach commands 70,000 swords, lances, and all the chivalry of the Reach. Many great cities are present in this land, with the city of Oldtown being the most prosperous in Westeros, with the High Septon of the faith making his seat here, as well as the Maesters of the Citadel, the foremost seekers of knowledge in the land. If Westeros can be considered a crown, the Reach is its crown jewel. Despite this power, the knights and men-at-arms of the Reach burned alongside those of the Westerlands, with the mighty King Mern Gardener, his sons, his brothers all perishing on the field of fire, thus ending his line. At the beginning of our story, the Dragonlord Aegon has secured the surrender of both the fortress of Highgarden and the great city of Oldtown, giving the steward Harlan Tyrell the title of Lord Paramount of the Reach for his wisdom in surrendering the city of Highgarden, earning the anger of those lords of more noble blood, but the Dragonlord does not care of what once was, only what is to come.
The Stormlands:
The Stormlands are a diverse region. Heavily forested for much of its expanse, it is famed for its coast, which is frequently battered by storms from the narrow sea. It is thinly populated, with much of its population living deep in rainy villages of moss covered cottages deep in the forest, among the streams and brooks heading out into the bay, though the stormlands is overseen by the great fortress of Storms End. The region is famed for its warriors. The southern stormlands are much less forested, and the marcher lords, whose proud castles sit upon sand and grassy plains guard the south from the Dornish, with whom the Stormlanders fought frequently in the past. At the beginning of our story, the Stormlands have capitulated to the Dragonlord Aegon, with its King, the Storm King Argilac Durrandon being slain in single combat by Orys Baratheon, the rumored half brother of the Dragonlord when he resisted the Targaryen demand for fealty. The Stormlands are now ruled by Orys, alongside Argilacs daughter, his wife Argella. Whatever is to come for the Targaryens, the Stormlands and Orys Baratheon are sure to follow.
The Crownlands
While not a true Kingdom, the Crownlands constitute one of the most important territories for the Iron throne. The islands of the gullet are home to the Targaryens oldest vassals, most of them with Valyrian ancestry and many sharing blood with the Dragonlord, most notably the Velaryons of Driftmark. West of the gullet, following blackwater bay as it enters Westeros is the site of Kings Landing, the location where the Dragonlord Aegon built the Aegonfort is present, as is the fledgling Targaryen capitol. The southern crownlands are home to the heavily forested Kingswood, which at the time of our story was severely burnt in the conquest, sending many refugees to the site of the new planned capitol. To the north are several proud houses and the cities of Duskendale and the surrounding castles of Rosby and Stokesworth, which were among the first to be brought under the Targaryen banner.
Dorne
Dorne is a land as hot as the fires that burn within its people. Much of the southern Kingdom is made up of barren and arid wastelands, though oases can be found among the sands, which range anywhere from red to white and everything in between. The eastern coast of Dorne is the seat of power of House Martell, which has ruled Sunspear since the migration of the Rhoynar, and while much of Dorne is inhospitable, the rivers that flow into Eastern Dorne makes the region prosperous enough, and many fruits that are prized by the other regions of Westeros are grown in the east of Dorne, or imported across the narrow sea. At the time of our story, Dorne is the last Westerosi kingdom unconquered by the Dragonlord, who has ceased his conquests in order to consolidate his power, for the time being. The current ruler of Dorne is the aged Meria of Dorne, who despite her blindness and feeble condition, inspires much loyalty from her Dornish vassals.
The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros
World Map Introduction: Part 1 (Other Cultural Regions/Essos Overview)
The pine forests, bogs and marshes of Crackclaw Point are the setting of many stories and tales, tales of a proud but misunderstood people. The clawman of Crackclaw point are seen as unsophisticated and primitive to some, but there are perhaps no fiercer people in Westeros, both in battle and loyalty. Though distrustful of outsiders, our story begins with the Clawmen of Cracklaw Point having been among the first to swear loyalty to the Targaryens, with Visenya and her dragon Vhagar making a trip there in which the Clawmen immediately swore fealty to Visenya, with their loyalty being rewarded by Visenya with the promise that the Clawmen would serve no master but the Targaryens for time eternal
The Three Sisters:
The islands of Sweetsister, Longsister, and Littlesister make up the island chain known as the Three Sisters. The sistermen were once a free people, led by Pirate Kings who held dominion over the Bite, before eventually being conquered in a brutal war by the North, the brutality of which has caused a long standing resentment between the two people. Following this the Vale of Arryn and the North fought conflicts of various lengths for control of the islands, with the Sisters bearing the brunt of these conflicts. At the time of our story, the islands are known to be a den of smugglers, sin and debauchery, while the Sistermen have raised Marla Sunderland as their queen, wanting once more to be a free people. These small Islands have not escaped the Dragonlord Aegon's notice and he has instructed his Warden of the North, Torrhen Stark to make preparations to retake the islands and end the rebellion, though he has changes planned for the long suffering Sisters.
Skagos:
Skagos is a large island to the far north of Westeros, part of it going past the wall, making it in theory the northernmost point of the King of Westeros's authority as the island is loosely under the influence of House Stark, though in truth this bond is near nonexistent as many fear to even speak of the ''stoneborn'' or the Skagosi who inhabit these isles, much less exert rule over them. The Skagosi are a large people who are seen by their Northern neighbors as complete savages who practice cannibalism and lure ships to shore and slaughter those that survive, stealing their goods, though it cannot be said how much of this is rumor and how much is fact. Despite their apparent savage nature, the islands are rich with fish and the rumored existence of unicorns on the island draws some small number of brave traders, who sell the goods gained on Skagos for a fortune.
The Free Folk:
North of the wall lies the realm of the Free Folk, or the Wildlings as most Westerosi refer to them. The tribes of the Free Folk are beyond the count as are their languages and customs, though once every few centuries a warlord will arise and unite many of the clans often attempting to overwhelm the Night's Watch, mostly with limited success. While full fledged invasions are rare, raids are not and the lands south of the wall know the sight of wildling raiders well, wearing pelts of sealskin and wielding weapons of driftwood. Despite their ferocity in raids, the Free Folk have their own code and honor in their own way.
The Neck:
The Neck is among the most inhospitable regions in Westeros, filled with bogs and swamps, quicksand and Lizard lions, but it is this inhospitibility which lends itself to one of the most defensible positions in Westeros, Moat Cailin, the crumbling fortress which separates the North from the other six Kingdoms, and a fortress which it is said could repel attacks 10 times greater than its garrison. The inhabitants of this land are the Crannogman, a diminutive people, insultingly called bog devils or frog eaters by other Westerosi. They live in small thatch villages among the swamp, and despite their small size are notoriously hard to subdue in war.
The Shield Islands
The Shield Islands, often referred to as the four shields or simply the shields are an island chain owing fealty to the ruler of the reach, with the responsibility of defending the entrance to the Mander river from the ironborn, of which they have clashed many times over the centuries. The shield islanders are a people known for their prowess at sea.
The Arbor:
The Arbor is one of the wealthiest regions in all of Westeros, famed for its warm weather and production of the finest wines in Westeros and beyond. Much like the Reach, Chivalry and knighthood are paramount in this fertile island and it is protected by the largest fleet in Westeros, while trading ships regularly sail as far as Qarth in the east. At the time of our story the Island is currently ruled by the young lord Perwyn Redwyne, who is in attendance at Aegon's coronation in Oldtown.
White Harbor:
The city of White Harbor is one of the 5 largest cities in Westeros, and by the far the largest settlement north of the Neck. The region is an anomaly in the North due to its ruling house, House Manderly having been exiled from the Reach centuries before the events of our story and being given the lands by a Stark King. Because of this, White Harbor mainly follows the faith of the seven, and knights are common. The Manderlys great hall is called the Merman's court and is known for its splendor and trading reputation. At the time of our story, The Warden of the North Torrhen Stark has tasked House Manderly with putting down the rebellion on the Three Sisters to the south.
The Northern Clans:
To survive in the mountainous north just south of the wall is no easy feat yet the forty northern mountain clans have managed just that. Living in small clan settlements and holdfasts the Northern Clans have a reputation for being stubborn, rude, and most importantly fearless in battle where they wield two handed greatswords and great axes. Due to their proximity to the Wall, it is often the Northern Clans that suffer the most from Wildling raids. The Northern Clans swear fealty to House Stark.
Essos:
-Individual Regions/Cultures will be added as they become relevant in the AAR
The Dragons Realm Chapter One Port of Oldtown 2nd First Moon, 7999
Aegon Targaryen stood in silence upon the quay, the light pink streaks of the clear sky slowly giving way to the night, illuminating the Honeywine river as it flowed into the bay, enough light still visible to contrast the water of the river mixing with the dark waters farther off in the bay. It was a cool afternoon with a light breeze coming in from the bay, and though growing late, the port was still very busy.
Fishmongers packed up their stalls, occasionally pleading with a sailor to take their stock at half price while traders from a dozen lands loaded and unloaded ships, speaking in many tongues, most in the common tongue of Westeros but some in languages foreign to the young Targaryen. Looking at the ships in the harbor closest to him he made out the distinctive vessel of the Summer Islanders, a hulking Swan ship, its great white sails fluttering in the gentle breeze, its eagle figurehead slowly rocking up and down with the current of the bay.
He heard a commotion behind him and turned to see a small group of sailors, obviously drunk stumbling along the bayfront.
Stormlanders He thought to himself, recognizing their accents before correcting himself. My people now.
It was a strange thought, for the past two years Aegon had been campaigning tirelessly and without reprieve against the various kingdoms of the continent of Westeros, one by one bringing them under the black and red banner of his house both by fire and fealty, six kingdoms, one king. Upon the arrival of his older sister and wife Visenya that conquest would end…for the time being.
The sobering truth in Aegon's mind was that the coming transition from warrior and conqueror to king and ruler was one that he was not entirely ready to make. He had proven he could kill and intimidate the various inhabitants of Westeros, force them into submission by threats of dragonfire, and when that failed, in pitched battle, but to rule them, to keep the peace in thousands of villages, castles, holdfasts, and farms, to keep the peace between millions of people of vastly different cultures would be an entirely different task all together.
Aegon was shaken from his thoughts by his sister-wife Rhaenys, who was standing beside him, her silver hair illuminated from the light of the tower in front of them.
''It's beautiful isn't it.'' She said softly, gazing up at the Hightower, an enormous lighthouse and castle a distance offshore, positioned upon the isle of battle.
The Hightower was the highest tower in the known world, its white marble extending some 700 feet into the sky, its large fire shining like a beacon through the darkening sky, proud for all to see. Despite its marble makeup, its base was made up of plain black stone blending into the dark water and night, which gave the white tower the appearance of floating up from the bay, unattached to land.
''It has its charms, but on the back of a dragon it sits as small as any structure.'' Aegon said, he did not share his sister's wonder as he had seen it before when he had been much younger with his older sister and wife Visenya.
''Do you think it's true?'' Rhaenys asked, her purple eyes still fixed upwards.
''What is?'' Aegon asked.
''When we visited the Citadel one of the Maesters said one of the theories as to the tower's creation was it was built by the Valyrian Freehold thousands of years ago, the black stone on the bottom is similar….maybe our ancestors built this'' Rhaeneys said with a smirk, a common look she took on when she found something interesting.
Aegon shook his head ''Maesters say a lot of things…it doesn't make it true.''
Rhaeneys raised her eyebrows ''Still……''
''Dragonstone was the westernmost outpost of the Freehold, that's what our Father always said and I'll trust his words over a Maester any day, no matter the chain he wears.'' Aegon said cynically, as was his manner.
''He'd be proud of you, Aegon.'' Rhaeneys said, her eyes returning to the tower. Their father Aerion was a quiet and humble man but never lacked for tales passed down of the Freehold of old, he had died only 3 years prior clutching at his heart at a feast, an activity he was fond of.
''If he had sent me and Visenya to tour east instead of west, perhaps we'd be in Pentos right now.'' Aegon said, while he enjoyed tales of the old freehold, his interest had always lain west of Dragonstone, an ambition his father encouraged by funding him and his older sister Visenya on tours of a small number of Westeros cities, Oldtown and the Arbor among them. Furthermore to celebrate Aegon's first victory, the burning of a Volantene fleet in aid of Pentos and Myr, their father had presented him with a gift, a carved fifty foot long table in the shape of Westeros, which Aegon had used to plan his invasion of the continent after his father had died.
''I'm glad he didn't, it is a great achievement to be King of six of the seven kingdoms.''Rhaeneys replied, the familiar smirk reappearing.
Aegon knew his sister well enough to to recognize when she was teasing him and gave out a small laugh ''You think we should have kept going….conquered Dorne?''
Rhaenys shrugged ''We had the momentum, why stop.''
''The Dragons are tired…..we've ridden them hard for two years….besides, we've overextended ourselves, we have enough trouble to deal with it as it is….I must consolidate my power before taking Dorne.'' Aegon said.
Both his dragon Balerion and Rhaenys's Meraxes were the two largest of the Targaryen's three dragons but he had sensed them growing tired as of late, so he had set them loose to go west of Oldtown into the Sunset sea, to hunt and rest on the many islands there, he had no fear that they wouldn't return, they always did, though before doing so he made sure to make a dramatic entrance in front of the high septon, lord Hightower and all his army, some 15,000 men.
His comments on internal trouble were also true, despite the burning of Harren the Black and his kin within Harrenhal, he had never officially secured the loyalty of the Iron Isles and chaos had erupted among the Ironborn warlords, with conflicting reports of both a powerful lord and drowned priest seeking to keep the Dragon Kings influence from spreading to their islands.
Meanwhile, the Three Sisters, a small island chain with an unsavory reputation in the Bite, a body of water between the North and the Vale of Arryn, famed for its smugglers, had risen up in revolt. The Sisters as they were known had been fought over for generations between the North and the Vale, never being independent until an opportunity presented itself. During the early months of Aegon's conquest he had sent his sister Visenya, her Dragon Vhagar, along with his Uncle Daemon Velaryon, his master of ships with the fleet of Dragonstone to seize the large port city of Gulltown in the Vale. In the ensuing naval battle, their uncle was killed and many of their ships burnt before Visenya and her dragon burnt the Arryn fleet along with their Braavosi mercenary ships. The loss of House Arryns fleet however meant the Sisters could rebel with impunity, a fracturing Aegon could not allow, for fear the rest of the lords of Westeros getting ideas.
In truth Aegon did not wish to be in Oldtown, pleasant as it was, he would have preferred to leave immediately for the Iron Islands following Oldtowns surrender, but he was to be coronated by the high septon, who had urged the Lord Hightower to surrender the city without bloodshed, in sight of many lords of Westeros. It had been 3 days since the Oldtown gates had opened to him and the Lord Hightower swore fealty to Aegon and his sister, mounted upon their dragons and surrendered the city, and yet he still waited on his sister Visenya to return from the Vale, with the young lord Arryn and his mother along with many other of the mountain lords, Visenya had sent a raven some time prior saying they had passed the ruins of Harrenhall but there had been no word since then.
The days in Oldtown had largely been restless as he waited for his older sister-wife to return. He and Rhaenys had toured most of the city, spending a day at the Citadel where Aegon had requested to see the black candles of Valyria, something the maesters had balked at but Aegon was not a man to be refused. That first night their tour continued, climbing to the top of the Hightower with the Lord Manfred Hightower of Oldtown, who had prepared their chambers at its highest level. They had walked through many of the cobbled streets to the thieves market and the ragpipers wynd, visited many of the small isles and the lord Hightowers son Ser Lyonel, had taken them on a tour of all the seven septs of the city and their gardens, the Starry Sept the grandest among them and the site of Aegon's coming coronation.
Rhaenys had payed a visit to the local motherhouse of Silent Sisters and made a sizable donation in Aegon's name, to which he had snorted and said that if he was ever caught giving that much coin to the faith then a skinchanger from the east must have taken his place, to which Rhaenys had only smiled and proceeded to give a second gift in his name, more to annoy him than from any sort of piety, Aegon and his sisters were not particularly firm adherents to either their Valyrian faith or the religion of the majority of the Kingdoms, the faith of the seven.
''It really is beautiful'' Rhaenys said, somewhat wistfully, her eyes trained on the hightower and the bay beyond, in which ships were both leaving and approaching the several miles of Oldtowns ports, the pink streaks gone from the sky leaving the ships as only shadows in the night.
Aegon knew his sister well enough to catch her meaning and shook his head ''I won't have it said that Aegon Targaryen, upon landing in Westeros, stole the seat of one of Westeros's most ancient houses and took it for his own…..no Rhaenys we will build our own capitol.''
Preparations on the new capitol were already underway, and it was these preparations that meant that Aegon's most trusted advisors, outside of his sisters, were not to be present at his coronation. Upon landing in Westeros on the blackwater rush from the bay, Aegon had his men hastily assemble a wooden fort upon the highest hill in the region, which came to be known as the Aegonfort. Orys Baratheon, Aegon's greatest friend, warrior, and rumored younger half brother, who had slain the Storm King Argilac in single combat had taken both the old Kings land and daughter for his own and sworn fealty to Aegon, during which Aegon had referred to Orys as ''his strong right hand'' and put him in charge of making the new keep livable upon his return.
In addition to this, Aegon sent his Velaryon cousins Aethen of Driftmark, the current master of ships and Corlys, sons of the late Daemon downriver on barges to transport the burnt swords from the Field of Fire and Harrenhall to the Aegonfort, in which he planned to make a throne out of them, a symbol of his victories over the huge armies of the Reach and Westerlands, and the fortress of Black Harren.
''It would take us a long time to build a place such as this'' Rhaenys said gloomily, she had been a proponent of Aegon taking Oldtown as his seat. ''Even Dragonstone would be preferable to ruling from a wooden fort.'' she continued.
Aegon sensed her unhappiness ''I cannot claim to be the King of Westeros and rule over thousands of miles of country if I rule from an island not apart of the land….and you are right what we build in our lifetime may not match this….but our descendents shall build a capitol worthy of our dynasty.
Rhaenys was silent at this.
''Besides'' Aegon continued, hoping to lighten the mood ''If I were to make my seat here we would be expected to attend the High Septons sermons at the Starry Sept…it took the man 7 days of prayer to come to the conclusion that Lord Hightower should surrender the city to us, I shudder to think how much time we would spend in that sept.''
That earned a laugh out of Rhaenys, she could never stay mad at him for long.
Suddenly there was a change in the air, a sudden wind, accompanied by shouts of both wonder and fear by those still remaining in the streets, and many a drink was spilled at the harbor winesinks as the inhabitants of Oldtown looked into the night sky with wonder and terror.
Above the main gate of Oldtown, high in the air a dragon flew slowly over the city its wings creating gusts of air that could be felt from far away, its bronze scales shining in the moonlight, Aegon smiled when he saw the silver reflection of the dragon riders hair, judging by the Dragons bronze scales it could only be his sister and her dragon Vhagar, the smallest of the 3 Targaryen dragons but still a sight to behold. With Visenya arriving that also meant the host from the Vale had arrived for his coronation, the last host expected.
He shared a look with Rhaenys who took his hand, a smile on her face.
''And so it begins.'' Aegon said quietly, watching the bronze dragon glide through the stars.
The Next Morning
Chambers of the Hightower
''Have you given any thought to my counsel given before I left for the Vale?'' Visenya asked as she helped fix the black sable cloak upon Aegon's broad shoulders.
''I have, and I think it unnecessary…I have Balerion, and this.'' Aegon said, patting his Valyrian steel hand-and-a half sword Blackfyre upon his waist, the ruby in the pommel catching rays of the morning sun through the open window.
''Then you remain a fool, even if a royal one…I had hoped you would have seen the value in the idea.'' Visenya said sternly, fastening the cloak and stepping away.
It was true that Aegon loved his older sister and wife, but it was a different sort of love than Rhaenys. Visenya was a harsher, more noble kind of beauty, and while Rhaenys was playful and curious Visenya was stern and blunt of speech, though effective and intelligent in council, duty, and war. Aegon was one of the finest swords in the Kingdoms but his older sister was every bit his equal, the two training together since childhood, Aegon's Blackfyre against his older sister's Valyrian steel blade Dark Sister.
Aegon knew better than to chide his sister for her speech, he had long since grown used to it, instead sighing and walking to the open window, looking out upon the city of Oldtown.
''Our Dragons and swords were defense enough for our ancestors.'' Aegon said.
''Our ancestors did not rule six Kingdoms.'' Visenya said, joining him at the window.
Aegon was silent at that.
''It is not just for your benefit your grace, it would bind the realms closer to you, let them see their own countrymen in defense of their King, at his side in peace and war, at feasts and in the heat of battle, let it become a point of pride and honor that one of their own stands behind the King.'' Visenya continued, it was clear she had thought the idea out well.
The idea in question was the potential formation of an elite guard Visenya called the ''Kingsguard.'' She proposed that the formation be composed of seven warriors who would serve at the King's defense for life. She also insisted that each of the seven spots be reserved for a different culture of the realm, with the Vale, Riverlands, Westerlands, Reach, and Stormlands each having a representative. The further two spots would be filled with deserving warriors from either the Crownlands, the North, the Iron Islands, or Crackclaw point.
Aegon had to admit his sister made good points, but Aegon was not a man to whom trust came easily and the thought of taking seven warriors into his service was one he was uneasy with.
''And if these warriors from each region must choose between their home and their King?'' Aegon asked, resting his hands on the windowsill.
''We shall find trustworthy men, warriors of honor.'' Visenya said.
''Easier said than done,'' Aegon replied.
''These men are not as hard to find as you think….if you're looking for a man you trust to lead your guard I suggest our cousin Corlys, he is young yes but is a man of honor, brave and is one of your finest swords….apart from me of course.'' Visenya continued with a small smile on her face, she was not a woman to whom humor came often but it did so occasionally.
Aegon grunted at that and Visenya saw that victory was close and went in for the kill.
''Tell me your grace, if you were to be attacked within the Starry Sept later today, what good would Balerion do you, he cannot protect you within in buildings or palaces, no doubt he would attempt to defend you but would likely burn the sept down, with all of us in it….you need guards that can be with you at all time.'' Visenya continued.
''Seven Hells woman you are persistent…..'' Aegon said he had heard that expression used when he visited Westeros as a young man and used it quite often.
''I take that to mean a yes?'' Visenya asked, a small smile on her lips.
''If I were to say no, I would no doubt be in for a war of attrition with you…very well we shall announce it after the coronation'' Aegon said.
''I'm glad you see the value in my counsel, your grace.'' Visenya said.
Aegon snorted and was about to reply when the bells of the Starry Sept began to ring out.
''It is time'' Visenya said, her hand upon his shoulder, and Aegon nodded, and together they made the long trek to the base of the Hightower, where they met with Rhaenys at the base, taking a small skiff to shore.
Balerion and Meraxes had returned from the Sunset Sea not long after Visenya had arrived, Aegon had no specific way of summoning them but they always seemed to know when they were needed and Aegon had considered going to the sept on dragonback but there were few places to land within the city and he wanted the people of Oldtown to see their new King clearly, so he decided to go on horseback instead, taking a long route through the center of the cobbled streets to the Sept.
On the shore, Aegon's honor guard was already formed. The guard was to be led by Lord Jon Mooton of Maidenpool, a man who had lost his brother fighting against Aegon early in the conquest but had become a trusted follower of the Dragonlord after leading the Targaryen ground forces at the Field of Fire. Edmyn Tully, the new Lord Paramount of the Riverlands was also present. The rest of the honor guard were from the regions most loyal to Aegon, Lord Crispian Celtigar was also mounted and his men constituted a fair amount of the guard, and a few Velaryon men-at-arms who did not go with Aethon and Corlys were also present. There were many of the Riverlords and their retinues present as well, who saw Aegon as their liberator and were among his most fervent supporters. There were also Clawman champions of Crackclaw Point, looking rather uncouth and plain compared to the other knights but they had all but demanded to ride alongside Visenya, who they referred to as their ''Dragon Queen''.
Aegon mounted a magnificent white stallion, the Targaryen colors hanging around its body on a caparison. He wore a full suit of black boiled leather armor with the indented dragon insignia of his house in the center, which was lined with silver and ruby, he wore a plain cloak of fine black furs which was fastened by a heavy chain of silver with a ruby dragon broach in the middle, and had Blackfyre at his side in a sheath of black leather. As the guard slowly made their way down the cobbled street, the Dragonlord looked every bit a Dragon King. The three Dragons, the Black Balerion, Silver Meraxes and Bronze Vhagar all followed from the skies, their wings creating winds all throughout the city.
As they passed the harbor, drunken sailors would poke their heads out of the small wine sinks and harborside taverns, many too drunk to even notice the dragons above them but still giving out drunken wordless cheers for the guard.
As they turned the corner from the harbor into the main cobbled street that led to the sept they were met with one of the largest crowds Aegon had ever seen, each side of the street was packed to the brim with the citizens of Oldtown and the surrounding communities yelling a wordless cheer, though many looked uneasily up to the sky, where the Dragons circled and kept a close eye on their masters.
''They love us Aegon.'' Rhaenys said happily, throwing one of her silver rings into a crowd of children who immediately began searching for it.
''They love your silver especially.'' Aegon said with a snort as the large column continued its slow procession to the Sept, beckoned forward by the ringing bells and the cheers of the people.
''Your sister speaks the truth.'' Lord Paramount Edmyn Tully said, riding alongside Aegon, his orange-red hair blowing in the breeze of Dragon wings. ''They have never seen anything like this….they shall remember it for all their days.''
Aegon nodded ''Days I hope shall be peaceful.''
Edmyn was silent for a moment then chuckled ''Seven Hells but, I've never seen anything like this either, to be riding through the city of Oldtown, dragons above, a procession of men hailing from Dragonstone to Seaguard…. A strange turn of events from just months ago when we were under the boot of House Hoare, but a welcome turn to be sure, though I fear ''Black'' Harren found them rather unwelcome.''
Aegon gave a small laugh at that, he had come to appreciate the Lord of Riverruns whit and way with words. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a large contingent of Maesters from the citadel in the crowd, having come to get a glimpse of the Dragons and the new King.
The Lord of Riverrun face grew serious then ''Your Grace, my people have proved themselves at the Field of Fire, I hope you have come to appreciate their bravery.''
Aegon nodded ''They represented their lands well.''
This was true, while later songs would speak of the Targaryen victory against the forces of the Westerlands and the Reach at the Field of Fire as a victory won solely by the 3 Targaryens and their Dragons, the Riverlander forces played a significant role in the battle and acquitted themselves with discipline and honor under Jon Mooton.
''I ask that when you sail for the Iron Islands to put down the rebellions there, the men of the Riverlands be given the honor of making up your force, we have suffered much at the hand of the murderous Ironborn and wish for vengance.'' Edmyn said.
Aegon paused a moment to consider it and then nodded ''It is granted, though I make it clear to you now this vengeance shall be limited to the field of battle, there will be no slaughter or rape of innocents, Ironborn or not when I take this crown they become my people.
Before Edmyn could respond, the grand walls of the Starry Sept came into view, its black marble walls and ornate glass windows shining in the sun, the large plaza in front of it was occupied by the men of house Hightower, at the forefront was Lord Manfred Hightower, who was an aged man of around sixty whos white hair was balding, though despite his age Aegon had come away with the few dinners they had shared with the impression that the man was capable and intelligent. Standing behind him were three of his sons, his eldest and heir Ser Addam Hightower, a thin black haired man with an equally thin mustache, Leyton who served as a septon, performing various duties in Oldtowns seven septs as well as the youngest Ser Garmon, a young man of 17 who took after his oldest brother in appearance. Lord Manfreds daughters and Grandchildren stood in the row behind him, with his most trusted household knights and lords of the surrounding villages bringing up the rear.
Past the plaza, on the top of the steps to the Starry Sept was the High Septon, who in going with tradition abandoned his earthly name when he took the title. The High Septon was a rather unassuming man, blonde of hair with a thick mustache, garbed in a rather plain robe with thin threads of golden trim and apart from his crown of crystal, he wore no other jewels. His guards were more impressive, they were called the Warriors sons, and they were certainly more fitting with the luxurious reputation of Oldtown than their septon. They wore armor of silver, though the tops of hair shirts were visible, with rainbow cloaks around their shoulders, their shields were centered with a rainbow sword as their insignia. Among the Warriors sons was Ser Lyonel Hightower, Lord Manfreds second born son, a heavyset man that had inherited the silver hair some Hightowers were known for, not too dissimilar from the Targaryens. Out of all the Hightowers, Lyonel was the one Aegon had gotten to know best over the past few days in Oldtown as he had escorted them on their tour of the seven septs and unlike many pious men Aegon had encountered was quick with a joke and a laugh.
The crowd closest to the septs entrance was mostly of nobility and they had the grace to stand in silence as Aegon dismounted, though many had their eyes trained at the dragons in the sky, the crowds farther down the street still continued their raucous cheers.
Rhaenys stood beside him and took his hand quietly ''Are you ready for this brother?''
Aegon nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the sept as he slowly walked toward it.
His sister was not merely talking about his coming coronation which was to take place inside the Sept but also his conversion. While many would balk at the thought of abandoning the faith of their ancestors, Aegon and his sisters were not particularly devout, with Aegon being of the mindset that the accomplishments of him and his house had more to do with the aptitude of its members as opposed to divine will.
As Aegon made his way to the High Septon, the man bowed his head in respect, a surprise to some of his guards, many of whom looked at Aegon and his sister-wives with thinly veiled disgust.
''The faith welcomes you, Aegon Targaryen, both to Oldtown and to the brotherhood of our faith.'' The man said.
Aegon nodded, and the septon held out his hand in a gesture to the entrance to the sept and together he and Aegon walked inside, the warriors sons, his sisters, and select members of his honor guard, with various other lords, the young lord Arryn and his mother among them. Bringing up the rear, while many others crowded at the entrance.
The High Septons seven day contemplation on whether to surrender the city made all the sense in the world to Aegon as he knelt on the cold marble floor of the sept, the high septon rattling off about each of the seven gods, anointing Aegon with each of the respective 7 oils, before finally at long last proclaiming Aegon Targaryen, Ser Aegon Targaryen, giving him the title of knight to much applause, and welcoming the new King into the faith of the seven.
The second part of the coronation went much quicker, with the high septon naming Aegon Targaryen the first King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First men, and lord and protector of the Seven Kingdoms. The high septon had been told in advance on what to say, and many an eye was raised when Aegon was named King of the Rhoynar and the seven Kingdoms, as Dorne had not yet been conquered, but it was clear to all involved that Aegon saw the independence of Dorne as a state that would not last much longer.
Finally, the High Septon took Aegon's crown, a heavy band of forged Valyrian steel, forged with rubies and placed upon the conqueror's head. This was a notion that Aegon himself found quite ridiculous, in truth he had been coronated once before soon after landing in Westeros, albeit with a much smaller crowd, and he had worn the crown ever since, but Visenya had eventually talked him into the practicality of a second coronation in the greatest city in the Seven Kingdoms.
King Aegon Targaryen, First of his Name, rose from the cold marble floor to the applause of his new people, with the cheering going on for quite some time. As he stood in the sept, overlooking the sept, Rhaenys took his hand.
''Long live the King'' she smiled.
Some Time Later Plaza outside the Starry Sept
The Hightower, though a luxurious dwelling and palace was as one might expect totally incapable of hosting the amount of lords, knights, and courtiers that had come from all over the realm for Aegon's coronation, so the decision was made for the Coronation feast to be helf outside the sept in the great plaza, with over 100 large wooden tables being set up for the event. The King's table was a magnificent one of oak with gold and silver inlay while the closer one got to the steps, the tables were simple wooden trestle tables.
It was an uneven gathering of lords to say the least. The majority of those present were lords of the Reach, who had the shortest journey to make as well as the Riverlords, who constituted the majority of Aegon's forces upon arriving in Oldtown. The stormlords were almost completely absent, as Aegon trusted his half brother Orys to administer oaths of fealty to the King in own name. The Westerlanders were notably absent, with Loren Lannister claiming to have business to attend to, and most of the lords having already sworn fealty after the field of fire. The Northerners too were in short supply, Aegon had tasked Torrhen Stark, his new Warden of the North, to make preparations to put down the rebellion in the Sisters, whether personally or by delegation. He entrusted Torrhen Stark with the duty of collecting oaths of fealty in his place as well, having a sense that the Northerner was an honorable man. Aegon knew little of the northerners but he sensed they would be uncomfortable in Oldtown, its wealth and exuberance a ''stark'' contrast to their more simple and sturdy realm. That was not to say none were present as a few of the younger, more adventurous lordlings had made the long journey south, eager to see the world. There were a good deal of Clawmen and other crownlanders present as well.
There were no Ironborn present at the coronation, in truth Aegon knew little of the exact situation there except that there was both a priest and a noble both vying for power in the islands no doubt causing death and suffering, which Aegon immediately planned to attend following his coronation.
There were 3 Lord Paramounts present at the feast, Harlan Tyrell of the Reach, Edmyn Tully of the Riverlands and the young Ronnel Arryn, a young fair haired boy of eight who had made the trip with his mother and regent Sharra Arryn with a rather small host, escorted by Visenya.
Harlan Tyrells retinue was rather paltry, even compared to the young lord of the Vale, who had only brought a small amount of lords and knights. He had only just been recently named the Lord of Highgarden and had not had time to consolidate his position, as such most of his retinue were hedge knights of low renown or nobles from minor families, in contrast to the great retinues many of the Reach lords brought.
The first part of the feast took two hours, with Aegon receiving oaths of fealty from the lords of the Reach and a small amount of Vale lords. When it came time for Ronnels oath, the young boy had recited the words and quickly asked Visenya when he might ride Vhagar again, to which the Queen had smiled and promised him another ride around the Eyrie on her next trip to the Vale, referencing the fact he had received a ride when he had given up his crown.
The day was a warm one, and the feast was rich and plentiful, yet despite the lavishness of the events there were some tense moments. At one of the farther benches a young Reach lordling from a small yet proud family had stood up and loudly announced that he found the fact that he was seated next to the ''wild and uncivilized'' Clawmen insulting to a man of his position, causing a silence to fall over the feast.
Visenya, ever protective of the clawmen, stood up and asked the young lordling if he would prefer accommodations with her Dragon Vhagar, to which the young man had meekly sat down. There were decidedly less seating complaints after that.
Many other tense moments had occurred, specifically in the context of the Reach lords of noble blood, who were upset that Aegon had granted the Lord Paramountship of the Reach And Highgarden to what was commonly termed ''an umpjumped steward''
One such example had come when the young Lord Perwyn Redwyne, lord of the Arbor and owner of one of the largest fleets in Westeros had come to pledge fealty to the new King.
''I must congratulate you on your ascension, your grace, I remember when you visited the Arbor some years ago, I was just a boy then.'' The man had said to which Aegon had nodded and thanked him, offering condolences for the death of his father, who had hosted him and Visenya
''I hear you mean to sail to the Iron Islands your grace,and as the owner of one of the largest fleet in the realm, I should be glad to send my ships to transport your army to the Isles, the Ironborn bastards would never dare to attack such strength at sea.'' Perwyn had continued.
''I thank you for your pledge, Lord Redwyne.'' Aegon had said guardedly, he had been King a short time but he knew that such promises were seldom made out of the goodness of one's heart, a suspicion he was correct in.
''Though, I fear I will not be able to assist you fully in my current role, I feel you have received unwise counsel your grace, specifically as it pertains to Harlan Tyrell, the man was responsible for cleaning the shit in Highgarden, the upkeep of the sewers and to make him the Protector of the Reach is an insult to half a dozen noble families such as my own, who have ruled in our land longer than that line of shit-shovelers.''
Aegon was silent at that, Visenya overhearing and giving Aegon a look, the young lord was oblivious however and continued to prattle on.
''Therefore I would to pledge my fleet to your war your grace, but I feel I can do little until this matter is resolved.'' He continued on before stopping and waiting for a response.
Aegon was silent for a good while, Perwyn standing rather uncomfortably waiting for a response.
When he did respond it was in a quiet tone as to not disturb the feasting around him.
''You shall be providing those ships Lord Redwyne, as is your obligation, regardless of your current station, and I received no unwise counsel my lord, the decision to name Lord Tyrell as protector of the Reach was mine alone….your obligations as a vassal are not negotiable like a mule at market…I shall be expecting your ships at Seaguard within the fortnight my lord, but you will not be Protector of the Reach.
Perwyn was silent at that, and the King let him stew a little before continuing.
''Once your obligations are complete I shall see you are rewarded in a more appropriate manner.'' The King said.
''Your Grace?'' Perwyn asked, rather sullenly.
''I shall take on your eldest boy Ryan I believe he is called as a page, and if he proves able later as a Squire, have him sent to the Aegonfort, my new capitol, I shall take him on upon my return from the islands, in addition send the boys twin sister, my sister Rhaenys could use a handmaiden at court.'' Aegon said coolly.
Perwyn Redwyne looked pleased at that ''You do my house an honor lord, my son shall no doubt be thrilled to squire for the King.'' The young lord said, unaware of the tactical move Aegon had just made.
As Lord Redwyne walked off, Visenya shook her head.
''Damned fool'' She said
''A trend among these Reach lords I am learning.'' Aegon said, taking a sip of wine.
Things had gone more smoothly after this, with the King calling both Harlan Tyrell and Edmyn Tully to his table.
''Do you both have men you can trust?'' Aegon had asked them to which both had replied yes.
Aegon had nodded and then summoned them both to his new capital in King's Landing, to serve on what he called the small council, Harlan as the Master of Coin and Edmyn Tully as master of laws. Aegon was somewhat hesitant to recall Harlan Tyrell away from his realm when he was clearly not completely consolidated but Harlan had assured him his Castellan, Lord Wilbert Osgrey, one of his few allies in the Reach and a powerful lord was a just and diligent man more than capable of dealing with any problems that may arise.
As the feast began to wind down, Aegon stood in front of the lords and announced his intention of the formation of a Kingsguard, which would have at least one representative from each of the major Kingdoms. He bid the lords to return to their Kingdoms with this news and for interested unmarried knights to present themselves at the Aegonfort in Kings Landing for consideration after he returned from the Isles.
Following this other minor honors were handed out to those that had served Aegon well in the conquest. Edmyn Tully's eldest daughter Minisa was to be taken as a handmaiden to serve Rhaenys in court as recognition for the lord of River Runs loyalty. Visenya rewarded the clawmen by taking a girl of house Boggs as a handmaiden, though Visenya was not as pleased with the idea as Rhaenys. Finally, Harlan's son, Theo Tyrell, already a squire to his father, was taken in by Aegon as his second and primary squire. Lord Mooton was offered such an honor but preferred his children to stay in Maidenpool. In addition to this, Edmyns brother Brynden Tully, a capable man was offered command of the not yet formed city watch in the new capitol, a post which he accepted.
The feast went on long past sunset, the same pink streaks in the dark sky as the night before, with one of the Dragons in the bay, flying like a dark shadow in the night.
As Aegon sat there, looking out to the bay he let himself enjoy the peace for in the morning, preparations for the coming expedition to the Iron Islands would begin.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others.
Aegon stood at the front of the ship, his hand resting on Blackfyre, a habit despite him not expecting to see combat any time soon…or at least he hoped.
Stretched out in front of him were the choppy gray waters outside of Lordsport, the largest town in the Iron Islands and the place of their disembarkment as there was no safe anchorage directly near Pyke so they would land at the town and ride the rest of the way. He could of course ride Balerion and save himself a ride, but he planned to arrive at Pyke with a retinue, as even he was not so bold as to enter the chief fortress of the Ironborn without at least a few swords around him.
The day was as gray as the sea, with light stinging rain falling from the dark clouds as a fiercely cold wind blew through the bay.
''Largest city in the Iron Islands they say…if you can even call it a city…both Hull and Spice Town are bigger than this.'' Aegon's cousin Corlys Velaryon said referring to the two towns on the fertile island of the Velaryons, the rain dripping down his white armor and making his white cloak more of a gray.
It had taken a little over a month for the Redwyne fleet to arrive at Seaguard, time enough for both of his Velaryon cousins to arrive from their task of delivering the burned swords from Harrenhal and the Field of Fire to the capitol, where it was currently being forged into a throne.
Upon his cousins arrival to Seaguard, where they were hosted by Lord Lyonel Mallister, a Riverlord who had both personally joined and pledged many men to the expedition, Aegon had proposed his sister Visenyas idea to his cousin Corlys that he become both the first member and commander of his planned guard, the Kingsguard. Though his cousin was only 19 years of age, he was a fine sword and had acquitted himself well in the conquest, and more importantly was devoted to his older cousin. Corlys had knelt and accepted the honor, pledging to defend the King with his life and thus the Kingsguard was created in the hall of Seaguard.
Aegon had sent Visenya and Rhaenys back to the capitol to assist Orys instead of bringing them along with him, one Dragon was all he would need. He had given Visenya authority to choose the other members of his Kingsguard, and the candidates were likely gathering at the capitol at this very moment for consideration.
In regards to Lordsport, his cousin spoke true, the town was quite small, with there almost seeming to be more ships in the harbor than houses visible, though he guessed many Ironborn lived further inland in isolated hamlets, they were not a particularly communal people.
''As the Ironborn are fond of saying, the sea is their home, towns are likely to hold the women, children and old men during the raiding season.'' Aegon said.
Corlys raised his brow ''I didn't take you for an expert on matters of Ironborn society.''
Aegon chuckled ''A King should know his people, he must if he is to order them to change their ways.'' Along with studying the geography of Westeros prior to his invasion, Aegon had spent many a night hunched over the painted table in Dragonstone while a hired Maester tutored him on the complexities of the land he had ambitions to rule.
Aegon spoke true, among the things to be determined at the council in Pyke was the changes to the Ironborn way of life that would have to be made to integrate them into the Realms society.
Aethen Velaryon, Corlys's older brother, the Lord of Driftmark and the master of ships went to the prow of the ship to join them, despite being used to the seas, the stresses of overseeing the organization and transport of 260 ships and 13000 riverlander warriors had clearly weighed on him, and he had a tired and fatigued look to him.
''You sure you do not want the fleet brought to harbor, we might not be able to fit all of them but we could get a good bit.'' Aethen said.
The King shook his head ''As I remember you telling me once, a ship in the harbor is like a sword in its sheath, let them see our strength at sea, I don't expect any defiance or treachery, not after Drumm Hall and Volmark but i'd rather have a man I trust remain here with the fleet at the ready…..and it is probably for the best I dont unleash an army of Riverman on Lordsport after all they have endured at the hands of the Ironborn.''
Aethen nodded ''Noone will get the jump on us Aegon.''
The King truly did not expect any meaningful defiance or forceful resistance on the Islands, the examples he had made of the rebelling Ironborn had likely removed any ideas of resistance from the other lords. He had dealt with Qhorin Volmark first, the Lord Volmark, who had named himself King of the Iron Islands, had sent his forces to siege and plunder a neighboring fortress, no doubt expecting the King would be months away in arriving…he was wrong.
Aegon did not bother engaging the Volmark army, he did not even land his fleet, instead he rode Balerion ashore and flew to Volmark, making a demand to Qhorin that he surrender his fortress, and like Harren at Harrenhal, the lord Volmark was proud and confident that his walls would stand up to the beast and refused. Aegon had then set about burning the castle on the back of Balerion, facing little resistance as few of the garrison used bows and he stayed out of range of the Ironborns heavy throwing spears and axes. After just a few moments of burning the castle, Lord Qhorin had realized his mistake, came out of his keep and surrendered stating that it was him that he was after and his ancestral lands did not need to burn. Lord Qhorin had been captured and confined below deck in one of the other ships, his lands stripped, both the fate of Volmark and its Lord would be settled in Pyke.
The other uprising was not put down so easily. A drowned priest by the name of Lodos had gathered some 15,000 Ironborn on the Island of Old Wyk, both peasant and warrior alike. The location of the uprising was significant, as it was the place in Ironborn myth that the legendary Gray King had slain the Sea Dragon Nagga, and according to Lodos would also be the place where the false Dragon King met his end. There was much confusion among the ironborn to the rumors of Dragons as virtually all the Ironborn who were present to see the burning of Harrenhall had also met their end there. Many claimed that this so-called ''Dragon King'' had no actual Dragon and was named for his banner, which explained why so many ironborn were prepared to fight Aegon.
After dealing with Volmark, Aegon had landed his force of some 13,000 Riverlanders near Great Wyk and marched to meet Lodos in battle, outside of the keep called Drum Hall. The Ironborn, arranged in three great shield walls, had learned the truth of the matter as it related to Aegon's dragons, many to their death. Nearly 1000 Ironborn had burned to death, with several times that number sustaining wounds, and it didn't take long for Lodos's army, mostly peasants and poor freeholders, to flee the field, to which Aegon allowed them to escape. Lodos to his credit did not flee, and even attempted to slay Balerion when Aegon landed, though the Drowned priest was severely burned and later died of his wounds. Aegon's losses had amounted to just 140 men killed and wounded, many of them being overly zealous Mallister men, who, eager to avenge the years of plundering to their people, had pursued the retreating Ironborn, many of them being ambushed and slain, as a fleeing Kraken is still a kraken.
With both immediate threats dealt with and the Ironborn Lords sufficiently cowed, Aegon had messages sent to all the major islands, summoning them to meet at Pyke, the strongest fortress in the Islands and among the most ancient. Aegon had told them little except that there the future of the Iron Islands and its people would be discussed.
''All right, drop the boats, we head ashore.'' Aegon commanded, to which Aethen nodded and ordered several smaller ships lowered by rope to the side of the ship, after all the boats for the Kings retinue had been lowered another rope for climbing down was tossed over, swinging perilously in the wind on the wooden hull, with the choppy gray waves swirling below.
Aegon scaled down first, he was a strong and athletic man so it posed little trouble for him, Corlys wasn't far behind and slowly the rest of his retinue made their way down the rope into the small rowboats. The King was bringing about twenty men in all, including two lords. Jon Mooton of Maidenpool who had commanded the Targaryen ground forces at the field of fire and led Aegon's Honor Guard at Oldtown would reprise his role and command Aegon's guard, while Lyonel Mallister of Seaguard also insisted on making the trip, determined to see the Riverlanders old enemies humbled.
The last to scale down the rope was Aegon's squire Theo Tyrell, a boy of ten and son to Lord Paramount Harlan. One of the Mallister guards offered to help him down to which the lad refused , made it about halfway down before a sudden wind caused him to tumble the rest of the way down, landing with pride bruised but otherwise unharmed, which garnered a good deal of laughter from the men in the boat but a pat on the back from Corlys.
The two rowboats slowly made their way to shore, the rain letting up for a while, as the waves lessened and the fog cleared, Aegon spotted Balerion in the distance, diving into the waters and flying out, mouth full of fish. This did not escape the attention of the townsfolk of Lordsport, as a large number had gathered at the harbor, and their shock was visible from the boat, as many yells of fright were heard while the older townspeople conversed in hushed tones.
As the rowboats made it close to the harbor, a blonde haired man with a thick beard wearing a dark and faded tunic gestured them into an open spot along the harbor, and tossed them a rope, to which Aegon's men tied to a post and disembarked.
Once Aegon disembarked, the man approached and kneeled.
''Your Grace, Lordsport welcomes you….I am Triston, the headman of the town.'' The man said.
Aegon nodded and waved him to his feet.
''We have been expecting your arrival, we have prepared ponies and I shall take you to the Castle of Pyke personally, the other Lord Reavers have already arrived.'' Triston said, gesturing to the harbor, which was filled with many Longships of varying sizes, well over a dozen banners of different houses waving in the wind.
''We should get going then.'' Aegon said, nodding to his men who began to mount on the shaggy ponies, who while much smaller and less intimidating than the steeds used by Knights on the mainland, looked to be sturdy and hardy.
As Aegon made his way to a pony, Triston paused and approached him.
''Your Grace, if I may.'' He said uncertainty.
''Speak freely.'' Aegon said, crossing his arms.
''I would be a poor headman if I did not inquire about your beast before leaving….are my people safe?'' The headman of Lordsport asked.
''They are…..so long as there is no provocation you have my word no harm shall come to them.'' Aegon said, mounting up.
''I am glad to have it your Grace…and you have my word you will find no provocation here…especially at Pyke…you will be a guest there and my people do not kill guests.'' Triston said as he took the weakest pony for himself.
''An honorable notion….a pity this mercy does not extend to unarmed women and old men.'' Lord Lyonel snorted, to which he was ignored.
The retinue of around twenty men made their way past the town of Lordsport, whose expanse ended quite quickly and gave way to rocky grasslands and hills. Aegon rode at the front, with Corlys as the commander of his new Kingsguard immediately beside him. Theo Tyrell rode at his other side, mounted on a pony and holding the Targaryen banner, which was almost as big as he was. Behind them rode Lyonel Mallister, while John Mooton rode at the rear, after posting guards on the flanks.
Lord Mallister rode up to join them ''Your Grace, your sense of justice to be admired but I must say I feel as though you are being too lax with these Ironborn, for hundreds of years they raided my peoples lands, burning villages and raping and stealing our women.''
Aegon sighed ''And what do you suggest Lord Lyonel?''
''They should be purified in Dragonfire…..that town of Lordsport looks undefended, I suggest you order your beast to purge this race of rapists and thieves…an eye for an eye.'' Lord Lyonel said, his voice rising in intensity.
''Lord Lyonel, you have provided many men to this expedition and have served me well so I say this with the respect you are due….do not deign to tell me what I should do with my Dragon, and never suggest to me again the slaughter of innocents.'' Aegon said sternly, to which the Lord had nodded and fell back in line.
The Riverlords' insistence for revenge was becoming an annoyance for Aegon, and despite their bravery and loyalty, he was beginning to regret his decision of bringing them here to the land of their sworn enemies.At least once a week he had to deal with one RIverlord or another…it had been Lord Lyonel last week, offering their services to become overlord of the Isles, with many proclaiming their plans of how the Ironborn would be kept in line through force, and would be forced to pay reparations for their centuries of plundering.
Aegon knew this would never work, the Ironborn were a proud people and any attempt to put them under a foreign lord would only be met with resistance, blood, and war, and Aegon was determined to find a solution that would both bind the Ironborn to the realm and prevent further bloodshed.
''Your Grace, we are here.'' Triston said, gesturing ahead of them to the fortress of Pyke.
It was an impressive sight, even for Aegon who had seen the city of Oldtown and traveled to two of the Free Cities. Rather than a single fortress it was built upon several massive islands jutting out of the sea. The largest island holding the main keep.
''How do they not fall off the rocks?'' young Theo Tyrell said, pointing at the various keeps.
''Most of the structures were not built by outside material, they were carved out of the rock thousands of years ago….they are the island little lord.'' Triston explained.
The retinue first came to a large curtain wall, a good distance from the cliffs and still built on land, an Iron portcullis, stained green with lichen was raised and Aegon and his retinue made their way in, as men in sealskin armed with spears watched from the ramparts.
''I shall see that the horses are fed and watered your grace, the Great Keep is the first Island past this bridge….I shall be here upon your return.'' Triston said and Aegon nodded his thanks.
They made their way to the cliff's edge, where a large stone bridge stood, connecting the Curtain wall on land to the island.
''Hope you're not afraid of heights lad.'' Corlys chuckled, looking to Theo and making his way across the bridge along with the King, the young squire quickening his pace, still holding the Targaryen banner.
They made their way to the Great Keep, which was made of lichen covered stone, but nonetheless looked formidable.
''I'll go in first.'' Corlys said, stepping ahead and pushing the heavy Iron door open, his other hand upon his sheathed sword.
The hall was dim and smokey, owing to the huge fire pit that ran across the middle of the keep, almost 20 feet long. At the end of the hall was a large throne of black stone carved into the shape of a Kraken, seeming to shimmer in the fire. There were two large tables on each side of the hall, each holding around 50 men, though from what Aegon knew the Great Keep's purpose was for holding court, while the Kitchen Keep, an island down, served as the feast hall.
The hall had around two dozen men in it, constituting most of the notable Ironborn landholders, though the rulers of a few islands were not present due to being children, many a powerful lord had burned alongside Harren and Harrenhall, and there were an unusual amount of young boy rulers in the Iron Isles as a result of these deaths.
The Ironborn Lords were standing in the center of the keep, standing along the firepit talking amongst themselves before turning to face the door when it opened.
''Ah….the Dragon King is here.'' One of the Ironborn, a man with a shock of dark black hair and a tangled beard said, stepping forward.
''He is.'' Aegon said simply.
''Then I welcome ye to Pyke….foremost fortress in the Isles, you were right to hold this moot here.'' The man said before getting closer, causing Corlys to stand in front of him, hand on his sword.
''That's close enough Ironborn.'' Corlys said coolly.
The man laughed ''Easy boy, I mean to shake his hand, not murder him…and if I meant to murder you id be far away from the actual event as to not face the wrath of your Dragon.''
Corlys looked to his cousin, and Aegon nodded, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stepping aside.
The man extended his hand ''Vickon Greyjoyy, owner of this keep and member of one of the oldest clans in the Isles.''
Aegon took it and the two men exchanged a tight handshake.
''The thing I like about handshakes is ye can get a measure of a man from them….i've a strong grip and many a man tries to wriggle free, but you met steel with steel so to speak.'' Vickon said with a chuckle.
''Well go on make yourself comfortable we've got benches over the…'' Vickon began but stopped as Aegon made his way past the Lord of Pyke and seated himself upon the Seastone Chair, leading to an instant outcry among the Ironborn lords.
All eyes turned to Vickon Greyjoy, who was slightly red in the face, his arms crossed.
''I'm a proud man…'' Vickon began slowly ''but no doubt the Dragon King is just borrowin me seat and means to return it when our business is concluded.'' he finished.
Aegon nodded ''The sooner the better.'' He scanned the room ''Shall we begin?''
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''You cannot be serious!.'' shouted the aged Sargon Saltcliffe ''It is our way of life….the old way our fathers and grandfathers have practiced.''
Victarion Botley, lord of Lordsport's keeps another of the elder Ironborn nodded ''Aye….you cannot ask us to give up our way of life…it is our custom….taking a salt wife is how a boy becomes a man, how he proves his devotion to the Drowned God.''
''You misunderstand me my lord…I am not asking you….I am ordering you to cease all raids on my Kingdoms.'' Aegon said.
''Dragons or no dragons you go too far with this.'' Lord Victarion said stubbornly.
''You dare speak to your King that way.'' Lyonel Mallister said heatedly, causing another cacophony of shouts to rise up through the hall.
It had been Rhaenys that insisted on it. On their way to Seaguard they had stopped at a small village that had lost almost all its women to Ironborn raiders over the years. Rhaenys had been so moved by this she promised the village elder she would make sure it never happened again.
Prior to departing Seaguard, she had insisted that Aegon find a way to stop the Ironborn raids on Westeros's western shores and the custom of taking what they called ''Salt Wives'' or non ironborn concubines, to which Aegon had agreed and presented the ultimatum to the lords there.
It was not going well, with the debate having raged on for almost half an hour, mostly spurred on by the two traditional lords of Saltcliffe and Lordsport.
Vickon Greyjoyy raised his hands for quiet and eventually he had it.
''I don't think what you are suggesting will work……at least without some sort of compromise….it's ingrained within our people…the old ways are within our soul…and you can't rip out a man's soul as easy as his fingers.'' Vickon said, earning several nods from the Ironborn lords.
''We can try Ironborn.'' Lyonel Mallister said, venom in his voice.
Aegon put up a hand for silence.
''What do you suggest then?'' Aegon asked.
''We raid away from Westeros, the Summer Islands and the Free Cities…..north to the Shivering Sea even.'' Vickon continued.
''It takes weeks of voyaging to reach those far off lands….it would decrease the plunder brought back threefold with the extra provisions and pay.'' Lord Sargon Saltcliffe scoffed.
''Still it is better than nothing……and the plunder is greater to the east than some riverlander hovel.'' mused Hilmar Drumm, the ruler of old Wyk, the holder of the Valyrian steel sword Red Rain which he had cleverly stolen from the Reynes of Castamere. For this feat he had been known as Hilmar the Cunning and was one of the most powerful Ironborn lords.
Aegon shook his head ''The free cities provide valuable trade to the realm, I wont have you intercepting contracted trade ships and stealing profits from the coastal towns….you can raid the Steppe Stones and Basilisk Isles.
Sigrin Harlaw, a young man with a brown beard stood ''King….I think you know that proposal wont work…frankly it is insulting.''
''Would you prefer Dragonfire?'' Lyonel Mallister said, and Aegon raised his hand once more for silence.
''Aye….looks like were in need of another compromise.'' Vickon Greyjoy said.
Aegon raised his eyebrows ''You're in need of a compromise.'' he corrected him.
''We won't raid ships coming west, only ones going east and to the other free cities…we want want to raid Dorne as well.'' Vickon proposed.
Aegon hesitated a moment before answering, on one hand Ironborn raids could weaken Dorne for his eventual conquest, on the other he would be condemning people, mostly citizens that would one day be his own to death.
''You have leave to raid Dornish patrol boats as well as their trading ships, but only in the narrow sea…no fishing boats or coastal villages.'' Aegon said.
''You drive a hard bargain.'' Vickon said, crossing his arms.
''It is not a bargain.'' Aegon said coolly, making it clear that the negotiation was done.
''Very well….I for one am agreed.'' Vickon said and slowly the other Ironborn lords nodded their assent, though many did not look pleased about it.
The next order of business was to decide on the fate of both Qhorin Volmark and his lands. Qhorin was respected as a warrior and the Ironborn were quite adamant that they wanted him alive, even though he pillaged some of Sigrin Harlaws lands in his pursuit of the Kingship.
''''Black'' Harrens brother, one of our own people leads the night's watch, and he does it well….send Qhorin there….the night's watch could use some real steel among them fancy knights.'' Suggested Vickon, to which Aegon had nodded, he would send a ship with Qhorin to the Shadow Tower after this business was concluded.
Aegon did not take much council in regards to the castle of Volmark and the surrounding lands, deciding himself to give it to Sigrin Harlaw, as it was his demesne and thus his land by right.
The final matter to be settled was the matter of who was to lead the Iron Islands as Lord Paramount. To which Aegon had allowed the Ironborn to vote one of their own to the title. The King knew that if peace was to be kept then whoever led the Isles would need respect to keep his fellow Ironborn in line and could not be seen as a puppet.
In the end it came down to Vickon Greyjoy and Hilmar Drumm, both had been expecting the opportunity and had prepared their speeches well. Hilmar was a few years older and was much respected for his capture of Red Rain, however his gifts to the electors were poor, not for the lord of Old Wyks lack of wealth but the lord was a man that kept his fortune close to him and was loath to part with it.
Vickon Greyjoy on the other hand had the much larger army and fleet, and his ownership of Pyke, the largest fortress in the Iron Islands and the Seastone chair gave him legitimacy, however there were lords present that had seen the act of Aegon sitting on the Sea Stone Chair as tarnishing the Greyjoy Lords honor.
It was dead even as the time for the last vote came, the aged lord Sargon Saltcliffe the only one to not have declared his intention. After a moment's pause, and a look at the pile of treasure Vickon Greyjoy had set out to be distributed among those that had voted for him, the Lord Saltcliffe and declared his support for Vickon, thus giving him victory.
It had been a fast ceremony, as the Ironborn were not ones for drawn out procedures, with Aegon naming Vickon Greyjoy the Lord Paramount of the Islands and taking his oath of fealty from the Seastone chair, to which the other lords had done the same, albeit reluctantly as the knees of the Ironborn did not bend easily.
There was to be a feast immediately afterwards in the Kitchen Keep, which was located on a separate island connected to the Great Keep by a large swaying rope bridge.
As the Lords of the Ironborn made their way out of the keep on their way to the feast, Aegon nodded to Vickon, signaling him to stay behind.
The hall was empty by now, except for Corlys Velaryon who stood at the heavy door, and Theo Tyrell, who waited at attention by the King.
''If your intention was to have a strong and respected ruler for the Islands than you've weakened me by taking me chair King...It will take time to regain my reputation.'' Vickon said.
''You won didn't you?'' Aegon said coolly.
''I did…I was the more deserving candidate after all…but it shouldn't have come down to Sargon Saltcliffes love of silver.''
''I have no doubt you shall regain your reputation…after all they have you to thank for being able to retain their rights to reave.'' Aegon said.
Before Vickon could reply, Aegon continued ''Now enough about your chair….tell me Lord Greyjoy, this agreement as it pertains to reaving…you think it will hold?''
Vickon paused ''It will be difficult…but aye…I can keep them in line…there will be no raids on your Kingdoms.''
''You understand what will happen if one of your lords should break our agreement, I have been lenient with your people, much to my vassals' anger but if there should be one raid on the soil of my Kingdom, the man responsible shall pay in kind.'' Aegon said sternly.
''Pay in Dragonfire you mean?'' Vickon asked.
Aegon nodded ''if necessary.''
''There won't be a need for that, any man breaks their oath i'll kill him myself…take his eyes….I won't have it said that Vickon Greyjoy of the Isles allowed any oath made in Pyke to be broken.'' Vickon said.
''Good.'' Aegon replied, standing up from the Sea Stone Chair.
''I shall return your seat to you Lord Greyjoy…keep the peace and act with wisdom and we shall have no problems.'' Aegon said, making his way to the door.
''You will stay for the feast?'' Vickon asked ''we've prepared you a seat of honor.''
Aegon nodded ''I will but only for a short while, though I fear we will have to do without the company of Lord Mallister, he has made his way back to the ships.''
Vickon chuckled''A shame to be sure.''
Despite Aegon's proclamation that he would only stay for a short time, he stayed for several hours in the feast hall of Pyke, hearing the tales and songs of the Ironborn, and despite himself, found he had gained some amount of admiration for this warlike people.
Upon leaving the feast and making his way back to the ships, Aegon had tasked Aethen Velaryon with sailing the ships back to the Arbor, and entrusted Theo Tyrell to Corlys Velaryon, who would ride alongside Lord Mooton to Maidenpool, and from there the capitol. Aegon would fly on Balerion back to King's Landing and the Aegonfort, he had been away from it for over two years, and it was time to return…it was time to rule.
The Kings visit to Pyke would be remembered, both in song and in curse among the Ironborn, who while impressed with the sight of Balerion in the harbor of Lordsport also saw it as the day the Ironborn bent the knee and agreed to cease raids on Westeros…with the event being known ever since as ''The Dragons Moot.''
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The morning was a hot one, and even the waters of the Blackwater bay were still so there was no reprieve of a breeze. The men in the Kings retinue were obviously feeling its effects, especially the gold cloaks, though Aegon thought nothing of it, he was a Targaryen and had a remarkable threshold for resisting heat.
He had flown from The Iron Islands to the capitol in about three days, taking a leisurely pace through the riverlands, and resting by night on small sandy islands in the rivers. He had arrived late the previous night and his sisters had informed him of some of the events while he had been gone, though he would be filled in more thoroughly later that evening.
It was to be a busy first day back in the capitol, his sister Visenya had chosen 5 more members of the Kingsguard who would swear their loyalty on his return to the Aegonfort, following this would be the first meeting of the small council where he would be filled in on other appointments and decisions made by his sisters who had ruled in his stead during his absence. While Visenya prepared the appointments of the Kingsguard, she had suggested Aegon tour the city which had changed much since he had last seen it at the beginning of his conquest.
''It certainly has grown since last i've seen it.'' Aegon said as he and his retinue rode down the mud streets.
''It has your grace….mostly refugees from the Kingswood.'' replied Ser Brynden Tully, brother to Lord Paramount Edmyn of the Riverlands and the overall commander of the fledgling City Watch, which had come to be known as the gold cloaks due to their woolen cloaks dyed gold, which to no surprise to Aegon had been Rhaenys's idea.
Aegon had been informed as to the structure of the City Watch and he had to admit Visenya's idea was a good one. The gold cloaks would be permanently stationed at 6 ''gates'' throughout the capitol, though in truth in their current state they were simple wooden barracks. These locations were the Dragon's Gate, the Kings Gate, the Lion Gate, and the Gate of the Gods, which were all overseen by Ser Brynden. Ser Rickard Tyrell, similar to Brynden in the sense that he was the younger brother to the Lord Paramount of the Reach, was given command of the Iron Gate and the River Gate barracks. Jacaerys Velaryon, brother of Corlys and Aethen, and cousin to the Targaryens had been given a command as well, since despite being less capable than his brothers was a knight, though he later abdicated the command to Ser Brynden and and instead served under Ser Brynden as one of his lieutenants.
These gates made a rough circle around the edge of the unwalled city, each stationed where roads from differing directions led out of Kings Landing. The responsibility of these barracks would be to search incoming traders and travelers, checking for smuggled goods and collecting tolls, resolving disputes and otherwise keeping the peace. There was one final aspect to the guard however.
These gates were stationed at the outskirts of the city and their garrisons would remain there. The keeping of the peace in the city proper would fall to Ser Jon Darklyn, brother to the Lord of Duskendale, a wealthy coastal port north of Kings Landing. He would take gold cloaks out on patrol through the various districts of the city, proactively searching for crime and responding to incidents.
''The Kingswood?'' Aegon asked, he knew little of that region of the stormlands except it was covered by woodland and home to countless small forest hamlets.
Orys Baratheon, Aegon's rumored half brother, right hand man and most trusted man nodded, he had decided to accompany Aegon on the tour.
''During the conquest Argilac left men there to ambush myself and Rhaenys, we held them off but her Dragon burned down much of the forest, it will grow back in time but many of the inhabitants have migrated here.'' Orys explained.
''How many people live in the city?'' Aegon asked Orys, who many in the capitol had begun to call ''The Kings Hand'' since he had supervised the city since the conquest of the stormlands.
''I've been conducting censuses regularly….at last count it was somewhere around 8-10,000.'' Orys responded.
This was by no means a large city by Westerosi standards but still was a tremendous amount of growth from practically zero inhabitants before the conquest, and this rapid growth had taken its toll on the fledgling city, whos infrastructure was not equipped to handle its growth and most people lived in houses of timber or ramshackle boards, collecting water from the bay and boiling it. The city had a stench to it as well as there was no sewage system.
''There will need to be improvements made…and lots of them.'' Aegon said curtly, a brief thought entering his mind that perhaps he should have taken Oldtown as his seat.
''The citadel sent a Maester some weeks ago, I think you'll like him, he has a mind for city building and rides around the city frequently, he has many ideas.'' Orys nodded.
Aegon scoffed ''A capable maester….I'll believe it when I see it.'' His disdain for most Maesters was well known, an opinion primarily born out of distrust for their self-claimed mastery of the world's many concepts.
The King turned to Ser Brynden Tully, whose face was almost as red as his hair due to wearing the heavy gold cloak, chainmail and a metal helm under the hot sun. ''How many districts do we have left Ser Brynden…we should return to the Aegonfort soon?''
''Just River Row your grace….there should be a good breeze there.'' The commander of the Gold Cloaks responded.
They had toured each of the gates and the other districts over the last few hours. They had started with the Street of Seeds, home to most of the bakeries and granaries in the city, that had been the most pleasant street as the smell of freshly baked bread was almost enough to overcome the stench from the rest of the city.
At the end of the Street of Seeds, they had visited the small wooden sept of the town, though Aegon true to his nature had kept the visit brief. His sisters had invited one of Lord Manfred Hightower's sons, Septon Leyton to oversee both the small septs in the city and the one in the Aegonfort. It was a far cry from assisting in the seven wealthy septs of Oldtown, but the young Septon had stated that the gods looked just as favorably on septs of timber as ones of marble and stated he was happy to do their will in the capitol for his remaining time on earth, which he feared would not be long despite effective treatment from the Maesters.
Following that they toured the street of steel, a district that ran down a large hill from the street of seeds and was home to most of the city's shops. There were many forges in this district, with the ones at the top being home to weapon and armorsmiths though due to the recency of the cities founding they were not overly skilled. Going down were other forges making goods needed in a new city such as nails, horseshoes, and hammers. Despite its name there were other shops here such as tanneries and cloth shops.
They had just got done touring the district of Eel Alley, home to most of the housing in the city as well as taverns and inns, including many serving as brothels. This was the area where most of the trouble occurred, Brynden Tully had explained.
The retinue passed by the River Gate, which was under the command of Rickard Tyrell who nodded at them as they passed. The smell of the harbor hit them immediately, though Aegon was a man who was used to campaigning and it had little effect on him.
True to its word, the district of River Row ran along the bay in a straight line, with some makeshift docks being set up to house several fishing boats. As they rode along the river there were small stalls of fish being sold, increasing in frequency until a large square by the riverside came into sight, with well over two dozen market stalls, with their vendors yelling out the day's catch.
''Fishmongers Square they call it.'' Ser Jon Darklyn said.
Aegon nodded and looked further up the river, where several foreign looking men were constructing a stone structure along the riverside ''Braavosi?'' he guessed by their clothing.
Orys nodded ''One of the families sent a representative when you were away asking permission to set up a trading outpost…the city may not be much now but they recognize it will grow and wanted to get ahead of the other republics….Visenya allowed them to set up here….they have promised good prices on dyes and cloth while they want timber from my lands.''
''It was good of Visenya to arrange this.'' Aegon stated, he had no love of the Braavosi, mostly stemming from the fact his uncle Daemon, father to Aethen, Jacaerys, and Corlys was slain in a naval battle at Gulltown which had included mercenary Braavosi galleys, but he had to admit it would help with the prosperity and trade of Kings Landing.
''Good for trade perhaps'' grumbled Ser Brynden ''Theyve all but taken over one of the harborside taverns, and a fortnight ago some fisherman had the nerve to stumble in there drunk and insult one them….my gold cloaks found the poor man face down in a pool of his own blood.''
''Any more trouble?'' Aegon asked with concern, he was glad to have the prospect of Braavosi trade in the capital, but not at the expense of lawlessness.
Ser Brynden shook his head ''They made their point clear…none bother them now…I would have had the murderer seized but theres at least 50 of them and Ive no way of knowing which one.''
''We should be heading back.'' Aegon said, earning a nod from Orys.
''Aye…Visenya will have your new guard assembled by now….best not to keep her waiting.'' He said.
Ser Brynden Tully dismissed himself to return to his duties, but not before sending a dozen men to escort the King and his Hand back to the Aegonfort.
They made their way through the muddy streets, and up the Street of Steel until the wooden ramparts of the Aegonfort came into view.
It was rather unimpressive as seats went, especially considering it was the spot in which the King of Westeros ruled. The entire hill had been encased by timber palisades, though the gate was at least respectable, being made of heavy iron. The longhall, which held most of the courts lodging accommodations was the largest structure within the fort, while there was also a small kitchen keep and ramshackle sept, even less impressive then the one in the city proper. There was also a small stables as well as a barracks for the castle guard.
Aegon and Orys dismounted, handing their horses over to a groom.
''Water them well.'' Aegon instructed and the boy nodded.
The door to the Longhall came swinging open and little Ryam Redwyne, the King's page, the heir to the Arbor and a boy of 6 ran towards them.
Orys grabbed the boys shoulders and stood him still ''Careful boy, your liable to crack your head open scampering around like that…and more importantly you could break something.''
Aegon gave a smile at that, he had not been in the capitol so his young page was a little behind on learning what was expected of him.
''What is it, Ryam?'' Aegon asked.
''The queen instructed me to tell you that she has gathered her appointments in the longhall for your consideration.'' Ryam said carefully, careful not to make any mistakes in relaying the message.
Aegon nodded ''We shall be there shortly, go over to the stables and help that groom with our horses, he will show you how.''
Little Ryam nodded and ran off.
Orys laughed ''The boy takes after his kinsman….he runs almost as fast as the Reach levies at the field of file from what i've heard.''
Aegon chuckled at that and the two of them headed inside.
The hall was a smoky one, as similar to the Great Hall in Pyke there was a large hearth in the center of the room. At the far side of the hall was the Iron Throne, a huge, ugly and twisted mass of swords burned black from Balerions fire and hammered together by smiths from the Street of Steel. Despite its unattractive appearance, it made for a formidable sight amidst the smoky atmosphere of the longhall.
In the corner of the hall, gathered in the crowd were several formidable looking men, wearing doublets, jerkins, and gambesons, many with their house sigils emblazoned on them. Rhaenys was standing among them, laughing at a joke while Visenya stood near the throne, when all noticed the King's arrival they fell silent, with the Knights gathered bowing their heads in respect.
Aegon made his way towards Visenya.
''Brother…i'm glad your expedition throughout the city is over…I was beginning to think you had fallen in the bay.'' Visenya said curtly.
Aegon nodded ''Tempting…but I am here now.''
He made his way to the Iron Throne and slowly sat upon it, careful to avoid the jagged blades. This would be the first time he officially held court from the throne and he had to admit the smiths had done their job well, perhaps a little too well.
He had commissioned the throne with the tenant that a King should never rest easy in mind and in that regard it was everything he could have hoped for, it would serve as a reminder that a King must never grow lax or complacent, even on his own throne.
He turned to the gathered knights, five in total and gestured them forward.
''My sister tells me that out of the dozens of knights in attendance, you alone remain in consideration for the Kingsguard….for this I congratulate you….I shall now hear your name, house, and your oaths…if you would reject this honor now is the time…..this appointment shall only be ended with your deaths.'' Aegon said, his face scanning the knights, most of them young and fit looking. None made any move to leave.
Aegon nodded ''Let us begin then.''
A young knight with long stringy brown hair and dark eyebrows stepped forward, a proud look upon his face''I am Ser Harold Langward your grace….and it is my honor to represent the Stormlands in your guard…you shall find me worthy of this honor I am sure….and if this duty ends in my death…I hope it shall end with the corpses of your enemies strewn around me.''
''Well said.'' Orys said with a nod of approval.
''I welcome you into the Kingsguard then Ser Harold Langward…..Ser Corlys Velaryon, your Lord Commander shall instruct you on what is expected of you upon his return.'' Aegon said, earning a nod from the young Stormlander.
The next Knight to step forward,a young black haired man with the beginnings of a mustache was a face Aegon recognized as Garmon Hightower, Lord Manfreds youngest son and brother to the newly appointed Septon Leyton.
''I need no introduction from you Ser Garmon….I accept you into my service.'' Aegon said.
''I shall be at your side in battle and in peace your grace.'' He had said with a bow.
''Ser Gawen Corbray your grace…I shall represent the Vale.'' A blonde haired man had said stepping forward, he had a rather ridiculous looking mustache though it was obviously well groomed.
Aegon nodded, and caught a glimpse of the man's sword, which had a heart shaped ruby in the pommel. ''Your sword Ser Gawen.''
The Valeman nodded and in what was clearly a well practiced motion drew it from its scabbard, holding it in front of him with a gloved hand, the blades quality visible even in the smoke of the hall.
''Valyrian Steel….a fine blade.'' Aegon said, impressed, it would be good to have such a weapon amongst his guard.
Ser Gawen nodded ''She is called Lady Forlorn…as many a woman has been brought to such a state due to this blade meeting their husbands….many at my hand.''
The next introduction had been rather uneventful. The knight was of significantly lower stock than the others, coming from a family of unlanded hedge knights, and was not much of a talker, but Visenya had been so impressed by the man, both in his easily apparent strength and his calm temperament she had chosen the knight, who was called Ser Gregor Goode, to represent the riverlands.
The last Knight had been one of Visenyas riskiest appointments. He was older then the others, though still quite young and had short cropped golden hair, green eyes, and a shaggy beard and had a somewhat portly yet stout appearance.
''Ser Stafford Lannister, your grace.'' The man had said, bowing his head.
Aegon shared a look with Visenya, out of all the Kingdoms, with perhaps the exception of the Iron Islands, the Westerlands were the one that harbored the most resentment for their annexation, and taking a Lannister into his service could be risky. Visenya nodded head, confirming her choice.
''A Lannister…surely a Knight of your standing has better prospects at the Rock?'' Aegon asked with curiosity.
Ser Stafford shook his head ''I am a Lannister of Lannisport your grace….a lesser branch than Lord Paramount Lorens….in truth we have little relation.'' The port city of Lannisport outside of Casterly Rock was the second largest city in Westeros only behind Oldtown.
Aegon nodded ''Then I welcome you to the Kingsguard, Stafford of Lannisport.''
There was one final spot on the Kingsguard remaining, though Visenya was still searching for a worthy warrior among the Ironborn, Northerners, and Clawmen.
Following the introductions, all the knights had knelt upton the timber floor and pledged their swords and their lives to the King and his family…pledging to be at his side in peace and in war, and swearing they would father no children for the safety of the Targaryens was now their main priority.
Following this, Rhaenys had organized a feast for the new Kingsguard, where Aegon was better acquainted with the men who would serve him and his family for the rest of their lives, and he had to admit, his sister Visenya had chosen men both strong in sword skill and their loyalty.
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''Rise Lord Brune…..as protector of Crackclaw Point.'' Aegon said from the throne, causing the old Clawman to rise.
''Thank you your grace…House Brune shall keep the peace in the point…both in my lifetime and in my descendents.'' The silver haired Clawman responded.
Aegon was a few hours into consolidating his main powerbase in the Crownlands. He had a great many minor lords sworn directly to him, and it would be much simpler to delegate these minor vassals to one High Lord, who would oversee the region, with only them reporting straight to the King.
Over the past few days he had granted the overlordship of the lands directly south of King's Landing to Maric Gaunt, Lord of Dalston Keep and a lord with an honorable reputation. Similarly, the High Lordship of Blackwater Rush would granted to Lord Gendry Creasy, and yesterday Lord Alyn Chyttering had arrived to give his oath to become protector of the burned Kingswood, though like many of his people he would remain in the capitol to become the first ''master of whisperers.''
Lord Alyn Brune had been the last of these appointments, and had been his sister Visenya's suggestion, with her claiming he was the oldest of the Clawlords and his house was well respected within Cracklaw Point, King Aegon was more than willing to defer to his sisters knowledge of the Clawmen and had agreed to the appointment.
Aegon turned to Theo Tyrell, his squire who had since returned with Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon from the Iron Islands.
''Go and help Lord Brune and his retinue prepare their horses Theo, take Ryam with you, show him how it is done.'' Aegon commanded and his squire nodded and together he and Ryam left the hall.
Lord Brune chuckled ''Normally I see to my own horse, but it is not every day an old clawman is serviced by the heir to the Reach.''
Aegon nodded ''He is a dutiful boy….I wish you a fine journey back to Dyre Den my lord.'' Aegon said, referring to the castle of house Brune.
''Thank you your grace, there is much work to be done.'' Lord Brune said with a bow before leaving the hall.
Aegon did not gain much of a respite from the appointment as immediately after Lord Brune had left the hall, his spymaster and the new Lord of the Kingswood, Lord Alyn Chyttering entered.
''Your grace….pardon the interruption, but a warship has been sighted in the bay….I believe it to be a Manderly ship…the uprising in the Three Sisters must be over if they have returned.'' Lord Chyttering said.
''You are sure of this…you received a raven?'' Aegon asked, leaning forward, if this was true it was good news as the Sisters were the last region of his Kingdoms in open revolt.
''I would be a piss poor spymaster if I was not your grace….though in truth I received no raven…the ship had the merman of House Manderly upon its sails.'' The King's Spymaster responded with a small smile.
Aegon nodded and turned to one of the servants in the hall ''Run a message down to Ser Brynden Tully, tell him to send an escort of gold cloaks to the harbor and escort whoever has commanded the expedition to the keep. ''
The servant nodded and left to relay the message to the Captain of the City Watch.
Less than an hour later, Aegon heard the approach of the escort entering the Aegonfort. Most of his court had gathered in the longhall, both of his sisters, Orys, his Kingsguard, and squires were all in attendance to hear the news from the Sisters.
As the doors of the longhall swang open, the first man that caught Aegons eye was a young man with short blonde hair and the beginnings of a beard. He was dressed in a leather Jerkin, with a layer of chainmail over it, which in turn was covered by a surcoat, with the merman of house Manderly upon it. Behind him were several other Manderly knights, one of whom was holding a rope, which bound the hands of a woman, with short brown hair and the eyes to match it, looking tired and disheveled.
The young man approached the throne and knelt, ''The Sisters are yours your grace.'' He said, still knelt upon the timber floor of the keep..
Aegon gestured the lad up ''I am glad to hear it…though I would prefer to hear the name of the man I have to thank before any further details.''
The Knight nodded ''I am Ser Warrick Manderly..the youngest son of Lord Willem of White Harbor.''
''I thank you for this victory Ser Warrick…..you have brought peace to the realm.'' Aegon said to the young knight.
''I would have hoped to bring peace sooner your grace, I tried to storm Sunderland Hall by force shortly after landing but was repulsed and was forced to settle for a siege which took some weeks….the taking of the village was much quicker if it please your grace…my men overwhelmed the garrison quickly.'' Ser Warrick explained, earning a scowl from the bound woman.
Aegon grimaced slightly at that, he had hoped that the pacification in the Sisters would be bloodless, though he reluctantly admitted to himself that he had only himself to blame for the failed assault on the castle and the eventual melee in the village as he did not explicitly state that his wishes when he ordered Torrhen Stark, his Warden of the North to deal with the uprising.
''Well it is over now, that is what matters.'' Aegon said.
Visenya stepped forward suddenly ''Ser Warrick, forgive the question if you will but are you married?''
Ser Warrick with a slight look of confusion, shook his head ''No my queen.''
Visenya gave a small smile at that and gave a knowing look to Aegon who nodded.
''Ser Warrick….what my sister means is there is a vacancy among my Kingsguard….these men in white armor that stand beside me each represent a region of the 7 Kingdoms….the vacancy in question could be filled by a man of the north.'' Aegon explained.
The young knight ran a hand through his beard ''I see.''
''If you were to fill this vacancy…of which you are well deserving after your bravery in the Sisters…you would give up the opportunity of taking a wife….your life would be spent in the service of the King.'' Visenya said.
Ser Warrick was silent for a moment before at last answering ''I shall take my sword as a wife then my queen, I am a warrior before all else and there is no greater honor than to serve the King in battle.''
''Excellent, I am glad to have you, Ser Corlys Velayron shall explain what is expected of you and then I shall take your oath should you still wish to give it..'' Aegon said, he was pleased at this appointment, the final spot on his Kingsguard had been proving difficult to fill, and Ser Warrick was seemingly the perfect candidate, brave and battle tested despite his young age.
''A final thing your grace…we have their ruler….Queen Marla Sunderland she has styled herself, she wounded one of my men after her garrison surrendered and bit another…I lost many good men due to her uprising.'' Ser Warrick explained.
Aegon nodded ''I shall deal with her.''
He turned to the rest of the court ''All of you leave us if you will….I will speak with the Lady Sunderland.''
The court gradually left the longhall, except for Ser Garmon Hightower of the Kingsguard, who was the Kings assigned guard for the hour.
When the hall was empty he turned to Ser Garmon ''Cut her loose.'' Aegon commanded.
''Are you sure your grace?'' Ser Garmon asked, he was a brave man but took his duty to protect the King the most seriously of all the Kingsguard, sometimes to the point of paranoia.
Aegon nodded ''If she means to bite me than I take solace in the fact you are here.''
Ser Garmon nodded and cut her loose, but not before doing a respectful patdown for any hidden weapons to which Aegon couldn't help but roll his eyes at.
''Well if you mean to kill me, best get it done with.'' Marla Sunderland said, her voice powerful and proud, and utterly without fear.
Aegon nodded ''Would you prefer the blade or dragonfire.'' Earning a rather shocked look from Ser Garmon.
Aegon then leaned back a bit, gauging the Lady of the Sisters for a reaction.
Even with the mention of Dragonfire, Marla Sunderland did not seem perturbed, merely shrugging her shoulders ''I dont suppose it makes much difference in the end.'' She said,
Aegon was silent for a moment before nodding ''It doesnt does it?.''
A silence fell over the hall before Aegon sighed, and came to his feet.
''I dont mean to kill you Marla Sunderland…at least not today…and I certainly do not intend to feed you to my Dragon….as a general rule I dont feed those I respect to Balerion.'' Aegon said.
''Your Grace?'' Marla Sunderland said with confusion.
''Aye….I respect you…I see why your people named you their Queen…and I understand why you rebelled.'' Aegon said, to the rather shocked ruler of the Three Sisters.
''And why is that?'' Marla asked.
''Because for centuries you and your lands have been pulled between the North and the Vale like a piece of meat between two hounds, each year being shredded closer to the bone….your lands burning…your women raped…aye I understand'' Aegon said cooly.
''I am glad to hear it.'' The former Queen of the Sisters responded.
''I also understand you did not rebel against me…you used the distraction of my invasion to break away from the Vale, a smart move….and it is that fact that lends itself to my decision not to execute you for treason.'' Aegon said.
Marlas face furrowed ''You mean to give us to the Vale then…make them our overlords?''
Aegon was silent.
''A choice then…is that it…my life for my word that I will serve either the Vale or the North'' Marla said, her voice rising in intensity.
Aegon raised his hand ''No Lady Sunderland….''it'' is a promise….a promise that your people and your islands will not be the battleground for two great powers ever again….no..you will not serve the lords of the North or the lords of the Vale….you shall swear directly to the Iron Throne…I will not give you independence, but this is as close as you will get.'' Aegon explained.
Marla Sunderland was speechless before quickly regaining her composure ''I accept your Grace.''
Aegon nodded ''One last thing…..Ser Warrick Manderly spoke true, he did lose many men upon the walls of Sunderland Hall, and the Manderlys will be expecting some sort of punishment.''
Marla scoffed ''Men lost due to his decision to storm the walls, he didn't have a chance with the amount of men he had…those deaths were on him. And I would take the opportunity to tell you they more than avenged themselves upon the garrison of Crably, the neighboring village…they would have surrendered in time, but your Merman Knight was determined to win glory and ordered it stormed without even negotiating….many good men died defending their homes that day.''
''It is true Ser Warrick was hotheaded in his pursuit of glory…but he acted upon my orders…and there must be some sort of punishment my lady.'' Aegon said slowly but with understanding.
Marla Sunderland was silent at that.
''I hear you have a younger brother.'' The King said.
Marla nodded cautiously ''I do your Grace.''
''Have him come to King Landing…the sept could use a man of noble birth and an anointed knight to defend the priests as they do their charity.'' Aegon said.
''You would find him of little use, I'm afraid.'' Marla said dismissively, though it was clear she knew the purpose of the ''invitation.''
''Have him sent all the same.'' Aegon responded.
''You would have him be a hostage!'' Marla said, her voice rising slightly.
''An honored guest.'' Aegon replied coolly.
Marla Sunderland was quiet for a moment before she nodded silently.
''Then you are free to leave in peace my lady…I shall have a ship arranged to take you back to the Sisters.'' Aegon said.
''I thank you for it your grace.'' Marla replied, though somewhat tersely.
With Marla Sunderlands capitulation, all the rebellions in the realm had been put down, and for the first time in its history…Westeros was at peace, albeit an uneasy one.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
Chapter 4: The Mermans Flight (Aegon/Ser Warrick Manderly) (Part 1)
It was a hot day though there was a cool breeze in the air, and the courtyard of the Aegonfort was ringing with the sounds of steel on steel. The knights of the Kingsguard were training with Corlys Velaryon, observing, despite his young age he was the best swordsman of Aegons guard and more than qualified to observe such a task, though Ser Gawen Corbray had the ability to match him on his better days.
The children of the Aegonfort were also working on their swordcraft, under the watchful eye of Lord Jon Rosby, whom Aegon had made his Master-at-Arms, though more for his competency in leading men than his sword-skill, of which he was only average.
''Advance Theo, shield up, sword at the ready!.'' Lord Rosby commanded, and Theo Tyrell, Aegon's squire nodded, holding up his light wooden shield and advancing on his opponent. Ormond Bowling, who was Orys Baratheons squire, and while a year younger than Theo was big for his age.
''Shield up Ormund.'' Orys called with encouragement as the two boys came together in a clash of shield on shield. Ormunds superior strength won out in the pushing of shields, forcing Theo to go on the retreat and attempt to block Ormunds powerful blows with his sword. To his credit, the heir to Highgarden managed to block a few of the large boys downward strikes but eventually his grip weakened and the practice sword clattered to the ground out of his hand. Ormund had the chance to deliver a nasty blow with the practice sword, but held back to which Lord Rosby nodded his approval.
''Good Ormund….a true knight does not continue the fight after his opponent has been disarmed.'' Lord Rosby said before granting the two a quick break, going to check on Ryam Redwyne, Aegon's page who was still learning the basics of how to wield a blade, using a wooden blade and running through various solo drills focused on footwork and hand placement, he would not train against other boys until he was officially made a squire which would not be for at least another year.
Aegon, who had been observing the melee off to the side, gestured his squire over.
''I should have beat him.'' Theo said dejectedly, the lad was a proud one and did not like to lose, especially in front of the King to a younger boy.
Aegon shook his head slightly ''But you didn't….because you insist on fighting him as if you are of the same size and strength…in order to beat your opponent you have to know him first…and acknowledge the facts…which are he is bigger and stronger than you.''
Theo grew somewhat red faced at that.
''But he is not better than you….you are both of the same speed and have similar reflexes, you lost because you attempted to block his strikes head on, steel on steel, he hits hard and you won't be able to sustain it for long.'' The King continued
''But how else will I block them? My shield arm is tired at that point and he never gets tired.'' Theo protested.
Aegon nodded to the other side of the courtyard, where the Kingsguard were sparring.
''You see my cousin, the Lord commander?'' Aegon said, pointing to Corlys who was fighting both Stafford Lannister and Warrick Manderly at the same time, and quite successfully.
Theo nodded.
''Watch what he does…when he blocks a strike he doesn't put his sword out in front of the other with the simple goal of stopping it with brute strength…he guides it away from him….he uses his feet well to leverage his balance, if you block like that you won't feel that ringing down your arm each time you stop a strike.'' Aegon explained.
Theo watched, clearly impressed.
''Your sword is an extension of your arm Theo, it's not a tool to hold between you and another sword…think of it as an arm….pushing and guiding away your opponent's blade.'' Aegon said.
''I think I understand.'' Theo said slowly, still watching Corlys.
''Show me.'' Aegon said with a nod back to Lord Rosby, who was calling the squires back.
True to his word, Theo Tyrell did understand the lesson, he was much more efficient in his blocks, guiding away Ormunds strikes until eventually he had the chance to launch an attack of his own, which caught the bigger boy by surprise and eventually forced him to yield, blade at his throat.
Theo returned, a grin on his face ''The warrior was with me…every time he launched an attack I remembered what you said and he gave me strength.''
Aegon shook his head ''It was your arm that gave you the victory Theo…not any gods….never rely on any outside intervention in the heat of battle….the outcome rests entirely on you and your actions.''
Before Theo could respond, Rhaenys came out to greet them.
''I saw your victory Theo…it was well fought.'' Rhaenys said with a smile, causing the boy to blush.
''Fought well enough for today, tomorrow he must do it again.'' Aegon said with a small smile.
Rhaenys nodded ''Visenya has assembled the Small Council brother….she was beginning to think you had forgotten.''
Aegon cleared his throat, in truth he had lost track of time but he was not going to admit that.
He turned to Theo ''See to your arms and armor, and then come to the meeting with Ryam, it's a hot day we could use some wine.''
Theo nodded and immediately set to his task.
Rhaenys smiled as they walked to the keep ''You work the poor boy too much.''
Aegon shook his head ''That ''boy'' will one day inherit the most powerful region in Westeros, if he is to lead he must learn to follow.''
''And when did you learn to follow?'' Rhaenys asked with a laugh.
Aegon was silent, he had to admit she had him there he was a man that had always been at the forefront.
The two made their way into the Longhall, turning from the throne room into a separate large chamber where the rest of the small council was seated.
The small council's attendance was ever changing, with some members occasionally being absent due to their work, though today the council was in full attendance. Orys served as Hand of the King, which had become the official term for the position due to its popularity, with Aegon giving him a silver and ruby pin in the shape of a hand that signified his position. Edmyn Tully was present as well as the Master-of-Laws, a rarity since his current assignment saw him traveling frequently to meet with lords on the King's behalf. Jon Rosby was the master-at-arms and responsible for drilling both the garrisons of the Aegonfort and occasionally Dragonstone.
Harlan Tyrell, Lord Paramount of the Reach and Theo Tyrells father was the Master of Coin, and was very competent due to his experience of being the steward of Highgarden for well over a decade prior to his appointment.
Lord Alyn of the Kingswood was Aegon's spymaster, and though Aegon was not a man of intrigue, he respected the man due to his hard work, in less than a year successfully setting up networks in most of the major regions of Aegon's Kingdom, as well as in several of the free cities.
Corlys Velaryon, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard also had a seat though not a literal one as he beside his cousin's chair as a guard, as did his older brother Aethen, who was Master of Ships. Ser Brynden Tully ,Edmyns brother and Commander of the Gold cloaks was present as well, while not an official member of the council, he often attended to give reports of events in the city. Visenya and Rhaenys also had seats.
The final member of the small council was the Valeman, Grandmaester Arlan, the first to hold his position. When the citadel had declared their intention to send him a Maester to advise him, Aegon had been expecting some prattling old fool, but Arlan had proven himself to be neither old nor foolish, being quite competent. The man spoke several languages and had a mind for architecture, often touring the city and looking for suggestions to give Harlan Tyrell on how best to improve the city.
This council of 12 individuals all shared in the rule of Aegon's Kingdoms, and the King had been pleased with their effectiveness through the first eight months of his rule.
As usual, Alyn started off the meeting by giving information he had received about the affairs of the wider world, particularly the free cities and Dorne.
''Braavos has declared war on Pentos to free the slaves there, and Lorath has declared its intention to join in the war, though they have not been present in the early fighting.'' Alyn started.
Harlan Tyrell nodded ''Braavos will prevail…they have the Iron Bank…I wouldnt anticipate any loss of trade from Braavos your grace….this war will no doubt be fought on Pentoshi soil….if anything it will increase…they will want timber to build new warships.''
''The Braavosi fight for a noble cause….the gods abhorr slavery.'' Grandmaster Arlan mused.
''Im sure they wont complain about the tribute of gold and silver they will be given at war's end either.'' Aegon said dryly.
''In slightly less noble wars…the Lysene have just finished a slave raid on Last Lament in the Summer Islands…and they have now turned their sights to Volantis for another raid, which has just overthrown their first female Triarch….a tough first test for their new Triarch.'' Alyn continued.
Aegon shook his head ''The Free Cities never cease to devour one another….let us hear news closer to home.''
Alyn nodded ''Meria Martell of Dornes only child and heir Nymor was slain in a court duel….her new heir is her granddaughter Deria, a girl of 18.''
''Your Grace…if I may, with the turmoil of her heirs death perhaps Meria Martell might be persuaded to surrender her independence without bloodshed…as to not leave her granddaughter alone to face our armies.'' Lord Jon Rosby stated. Aegon's current plan for the annexation of Dorne was to wait for the 80 year old queen of Dorne to pass, and strike during the succession, Nymors death was significant as he was a competent man that had experience with leadership, but young Deria was less so.
Rhaeneys shook her head ''That old bat will never surrender.''
Aegon nodded ''We stick to the current plan, we consolidate our strength until Merias death…then we invade.''
''Your grace knows best.'' Lord Rosby said, bowing his head.
''Another matter…one in the Kingdoms…Lord Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell has wed Sharra Arryn, the young Ronnels mother, should the marriage bear children the child shall have claims to both the North and the Vale…making them one of the strongest claimants in the damn Kingdoms….too powerful if you ask me.''Lord Alyn said.
''It is likely any potential child would inherit Winterfell in time but Lady Arryn has two sons in line for the Vale, I think it unlikely that we would have to worry about such a powerful vassal holding two of the Kingdoms….Lady Arryn is not exactly young and if a child were to be born, any problems would not present themselves for decades…It is a problem for another time Lord Alyn.'' Aegon said he was not concerned.
The Spymaster nodded.
''One final matter…Vickon Greyjoy has taken many ships to raid and reave in the shivering sea, near Lorath and Ibben.'' Alyn said.
''Keep me apprised….If you have word that any ship traveling to my Kingdom is attacked then I shall be forced to deal with it.'' Aegon said.
The King then turned to Harlan Tyrell ''How are preparations for the expansion of the keep coming?'' Aegon had plans to vastly improve the Aegonfort into a true keep worthy of a King, though this would be expensive and perhaps take decades.
''It shall take time to gather sufficient coin your grace….I feel that within 3 years we can begin construction.'' The Master of Coin responded.
The meeting went on for another hour, with Brynden Tully explaining the current affairs in the city, while Grandmaester Arlan detailed his latest tour of King's Landing and suggestions on how to improve the city's infrastructure. Ryam and Theo made rounds of the table, refilling cups.
After the meeting, the Small Council began to leave the chamber to return to their duties, Aegon was about to leave as well when Visenya stopped him, a gentle hand on his shoulder.
''Brother…I would speak with you.'' She said, waiting for all to leave, with the exception of Corlys Velaryon.
Aegon raised his eyebrows.
''I shall be leaving the capitol for some time.'' Visenya said nonchalantly.
''Leaving…but we've only just gained peace…and where.'' Aegon said with surprise.
''To Essos….I wish to tour the Free cities…or at least some of them...you and I toured some cities in Westeros as children…and we spoke of visiting the Free cities together later….though we never did.'' Visenya replied.
''I have only just consolidated my rule, and you would leave….no Visenya, this tour can wait, there are those that still defy my rule behind closed doors, the absence of one of our Dragons would only embolden them.'' Aegon said firmly.
''Brother….you misunderstand me, I am not requesting this, this journey is one I will undertake.'' Visenya said sternly.
''I am your King…and I say the tour can wait for Visenya.'' Aegon said, he could not understand why his sister was so adamant about this.
''Aegon….it cannot wait…future commitments make it certain that I shall not have the chance to leave the capitol for any length of time for the foreseeable future, perhaps never.'' Visenya said curtly.
''Commitments?'' Aegon said with bewilderment.
Visenya gave a small nod, and suddenly took the King's hand, placing it upon her belly.
''You..You are with child?'' Aegon asked with shock.
Visenya could no longer keep up her stern front and a smile came onto her face.
''Yes Aegon…Grandmaester Arlan has confirmed it…..a little dragon grows within my belly….our little dragon.'' Visenya said, the King's hand in hers.
The King had good reason to be surprised, though he loved his sister, it was well known that he frequented Rhaenys chambers much more often, with it being said for every one night with Visenya he spent 10 with Rhaenys.
''Visenya…..if you go….our child will be born in Essos, away from me….away from their birthright.'' Aegon said, his tone gentler.
Visenya shook her head ''The Free Cities are the children of Old Valyria, as will our little prince or princess, they will have their whole lives to live in Westeros, but they are of Essos as well…they are Targaryen.'' Visenya said.
''And if something were to happen while on this journey…I know you can take care of yourself but it is not just you you are responsible for.'' Aegon said.
''I will have Vhagar, and Dark Sister.'' Visenya said dismissively.
''Vhagar cannot protect you inside buildings….as I remember you telling me in the Hightower when you spoke of Balerion…if you go you will take Kingsguard with you and a retinue.'' Aegon replied.
''It's not necessary.'' Visenya said.
''It is….Ser Gregor Goode and Ser Harold Langward will accompany you, as well as 100 men at arms and knights from Dragonstone.'' Aegon said firmly.
''Brother…'' Visenya started but the King shook his head.
''That is my condition.'' Aegon said, and Visenya nodded curtly, seeing the futility of argument.
''I shall make preparations then…and I suppose I should inform Rhaenys she is to be an aunt.'' Visenya said, kissing the King's cheek before leaving the room.
''Congratulations cousin.'' Corlys Velaryon, who had been standing at guard near the door said.
Aegon nodded, as Corlys bowed and left the room as it was Ser Warrick Manderlys shift to guard the King.
Aegon sat at the table and nodded for Ryam Redwyne to pour him some wine. It had been a long day and he had just learned he was to be a father…he deserved some reprieve, though unfortunately his relaxation would not last long.
There was a knock at the door, to which Ser Warrick had opened it, revealing Lord Alyn Chyttering, his spymaster.
''The hour is late, Lord Alyn.'' Aegon said tiredly.
The man had nodded ''Aye it is your grace, and forgive the interruption but I received a raven…and as the saying goes….dark damn wings mean dark damned words.'' He had said in his usual coarse way of speaking.
''Go on then.'' Aegon said.
Alyn hesitated ''Perhaps it is best said in private your grace.'' With the spymaster giving a not so subtle look to Ser Warrick Manderly.
Ser Warrick had bristled at that and Aegon shook his head ''Whatever can be said in my presence can be said in that of my Kingsguard…I have put trust in them.''
Alyn had nodded ''Very well….I received a raven from my network in the North…there's trouble…in White Harbor.''
Alyn gave another look to Ser Warrick Manderly, whos house was the ruling power in White Harbor.''
''Go on.'' Aegon said, though understanding of his spymaster's hesitation.
''Lord Willem Manderly….father of your kingsguard here… plots to murder Brandon Stark…heir to Winterfell and the North…newly married to Sharra Arryn.''
''You lie spymaster…'' Ser Warrick suddenly said, his voice with obvious signs of anger at the accusation against his father.
''That is enough Ser Warrick…continue Lord Alyn'' Aegon said, raising his hand to silence his Kingguard.
''My best guess as to his reasons are he wishes for his house and descendents to become the New Wardens of the North in time, and he understands that if Brandon Stark and Sharra Arryn should sire a wolf pup, the child would put those plans in danger as both the Vale and North would be joined…to powerful to depose.'' Alyn explained.
''Send a raven demanding he end this plot…I will give him one chance, for his house's contribution in ending the Sisterman rebellion.'' Aegon commanded and Lord Alyn nodded and set to making preparations.
Two weeks would pass with no response from the Lord of White Harbor, despite multiple ravens being sent so finally Aegon was forced to take action. He tasked Ser Warrick Manderly, his Kingsguard, to sail to White Harbor under the King's own banner with a force of men to take his Lord Father into custody.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
Ser Warrick Manderly stood at the prow of the ship, light snow falling around him, making his white Kingsguard armor slick with frost.
The small galley through the choppy gray waters of the bite, too fast for Warrick's liking, he had almost hoped they would run aground on the voyage to his childhood home, or face some other obstacle that would force them to return back to the capitol, anything was preferable to the unenviable task that lay before him, and one he would have to undertake soon based on the ships rapid approach into the harbor.
They passed the small towerforts built on large rocks jutting out of the bay that led the harbor, normally each tower would be garrisoned by crossbowmen, but today they were empty, which Warrick supposed he should be grateful for, King Aegon had not expected any resistance from Warrick's father Willem, especially since his own son would lead the expedition, but the fact the fact the towers were unmanned boded well for a peaceful imprisonment of his father.
As the ship got closer to the harbor, the familiar sight of the city came into view., the whitestone walls and towers seemingly rising up from the cold gray of the Bite.
Home Ser Warrick thought sadly, as they passed by the jutting crag called Seal Rock, which true to its name had several seals resting at its base. He remembered as a child he would occasionally brave the frigid waters of the bite to swim out to Seal Rock on warmer days…His father had scolded him harshly when he had been caught once, but he remembered seeing a hint of pride on his fathers face.
''Damn you for making me do this…Damn you old fool.'' Ser Warrick thought, his hands gripped his sword, squeezing it hard.
He had often thought about his eventual return home, perhaps on a visit with the King. He had not seen his father since he had left to quell the Sisterman rebellion, much had changed since then, he had been blooded in battle upon the walls of Sunderland Hall and in the muddy streets of Crabbly, and had been given a white cloak and appointed to the Kingsguard as representative of the North…his father would surely be proud.
But now all of that was hollow, his father would not receive tales of his accomplishments, or bestow his youngest son any praise…Warrick would instead give his father chains and knowing his Lord Father, Warrick would receive naught but curses. The knot in Warrick's stomach tightened as they got closer, and it was not due to the conditions of the sea.
''The Gate is closed to us Ser.'' Said Captain Cayle, a stern man with a shock of brown hair and a well trimmed beard, he was in command of the 50 men at arms King Aegon had given Warrick to transport his lord father back to the capitol to stand trial for attempting to murder the heir to Winterfell.
Warrick had hoped the Targaryen banner would be enough to dissuade any sort of defiance, but the fact the gate was closed despite their ship being visible was ill news.
''Sail in…if they meant to oppose us the harbor towers would have been manned….and we would be greeted by my fathers warships not a closed gate.'' Warrick commanded and Captain Cayle nodded.
As they sailed closer Ser Warrick saw the white stone walls were manned by spearmen and crossbowmen. At the forefront of the Seal Gate was a Knight with long orange hair and a mustache, a man Ser Warrick had known since childhood.
''Open the Gate Ser Harlon.'' Warrick commanded, he had little patience for negotiation, if he was forced to do this task he would see it done as fast as possible.
''You are in luck Ser Warrick….your father instructed me to open the gate if it was you leading the ship.'' Ser Harlon said, nodding for the gate to be opened.
Once it was up, the galley sailed through into the inner harbor, where it would be sheltered from the harsh winds of the bite.
Ser Warrick and his men disembarked onto the cobbled and paved streets of white harbor, its large walls shielding them from the winds, though they could do little to stop the light snow from falling.
Ser Harlon had made his way down from the walls to greet them.
''Your father awaits you in the Wolf's Den.'' Ser Harlon said, referring to the old castle that served as the prison of white harbor, being built alongside the harbor walls.'' The Knight said.
''Why does he not await me in the Mermans hall.'' Ser Warrick said he had been expecting to find his Lord father upon his throne in the Manderlys keep, negotiating from a position of strength.
''He does not wish to sully your family hall with this event…with his surrender.'' Ser Harlon said.
Warrick nodded to Captain Cayle to follow him with their retinue, he would not need an escort…he knew the harbor streets like the back of his hand.
As they made their way through the wide streets of White Harbor, Cayle stepped up to join him.
''I know it's no easy thing…what you are tasked with doing.'' The captain said.
''How could you possibly understand.'' Ser Warrick said, his words coming out harsher than he intended too.
''Aye…you're right…maybe I don't….but ive had to choose between those close to me and duty….during the war I fought for King Aegon, while passing through a village in the Riverlands one of my men got so drunk he mistook a villager for an ironborn…killed him where he stood….he was a good man who drank to forget what he had seen…I'd known him for years…but in the end his crimes outweighed my relation to him, duty outweighed friendship…so I sent him to his death…had him hung.'' Captain Cayle said sadly.
Ser Warrick was silent the rest of the way to the Wolfs Den, an ancient castle with crumbling black walls situated along the sea.
As they opened the door, the smell of salt and shit hit them. The entrance was dark with only a few torches to light their way down the steps. Leaks in the foundation meant seawater was present on the steps, with the holes being so large in some places one could see the water below, dark and cold.
''Watch your step.'' Warrick commanded the men behind him, who were marching single file down the narrow stairs. As they got closer to the end of the stairs, the wind grew until at last they reached the bottom of the Wolfs Den which housed a few dank cells. It was here the walls ended and the castle opened up to the sea, a fierce wind blowing in. It would be easy to escape the cells in this bottom level, but ahead was nothing but gray sea and many a man had drowned trying to escape the freezing cold of these cells and the starving rats.
His father was there, at the ledge where the crumbling floors stood above the sea below. He was armed, and dressed for battle in chainmail and a cloak with the colors of house Manderly, fastened by a silver brooch in the shape of a trident, his gray hair waving in the wind. He had a few retainers behind him but not many.
''Father….'' Ser Warrick began, he had agonized over what to say but faced with the prospect of actually doing it he found himself at a loss for words.
''White looks good on you….I see the Dragon King has bedecked you like a maid on her wedding day.'' Willem Manderly said, spitting on the ground.
Warrick had long since become immune to his fathers insults, he looked around the chamber.
''Where is Damon?'' Warrick said, speaking of his older brother, the heir to White Harbor.
''I didn't want him to be here for this…i've said my farewells, to him and my grandson'' Lord Willem said solemnly.
''This is all of your doing…..what madness possessed you to your treason.'' Warrick said, no longer able to contain his anger.
''Concern for our family is madness is it…..Brandon Stark would have seen the end of us…the man is ambitious….and zealous….the Starks have tolerated us, allowed us to keep our faith, but I heard it told he had designs to take our land and give it to one of the tree worshipers…a ''true northman…and i'll be damned if I leave my line to deal with it'' Willem said.
''Your reasons….your reasons do not excuse your treason…I have been ordered to take you into custody my lord.'' Ser Warrick said, quickly composing himself, he did not wish for this to become a back and forth.
''Very well.'' Lord Willem said.
There was a pause…a long silence…and then the first crossbow bolt came, striking one of Ser Warricks retinue in the throat.
Two rowboats appeared at the opening of the prison, having been lying in wait on the sides, several crossbowmen stayed on the boats, loosing bolts into the unsuspecting retinue while others jumped off and attacked.
Behind them from the stairs men began to pour out one at a time, with much of the back row of the retinue being set upon and quickly slaughtered.
''Dont resist Warrick!.'' WIllem Manderly shouted throughout the chaos, the melee beginning in earnest.
Ser Warrick was no coward and ignored the advice, drawing his sword and entering the fray. A fat Manderly man at arms with an ax swung at him and Ser Warrick blocked it with his sword and quickly pulled it back, burying it in the man's gut before kicking him to the ground, a spearman tried his luck but Ser Warrick turned quickly and slashed the man's throat open, crimson blood staining the Kingsguards snow white cloak.
As Ser Warrick looked for his next opponent he saw the fight was lost, his fathers men had the element of surprise and were slaughtering his retinue. He saw one of his men in the corner begging for mercy get a spear through his eye.
By the time he turned around it was fully over, with most of his men dead or dying. He saw Captain Cayle on the ground, wounded and crawling. Willem Manderly nodded at one of his men, who walked over and put a spear in his back, kicking the captain over the ledge into the cold water of the bite.
''Son….yield…its over.'' His father said.
''YOU BASTARD.'' Ser Warrick screamed.
''Its over Warrick….its done….just drop the sword.'' Willem continued, walking closer to him.
''I should kill you…'' Ser Warrick panted.
''Then do it.'' his father said raising his arms, Ser Warrick raised his blade for a moment and then lowered it…defeated.''
''Why……what have you done'' The young Kingsguard asked, the fight having left him.
''You think i'd let myself be taken prisoner, be taken to stand trial, thrown in a cell.'' Willem said.
''You could have just left….left before we arrived, fled to the free cities….all these men didn't need to die….this could have been avoided'' Ser Warrick said, seething.
Lord Willem nodded ''Perhaps….but I wasn't going to leave without you son…your my blood….you think i'd leave you in that Dragon King's service….you'd be blamed for my flight….I knew the arrogant bastard couldn't resist sending a man's own son to arrest him…I knew he'd send you. You and I shall leave. ''
''And now you've doomed our whole family….when the King hears of this Damon will be punished…killed…you say you won't leave me but what about him, what about his son.'' Warrick replied.
The Lord of White Harbor shook his head ''I sent him away on business before this…in truth none but the men here knew of my plans….not even Ser Harlon….your brother will be punished aye but he didn't know….they won't kill him.''
Warrick sensed his father was telling the truth, though loyal he knew Ser Harlan would have never obeyed orders to begin a massacre.''
''I'll go back…tell him the truth…anything than go with you…anything but to run.'' Warrick said defiantly.
''You think I want to run boy…this is our home…my home…but you know as well as I if you ever set foot in the capitol again that bastard will kill you….we have to go.'' Willem said, spitting to the floor.
''Where.'' Ser Warrick asked.
''We go to Essos, join a company of Freeriders….they always welcome Westerosi Knights…especially you…you will make a name for yourself.'' Lord Willem said.
Warrick had lost all energy for the fight, he knew that he could never return to the capitol, not after this…his time as a Kingsguard was over.
Warrick nodded slowly.
''We must go now son….news travels fast.'' Lord Willem said.
That night Willem Manderly and his son Warrick Manderly left White Harbor on an unassuming ship, bound for Volantis. Traveling with them were the men that had taken part in the massacre as well as Lord Willems' heavily pregnant young wife.
Ser Warrick sat at the back of the boat, the stars lighting the dark sea, he watched as White Harbor, his home faded into the distance, eventually its white walls seeming to become a star itself.
Warrick Manderly unbuckled his heavy white cloak and after a moment's hesitation threw it into the dark waters of the bite before it too was lost to the waves.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
The halls of the Aegonfort were alive with music and laughter, though not all were enjoying the festivities, King Aegon among them. His mind was far away from the present feast, dwelling instead on the multiple problems the realms faced.
It had been nearly three months since he received word from White Harbor of the flight of Lord Willem and his Kingsguard son Ser Warrick Manderly's desertion, along with the massacre of the 50 men he sent to take Willem into custody.
Aegon had been resolved to ride on Balerion to White Harbor and bring those involved to justice, but Rhaenys had warned him a gentle touch was needed, and any punishment to be placed upon the Manderlys should come from his Warden of the North, Torrhen Stark.
Torhren Starks punishment had been delivered swiftly. Damon Manderly and his teenage son Garth had been away on Lord Willem Manderlys orders, so once Lord Stark heard of the news, it was a simple enough matter to have Damon seized away from his court. Damon was then brought to Winterfell to stand trial where it quickly became clear he was not aware of his fathers plan, though his family would still be punished.
Damon Manderly was stripped of the title of Protector of White Harbors surrounding lands, and while still retaining the influence of a High Lord and the City of White Harbor itself, he lost the vassalship of Houses Wells, Slate and Holt, with Lord Warrick Wells gaining the title. This was an expensive punishment for House Manderly as they would lose overlordship of over 3000 fighting men, the castles of Fordswatch, White Creek Castle and Fordswatch, as well as the villages of Chalkchilds Seat, Whitford Town, and Coldhouse.
In addition to these significant losses, Lord Damon Manderly would send his son Garth to Winterfell, to be fostered by Torrhen Stark, though all involved knew he would serve as a hostage to ensure the Manderlys good behavior.
With the matters settled in White Harbor itself, it would fall to the King to decide how to proceed with Willem and Warrick Manderly.
Rhaenys had suggested appointing another Kingsguard, but Aegon had refused stating ''A Kingsguard serves for life and only death may free them of their vow.'' Ser Warricks place in the Kingsguard would remain vacant until he met his end.
In that regard, Aegon ordered Lord Alyn Chyttering to make preparations to have Ser Warrick Manderly killed in Volantis, where the most recent reports placed him and his father. Aegon was not a man that would normally resort to murder, but he felt it was justified to hold the rogue Kingsguard accountable for his broken oath. One he was dealt with, Aegon would make plans for his father.
Aegon had not had long to dwell on this issue as other matters plagued the Kingdoms. A pox, originating in Dorne had quickly spread through the Reach and Stormlands and had been spread by ship to the port city of Duskendale, thus far Kings Landing had been spared of the disease but there had been an influx of refugees straining the cities already inadequate infrastructure as well as the Gold Cloaks, who struggled to make sure they were not letting those with the pox inside the city.
A final matter which threatened the stability of the Kingdoms was the outbreak of violence in the Iron Islands. Sigrin Harlaw, a young powerful lord who had been present at the Dragons Moot the prior year, had attacked the neighboring Orkmont clan to capture the eastern half of their island.
The young lord had gotten himself killed in the conflict, though his brother Romny continued the fight, with the Harlaws expected to win the conflict despite Sigrins untimely death. To further this instability, old Victarion Botley of Lordsport, one of the traditional lords that had been present at the Dragons moot had also been killed while raiding the Free Folk, leaving a power vacuum which ended with Hilmar Drumm marching into the castle and declaring himself the new lord.
Aegon had been concerned that this violence could spread to the other clans, it was confined for now but with so many Ironborn lords dying in the last two years, conflict could erupt at any moment as new rulers were not well established.
There was little Aegon could do in terms of Lordsport as that conflict was over, but he had a raven sent to Romny Harlaw, Sigrins brother with a command to cease the violence.
Romny Harlaw had refused, citing the need to avenge his brother. Aegon had not taken this disrespect lightly, but Edmyn Tully had convinced him that perhaps limited violence in the islands was a good thing, it would weaken them and prevent them from joining together to plot any violence against the more civilized Kingdoms.
Aegon had seen the wisdom in his words and agreed, but he would not let Clan Harlaws blatant disrespect for the throne go unpunished. He made arrangements that when Vickon Greyjoy returned from his raid in the Shivering Sea, the Lord Paramount of the Isles would be given a claim on Harlaws land to do with he saw fit, though in truth he was annoyed with Vickon as well, who was not even present in his realm during this tenseous time.
Aegon was shaken from his brooding by the sound of clapping and cheers.
''Wonderful.'' Exclaimed Rhaenys, standing up from her seat clapping, a smile on her face.
The Lysene performers bowed, they had arrived the week prior and had spent every night since regaling the court at dinner with songs and plays, though this was their final performance as they were leaving the following morning.
''I won't let you return to Lys empty handed..Harlan, make sure they are rewarded, generously….you are welcome here anytime.'' Rhaenys said, and Harlan nodded with a slight grimace, construction on a new keep on a neighboring hill had begun, which had taken most of the crown's treasury with its ordering, Rhaenys free spending would not exactly help with rebuilding it.
As the guests sat down and dinner continued Rhaenys turned to Aegon.
''Werent they wonderful Aegon….I was thinking we should offer to take them on full time, their poems would lighten up this smokey hall, and their songs could entertain the little dragon.'' Rhaenys said excitedly.
Aegon had not known what to expect when his sister was informed Visenya was pregnant, he had assumed there would be some jealousy, but if Rhaenys harbored any ill-feelings she hid them well, spending her days preparing chambers for the coming Targaryen and doing her best to make the rough timber keep more livable, since the construction of the new keep on a neighboring hill was expected to take well over 10 years due to its planned size. Visenya had left for her tour months ago along with the Kingsguard Ser Harold Langward and Ser Gregor Goode, with their first destination being the Free City of Braavos, where Sealord Roro would host her and her retinue in celebration for the establishment of the Braavosi outpost in King's Landing, as well as celebrate the Braavosi victory over Pentos.
Following this Visenya planned to travel upriver by barge to the Free City of Norvos, tour the surrounding hills before returning to the city and remaining until the babe was born.
Rhaenys had not just been busy anticipating the arrival of the child of Aegon and Visenya, but also prepared for the birth of a baby to her Half Brother Orys and his wife Argella Durrandon, daughter of the Storm King Argilac. However tragedy had struck with the little girl being born still born, Rhaenys unused commissioned wooden stag toys adding to the terrible sadness that hung over the keep in the coming days.
Orys had handled it well, devoting himself to his work as Hand of the King, but Aegon knew Orys better than anyone and saw how deeply it had wounded him.
Aegon's mind had wandered once again and Rhaenys prodded.
''Did you hear what I said Aegon.'' She asked, a smile still on her face.
Aegon nodded his head ''I would of course love them here but I would not wish to deprive the rest of the world of their…talents.'' The King was not a man who enjoyed poetry or ballads of courtly love.
''Brother…you truly are as crabby as a Celtigar….it would do this place some good to add some cheer, Ryam…what did you think of the performers.'' Rhaenys asked Ryam Redwyne, who was standing at attention to serve the royal family, the boy had since been made a squire.
Ryam looked at his feet ''I…I dont know your grace…I liked when the Knight defended his family from the assassin I guess.'' The poor boy was exceedingly shy, though he had shown to be very loyal to his family, protecting his twin sister Rylene, who was also in the capital as Rhaenys's handmaiden from any sort of trouble.
Rhaenys studied Aegon's face for any chance, to which there was none.
She sighed ''Perhaps I should take a tour of the free cities as well, you clearly have no appreciation for the finer arts…I should very much like to see Braavos and Lys.''
''Dont.'' Aegon said, the words coming out more harsh than he intended them too.
''I need you here, Rhaenys.'' Aegon clarified, more gentle this time.
In truth Visenya's absence had affected the King greatly, he knew his sister was more than capable of taking care of herself, but the thought of his firstborn child being born in a foreign city far away from him was not a pleasant thought. In addition her council was greatly missed, he loved his sister Rhaenys, who despite her aloof personality was competent in governance, but she did not have her older sisters stern taciturn mind, which Aegon found himself in need of with the pox and the outbreak of violence in the isles.
Rhaenys took his hand ''It was a jest, I'm not going anywhere.''
Aegon nodded, somewhat embarrassed by his sudden outburst and took a drink of wine, for the rest of the night doing his best to forget the troubles of the realm.
15th of 5th Moon,
Palace Grounds of Norvos
Visenya stood upon the stone walls of Norvos, her hands outstretched on the ramparts. Nearly three hundred feet below sat the lower city of Norvos, situated along the muddy river Noyne and protected by a wooden palisade, this was where the common folk lived and it was bustling and noisy as the citizens of the towns unloaded river barges and sold carpets in the market below, the vibrant atmosphere a stark contrast to the upper city where Visenya had rested for the last two months, which was very quiet and grim.
Outside of the town stretched hills for as far as Visenya could see, upon these hills large swathes of dark birch forests. When she had first arrived in the region she had explored these hills for several days with a local guide, who had shown her the many caves that dotted the region, supposedly once home to giants and an older people predating the Norvoshi that lived and painted the caves. Somewhere out in those hills Vhagar was also out hunting.
Following her tour of the surrounding hills, she and her guard had made their way to the city of Norvos, where Visenya relied on the hospitality of the bearded priest to stay and rest and await the birth of her child.
''Your Grace.'' A voice said from behind her, startling her.
She turned and saw her Kingsguard, Ser Gregor Goode, clean shaven and holding an Iron cup. He was a quiet bear of a man, and often failed to announce his presence, yet despite his quiet nature and the fact that Visenya was hardly a woman who needed protecting, she found herself more at ease in his presence than that of the young Ser Harold Langward.
Her tour had been interesting insofar as her Kingsguard were concerned. At their first destination touring the free city of Braavos, Ser Harold Langward had overheard a rather unflattering comment directed at their party from a passing Bravo, and the two had nearly come to blows before the situation had been diffused.
A similar situation had occurred upon their arrival in Norvos. The only individuals who were permitted to wear beards in the city were the Bearded Priests, who were responsible for the city's defense and governance. Though the priests had extended the hospitality of Norvos to the Targaryen queen for as long as she required it, they insisted all her retinue shave their beards, her Kingsguard required. Ser Gregor had little problem with this but Ser Harold had taken issue with it and all but refused, earning the ire of some of the priests until Visenya had angrily ordered the young knight to shave his beard.
To be sure the young Ser Harold Langward was not a bad knight, he was brave in battle, skilled at arms, and had a good heart, but he was too brash and stubborn for Visenyas liking, a Kingsguard was supposed to protect, not start potentially dangerous situations.
She took the cup of Nahsa with a nod of thanks. When she had first heard of the odd Norvoshi drink, which consisted of fermented goats milk with honey, she had not entirely been drawn to its description, but her pregnancy had made her more adventurous in her appetite and she had come to enjoy it.
''A beautiful view.'' Visenya said she found the vastness of the dark birch forests, rolling hills and the snaking river Noyne oddly calming, and she often found herself wondering where Vhagar was and what he was hunting. The dragon had followed them throughout her journey, at times lagging behind, disappearing in the shivering sea for several days while they were in Braavos, time enough that even Visenya began to worry, though the bronze dragon had returned just before they were set to sail upriver to Norvos, it always did.
Before Ser Gregor Goode could respond, Visenya heard the quick and aggressive paced footsteps upon the stone courtyard that could only belong to Ser Harold Langward.
Visenya turned to face the young knight.
''I judge by your pace you have important news?'' Visenya asked, raising her eyebrows.
''Yes your grace…a message from Kings Landing…and a grim one.'' The Kingsguard said.
''Go on.'' Visenya nodded.
''Ser Warrick Manderly, our sworn brother has betrayed your family, he was tasked with taking his Lord father into custody, but instead aligned with his father to massacre the retinue sent with him and flee White Harbor for Essos…reports say Volantis but the message says to beware of the fact he may learn of our presence and seek to do you harm.'' Harold said, his brows furrowed.
''Ill news indeed.'' Visenya said, she had thought the Manderly knight the perfect candidate, young, brave and battle tested…but that had not mattered in the end.
''We shall protect you, your Grace.'' Ser Gregor said simply.
''And I am glad for it.'' Visenya said, she did not truly think she was in danger, the more likely scenario was for Ser Warrick to go into hiding that make himself known by attempting harm on the King's pregnant wife.
''My Queen…say the word and I shall sail to Volantis…track him down and then slay the false knight.'' Ser Harold said, with his usual bravado.
''That will not be nec…'' Visenya began before a sharp sensation in her back erupted with pain.
''Your Grace…the child?''Young Ser Harold asked, eyes wide.
Visenya nodded, barely holding herself up on the stone walls.
The Queen had prepared for this moment, having the Norvoshi servants assigned to her prepare a separate chamber for the eventual birth.
''Help me to the chamber.'' Visenya commanded sharply and her Kingsguard nodded, with both knights taking hold of one of her arms and helping her to the birthing chambers.
Ser Harold rather dramatically kicked open the door, surprising the Norvoshi servant women inside, who had their heads shaved bald in typical Norvoshi fashion.
They quickly got the queen onto the bed and began their task, they were well experienced with delivering children, and were much more composed than the two Kingsguard who were a good deal out of their element.
As they began to prepare the Queen, Ser Gregor nodded to his companion.
''This is a battle the Queen must fight alone.'' The Riverlander said simply, and the two Kingsguard left the room to guard the door.
Visenya was a woman who liked to be prepared, and she had spent the last two months resting, preparing her body and rehearsing with her servants.
Because of this preparation, the birth went rather smoothly, though not without its share of difficulty as this was Visenya's first child.
By the end of it, one of the bells of Norvos had begun to ring, a high pitched ringing that could be heard all over the city. The three bells of Norvos were very important to the Norvoshi society, with the bells telling the people of Norvos when to sleep, rise, pray, and other activities.
Visenya, tired and exhausted, managed the strength to sit up, holding the babe in her arms, looking into its violet eyes, the bells continuing their high pitched song.
She turned to one of the servants, who spoke the common tongue.
''What is the name of that bell?'' Visenya asked, stroking the babes head.
''Nyel your grace.'' The servant said.
Visenya turned back to the baby, looking into her eyes.
''Nyel Targaryen……my little dragon.'' The Queen whispered as the bells of Norvos continued to ring.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
The courtyard of Winterfell was loud with the clash of steel on steel, the two warriors oblivious to the crowd formed around them, deeply focused on their dance of death.
Torrhen Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of WInterfell stood in the courtyard, snowflakes slowly falling upon his brown hair, their slow and gentle path a stark contrast to the aggressive clashes of steel in the fight before him, he stood straight despite the cold, his hands clasped tightly around the hilt of his Valyrian greatsword Ice, which was pointed at the ground in front of him.
Beside him stood his heir, Brandon, his third son Donnor, and his only daughter Lyara, who had her hands placed protectively over her pregnant belly, a nervous look on her face as she watched the fighting in front of her. At the other end of the crowd stood the aged Lord Warrick Wells, a pale look on his face.
Lyarra Stark and Warrick Wells had good reasons to be nervous, as the two participants of the melee were close to them, Brandon the ''Bastard of WInterfell'' was Lyarras husband, while Ser Wendall Wells was the oldest son of Lord Warrick.
The two were fighting as part of a trial by combat to determine the guilt or innocence of Lord Warrick Wells, who stood accused of raping a peasant girl and siring a bastard on her, later turning the woman away from his keep after she gave birth, denying her care from his maesters, in which the woman died soon after. In addition to this, it was determined that Lord Warrick had provided the ship that the two Manderly traitors had used to escape White Harbor, which explained why they had not been able to find the ship in the narrow sea, since they had been looking for a Manderly ship.
Lord Warrick, foremost vassal of the Manderlys had been made a high lord following their betrayal, however once Torrhen had heard of the man's crimes he had come to despise Warrick Wells, proclaiming he was not fit to be a high lord, he sent a company of Northern lancers to White Creek Castle, to escort Lord Wells to WInterfell to stand trial, but the old lord had turned them away, and even raised his banners in rebellion before eventually backing down at the advice of his Maesters three days later, and surrendered in Winterfell, demanding trial by combat, as was his right, an intelligent move as his son Wendell was one of the few knights north of Moat Caillin and a fine swordsman.
Torrhen had chosen his half brother Brandon, who had been sired as a bastard by his father. Though many in similar situations had become rivals, Torrhen had always been close to his bastard brother who had served as his right hand ever since he had become King of the North, and later Lord Paramount after swearing allegiance to King Aegon. Torrhen had even granted him the hand of his own daughter in marriage; he could not legitimize his brother, but at the very least he could ensure Brandon's children were Starks. Despite the fact Brandon was nearly two decades older than his daughter and technically her uncle, the low amount of blood they shared meant the marriage was not seen as overly controversial.
''The Bastard of Winterfell'' as he was called was one of the best fighters in the North and had even volunteered to sneak into Aegons camp in the dead of night and slay his three dragons with arrows of Weirwood on the eve of Torrhen's capitulation to the Dragon King. Torrhen had refused his half-brother however, he would not risk dooming his host or his lands to Dragonfire.
The clashing of swords continued, as it had been for almost ten minutes, each man clearly a capable warrior.
''It is a fair fight.'' Donnor said simply, arms crossed.
''Brandon will outlast him.'' Lyara said quietly, her voice little more than a whisper, it was clear the prospect of her unborn child's father dying was one she could scarcely bear.
''The gods will favor whichever man stands for truth.'' Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell said, earning a small nod from Torrhen.
Ser Wendel Wells, who had been on the defensive for much of the fight suddenly launched a counterattack, bringing his sword in a sweeping arc at Brandons head, though the Bastard of Winterfell deftly ducked under it, with the Knight almost losing his balance and falling to the ground, though he steadied himself and the two continued circling around each other. Ser Wendel launched another strike at the bastard, who brought his own sword up just in time, causing the courtyard to ring yet again with the sound of steel on steel, the two men locked their swords and tried to overwhelm eachother with strength, though eventually they both withdrew, the duel still dead even.
Ser Wendel, eager to keep on the attack, quickly hacked at Brandons belly as the two came apart, hoping to surprise him but the Bastard of Winterfell anticipated this, bringing his own sword to meet the strike and very nearly causing the Knight to drop his blade due to the strength of the block.
Torrhen watched with little emotion, he knew his bastard brother had prepared for the fight by drinking an ancient mixture of herbs dating back to the days of the First Men, a mixture said to give one strength in battle, and this far it seemed to be working as Brandon seemed a step quicker than the Knight.
At times during the melee, he had found himself confident that his half-brother would win, even finding himself with the raw urge to cheer Brandon on, in spite of his stern nature, but he had always quickly repressed such thoughts and action, it was the gods that would decide the outcome of the duel, and he would not seek to understand or undermine their will.
Brandon chose that moment to strike, a savage downward hack directed at the Knights skull, it made it past the Knights sword, but at the last moment Ser Wendal brought his shield up, causing a crash of wooden splinters, the knight had launched a counterattack after this but Brandon dealt with it easily enough.
Despite his failure to land a killing blow, Brandon had clearly regained the offensive, causing the Knight to have to defend against his blows.
Finally, the decisive moment arrived after several more strikes and counterstrikes. Brandon launched a devastating series of strikes, the Knight had managed to deal with two of them, both with sword and shield but the final one was too quick for him, and Brandons blade slashed the knight across the forehead, the chainmail doing nothing to stop the blow. The sword left a long bloody streak across his face, the top of his nose and one of his eyes.
Ser Wendal let out a yell of pain, blinded by the blood in his eyes and Brandon took advantage of this, thrusting his sword with all his might into the Knight's chest, the sharp steel puncturing the leather and mail armor, piercing the knights heart and going clear through to the other side.
Ser Wendel slumped to his knees, dead before he hit the ground as Brandon slowly withdrew his blade, causing the knight to fall face first on the courtyard, his red blood mixing with the frosty snow of the courtyard, its tendrils snaking towards the crowd.
Lord Warrick Wells' face had turned milk white at the sight of his son's death, his wide eyes betraying his fear…he knew that his son's demise had damned him as well.
A silence fell over the courtyard, none took pleasure in what they had just witnessed, even if most had favored the Bastard of Winterfell to win, the gods had shown Lord Warrick Wells to be guilty, though at the cost of one of the North's finest knights.
Torrhen nodded slowly, aware of what must be done, he turned to his Justiciar, Lord Robin Locke of Oldcastle, whose lands bordered those of house Wells.
''Take Lord Warrick back to his chambers in preparation for my ruling, have a septon brought to him if he wishes….see that Ser Wendals body is returned to his family lands.'' Torrhen commanded his Justiciar.
''Lord Stark…have mercy I beg you….my lord…I beg you.'' Lord Warrick pleaded as he was dragged to his chambers where he was being held, his cries growing weaker as he was taken farther away.
A Few Hours Later Godswood of Winterfell
Torrhen Stark sat under the Weirwood, Ice in his lap, running a whetstone over the blade, though in truth it was not necessary, Ice was Valyrian steel and was always sharp.
He looked into the black pool of water in front of him, which was still despite the wind.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned, relaxing when he saw it was his Lady wife, Barbary Dustin, a heavyset woman with brown hair and eyes.
''It is time my lord.'' She said simply.
Torrhen nodded silently.
''The man must die…there can be no other ruling….that poor girl who he raped and turned away deserves justice just as much as he deserves punishment for his role in aiding the Manderlys escape.'' She said, her voice rising in intensity.
''I know….as does he, that is why I had the Septon sent.'' Torrhen said, still sharpening his blade.
''A kindness he did not deserve.'' His wife said pointedly.
Torrhen was silent at that, standing up slowly, sheathing his greatsword.
He looked to the sky which was darkening fast, the last light of the sun barely penetrating into the godswood ''You are right…it is time.''
The two made their way to the castle courtyard, which had since been cleaned of blood, both by servants and fresh snow, Ser Wendels body had since been removed, it would be taken to White Creek Castle, the seat of House Wells to undergo rites from their septon.
Lord Warrick stood as well, shivering from fear or cold Torrhen did not know, though from what he knew of the man he guessed fear.
A block had been set up in the courtyard, a simple log with space enough for a mans neck, all in attendance knew the ruling was just a formality, it had been ever since Torrhen had sent the man a septon,
Lord Torrhen stood near the block, Ice in hand and turned to face Lord Warrick Wells.
''Step forward my lord.'' He said sternly.
Lord Warrick made no effort to move and a guardsman shoved him forward, eventually causing the elderly lord to shuffle forward.
''Lord Warrick Wells…..you stood accused of rape and treason against the crown, you put the matter to the gods…who have revealed the truth to all in attendance.'' Torrhen began, looking the old man in the eye.
''Dont….please dont.'' Lord Warrick said quietly, his voice a whisper, he knew as well as anyone what came next.
''In the name of Aegon Targaryen, first of his name, I, Torrhen Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North…do sentence you to die.'' Torrhen finished, nodding to the guards who pushed the old man to the block, and then to his knees, the old lord's arms flailing and shaking in a futile attempt to resist.
''Dont…I beg of yo..AHHH'' Lord Warrick began, before his words turned into a wordless cry, gone as quick as it began, the greatsword Ice ending his protests and his life.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
Torrhen was once again seated under the Godswood, Ice in hand, he had long since scrubbed any trace of blood or sinew from the greatsword, but he was a diligent man and saw to his ancestral weapon near every day.
His peace was disturbed by his Justiciar, portly Lord Robin Locke of Oldcastle, who approached rather uncertainty.
''Ser Wendels and Lord Warrick's bodies has been returned?'' Torrhen asked.
The Justiciar nodded ''Aye they were sent this morning…but there is ill news.''
''Go on.'' Torrhen said, still wiping the rag over Ice.
''Damon Manderly has called his banners and demanded his old High Lordship back from Lord Warrick's brother Ondrew, who refused the demand, both House Manderly and House Wells have called their banners….war has broken out.'' Lord Robin responded.
That caused Torrhen to stop what he was doing, he faced his Justiciar '' Send a raven to White Harbor, demand them to send their banners home and end this nonsense, I revoked the High Lordship for a reason, House Manderly had grown too powerful and opposed the King, remind lord Damon that his son Garth is my ward here, he is in no position to refuse.''
Robin Locke hesitated running a hand through his short red hair ''Lord Stark…Garth Manderly was spirited away from his chambers last night, no doubt by Manderly agents, he is surely on his way to White Harbor as we speak.''
Torrhen was silent for a moment, collecting himself before speaking ''I was merciful…..I chose not to punish Damon Manderly for his fathers crimes…I removed his overlordship from a few castles and villages yes, but I allowed him to keep his ancestral home and his principle vassals….send the raven nonetheless, make it clear that any further action on their part will be considered treason.''
The situation was made even more frustrating due to the fact that Damon and Torrhen were cousins, Torrhen's mother had been a Manderly and the Lord Willem Manderly who had fled to Volantis along with his Kingsguard son was the Lord Paramounts own uncle.
The message was sent and promptly ignored by the Manderlys, who had begun to make a habit of ignoring commands from their liege lords.
Following this, Torrhen Stark sent a company of Heavy Northern Lancers to the gates of White Harbor to demand Lord Manderly's capitulation, the Manderlys who had manned the walls loosed several bolts on the men, with one of the Stark men taking a quarrel to the throat and dying, with several others wounded.
Upon their arrival back in Winterfell and reporting the situation, Torrhen Stark called his banners to Winterfell to deal with the Manderly rebellion.
Torrhen Stark sat upon his horse, wearing a suit of heavy boiled leather armor and a bearskin cloak. On his shoulders were pieces of dark plate armor, the Direwolf of house Stark etched onto them. He wore the same dark plate upon his wrists.
The Warden of the North examined the frozen tundra ahead of him, with the dark waves of the Rams Coast visible in the distance, they had pursued the rebels all the way to the coast.
Torrhen had sent Robin Locke and Maester Harmon to negotiate with his cousin, the rebel Damon Manderly, both men had been present at the negotiations with the Dragon King Aegon and he hoped they could avoid conflict once again, justice demanded his cousin be punished, but he did not want to kill hundreds of Manderly men upon the tundra of Ramsgate.
Their cornering of the Manderly host had been a master stroke by the Warden of the North, with his plan to separate the Manderlys from their warships working to perfection.
Torrhen had called around half of his banners to deal with the Manderlys, amounting to some 17,000 men, including some 500 heavy horse and 2200 light cavalry, more than enough to deal with the Manderlys host of 4000 men. He had led the army personally to siege Castle Hornwood, which swore allegiance to Damon Manderly.
Torrhens bastard brother Brandon had urged him to go straight for White Harbor and Damons force, but Torrhen knew if he immediately went to give battle, the Manderlys would have ample time to escape on their warships into the sea where they could continue the fight and Damon would escape, a prospect Torrhen would not suffer, it was bad enough his Uncle Willem and cousin Ser Warrick had evaded justice.
The Manderlys had the largest fleet in the north and Torrhen would be hard pressed to deal with them without either hiring mercenaries or requesting aid from King Aegon, Torrhen was a proud man and preferred to deal with the threat himself.
His plan had been to siege Castle Hornwood and the surrounding lands, making the Manderlys believe this would be a long conflict of sieges as opposed to battle, and lure them into a sense of false security away from their fleet.
The plan had worked, though it meant that the castle of Blackpool, seat of house Slate, was sacrificed to the rebels, though the Manderlys did not harass the surrounding village or lands, likely knowing their only chance of a favorable outcome in the war was to take all the castles on the coast as swiftly as possible, starving the North of trade and giving the Manderlys good prospects of lenient peace terms.
Following the fall of Blackpool, Damon Manderly ordered his host to the neighboring Ramsgate, seat of house Woolfield away from the safety of their ships, it was then Torrhen made his move.
In the dead of night, he had ordered all of his horse, some 2700 men, to steal a march on Ramsgate, and keep the Manderlys pinned near the coast until the main host arrived. He entrusted this task to Lord Beron Reed, a Crannogmen,who was big for his people and one of Torrhen's best commanders.
The plan had worked and the Manderlys found themself cut off from escape. If Damon had any sense he would have ordered his host to attack the Calvary force and break free, it would have been bloody but they had some 200 heavy horse of their own and could likely breach the lines long enough for the Lord of Wite Harbor to flee to his ships and go into exile in Essos.
Damon had made his biggest blunder then, instead of attempting to break through before the Starks main force arrived, he had his ravens sent to White Harbor, instructing his fleet to sail to Ramsgate's coast and save them.
The Manderlys decision to only leave a garrison at the castle of Blackpool and leave the village untaken had been their downfall. Beron had sent scouts to warn the villagers of Coldhouse that Lord Manderly would likely send ravens that way, and the villagers had shot down every one of Lord Manderly's ravens, though this was unknown to Damon, who had assumed his message had gone through and rescue was on the way…it was not and days later, instead of a rescue fleet, the Manderly host was met with the sight of 15,000 Stark Infantry.
Torrhen then saw his Justiciar and chief diplomat, Lord Robin Locke riding back, alongside Maester Harmon.
Before Torrhen could speak, Lord Robin shook his head ''The proud fool will not surrender, not even to save his own men….there will be battle.''
Torrhen sighed, though in truth he was not surprised, he knew Damon well enough to know that his cousin would always put his own interests ahead of his mens.
He turned to Beron Reed ''He will try to escape in the chaos, I want light cavalry in reserve to cut him off when he does….put a man you trust in command and go to the center, prepare the men to attack.''
The old Crannogmen nodded ''Ill lead the attack myself.''
The attack was launched soon after, Torrhen took command of the left flank and sent his light cavalry to harass the Manderly lines, meanwhile Beron Reed had ordered his heavy infantry forward to break the Manderly lines.
The battle was short as one might expect, the Manderly troops knew they had no chance and many either fled or threw down their weapons, Torrhen allowed them to flee, his fight was not with them, though after the battle there were rumors that some Manderlys that attempted to flee on the right flank towards Widows watch were pursued and slaughtered by one of Torrhen's more ruthless commanders.
By the end of it, nearly 2500 Manderlys were dead, wounded, and captured, with most of that number being captured, losses for the Starks were very light, with only around 5 dozen men being killed or wounded.
It came at a heavy cost however, Beron Reed, the brave old Crannogmen had insisted on fighting in the front rank on foot alongside his men, and had taken an ax to the skull, with the old man dying of his wounds not long after.
True to Tohhrens prediction, his cousin Damon used the confusion of the battle to slip away, predictably riding towards White Harbor, his flight did not last long as two days later Torrhen's riders captured him and brought him to Ramsgate, where Torrhen was awaiting him.
Damon had attempted to use his kinship to Torrhen to his own ends, but Torrhen knew what must be done and had sentenced Damon Manderly to death in the name of King Aegon. Damon had died better than the screaming Lord Warrick Wells, accepting his fate in the end and asking that his son Garth not be held responsible for his crimes, before Torrhen beheaded him with Ice.
The Warden of the North had released the Manderly prisoners, though the dozens of White Harbor Knights captured at Ramsgate had to ransom themselves. Torrhen had also not held Garth Manderly responsible for his fathers crimes, he had fostered the boy for some months in WInterfell and thought the boy to be a good lad, and not the sort to begin any trouble, with those factors in mind, he allowed House Manderly to keep White Harbor, though he made it clear they would not regain their past vassals. Torrhen hoped that with the boy's ascension to rulership, the period of Manderly defiance and the bloodletting in the region would be ended.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
Chapter 7: King Aegons First Progress (Aegon/Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon) (Part 1)
The small ship made its way closer to the shore, its dragon banner fluttering in the wind, the dark black and red cloth making it visible in the light blue sky from miles away, though now it was almost ashore. Even farther behind the ship was a dragon, its bronze scales shining in the sun.
The ship was Visenyas, Aegon's sister-wife and her two Kingsguard were finally returning to the capitol after nearly one year in Essos. She had sent a messenger that had arrived some time ago, stating that she had given birth to a healthy little girl in Norvos, and stated her intentions to sail down the Little Rhoyne river by barge to Pentos, where she would then stay for a month, letting the child recover from the journey from Norvos and Pentos and letting her grow stronger for the 4-5 day sea voyage from Pentos to King's Landing.
Aegon stood, hand on his sword Blackfyre, a feeling of anticipation coursing through his body. In truth he had not much thought of becoming a father in years past, with almost all of his attention devoted to his plans and ambitions to conquer Westeros, and now that he was on the verge of meeting his newborn daughter, he did not entirely know what to feel.
''This is so exciting….the little dragon is finally here.'' Rhaenys said happily, she had not been idle during the wait, contracting seamstresses to make the babe clothes, and even had bought a little silver circlet from a passing Myrish trader, another one of her frivolous expenses.
As the ship came into harbor, Aegon spotted Visenya, who was wearing her silver hair in a long braid, a little bundle in her arms. Aethen Velaryon, the Targaryens cousin and the master of ships nodded to his men who prepared a wooden gangplank as the ship pulled into harbor, with Corlys Velaryon holding out a hand and helping the queen disembark.
Rhaenys immediately embraced Visenya before she stopped to look at the babe.
''She is beautiful, Visenya….tan too.'' Rhaenys said with a laugh, holding out her hands to hold the baby, rocking her gently.
''Sailing for a week down the River Rhoyne has that effect.'' Visenya said with a small smile.
Aegon smiled and approached his sister, embracing her for a good while before Visenya pushed him away gently.
''Go and see your daughter your Grace.'' Visenya commanded.
The King walked over, and Rhaenys gently handed the baby to him.
He took her in his arms and looked down at her, she had already had some wisps of silver hair, and she looked up to him with big violet eyes, a smile on her face.
''I think our little explorer likes you.'' Rhaenys said.
''Does the little explorer have a name.?'' Aegon asked, Visenya's message had stated the child was a girl but made no mention of her name.
''Nyel'' Visenya responded.
''Nyel?'' Aegon asked, he knew of no such ancestor with that name.
''It is the name of one of the three bells of Norvos…she was born under its song..I thought it fitting.'' Visenya responded.
''Very poetic.'' Rhaenys said with a laugh.
The three Targaryens spent several more minutes on the dock, before heading back to the Aegonfort, where a feast had been prepared for Queen Visenya and the Kingsguard Ser Gregor Goode and Ser Harold Langward, that night would be one of stories of far off lands and strange peoples.
Three Months Later
Forests of Crackclaw Point
The smell of pine was heavy in the air as the long column of the royal retinue made their way through the uneven marshy terrain of the forested peninsula of Crackclaw Point. They had been traveling for four days from Duskendale at first along a dirt road, but that had ended once they entered the peninsula, with a clawman guide showing the retinue the best way to traverse the pine forests and bogs to reach the castle Dyre Den, though even with the help of the guide, it had been rough going, especially since Aegon brought 100 total knights from the Aegonfort and Dragonstone, along with their horses, squires and equipment.
Things had settled down in the realm since Visenya's return with Nyel, the pox had abated, never entering Kings Landing despite getting close at times, and the violence in the Iron Islands had also ended for the moment, though there was word that a large band of robbers and reavers had formed on the Island of Pyke, taking advantage of Vickons Greyjoys absence.
With the realm seemingly at peace, Aegon had ordered preparations to be made for a months-long tour of his own realm, which he called a royal progress. During the royal progress he would travel the land, staying in local castles, holding court in some as well as administering judgment and gaining a better understanding of his realm, an idea his sister Visenya had agreed with, thinking it prudent.
Given that this was the first such progress to ever be made, Aegon would start small, though he would stay for a night in castles along the way to his destinations, he would only stay for an extended period of time in three castles, which he had instructed Grandmaester Arlan to select randomly, giving all the lords of the realm, no matter how powerful or small, a chance to be visited by the King. He had also decided to take a strong retinue with him, 100 heavy knights, their squires, servants, six of his Kingsguard, as well as some hunters in an effort to impress his vassals, he was a King after all and he wanted his retinue to reflect his power.
His sister Visenya, who played a large role in planning the royal progress would not be accompanying them, not only because she wished to remain in the capitol with Nyel, but shortly before they had left the capitol, she had informed Aegon she was once again with child. Together, Visenya, Edmyn Tully and Orys Baratheon would rule the realm in the months Aegon and Rhaenys were on the royal progress, to ensure the safety of his wife and daughter, he had also left the Kingsguard Ser Harold Langward in the capitol, who was in need of a rest.
The planned route of the progress was first to travel north from the capitol to Duskendale, then through Crackclaw Point to the castle of Dyre Den, seat of the aged Lord Alyn Brune who had come to King's Landing to be made the High Lord of the point, they would remain at Dyre Den for some time. Following this they would leave by ship to the North, stopping for some time at a small castle in the poor county of Eastmelt before riding across the interior of the North to the Flint Cliffs, their final stopping point. They would then take a ship to Seaguard and ride back to King's Landing from the west.
Aegon turned to Rhaenys, who had not been her normal cheerful self the last few days of trudging through the pine bogs. She had wanted to simply ride by Dragon to Dyre Den but Aegon thought it best that they arrive at Dyre Den all together, to show their unity.
''One day we shall have to send men to make roads in parts of the realm such as these….they are cut off from trade.'' Aegon mused as they passed yet another small ruined keep, moss growing over its cracked stone, a common sight in the pine bogs.
''We should not even be on the roads.'' Rhaenys said gloomily, looking up into the sky, where one of the Dragons could be seen through a crack in the forest roof.
''The people of this realm dont understand our Dragons, if we arrive on their backs they will only fear us, but they do understand knights…let them see we do not just command the loyalty of Dragons but also men..let them see the white cloaks of the Kingsguard…that they will respect and even admire it….a King cannot rule with fear alone.'' Aegon responded.
Rhaenys was silent at that.
Eventually they made it through the worst of the bogs and the ground became more stable, and they made good time after that, reaching Dyre Den by nightfall. The castle of House Brune was not a particularly impressive one, being quite small, with three crooked towers situated on a large ledge overlooking the Bay of Crabs, it was only accessible by a long winding path up the cliff, forcing Aegon's retinue to leave their horses behind with their squires, and go up one at a time, with King Aegon at the forefront.
They were greeted by Lord Alyn Brune, who had the small courtyard lit with torches. The old lord insisted upon standing at the entrance and greeting every knight personally as they ascended into the castle before welcoming Aegon and his Kingsguard into his hall for feasting, the other knights would be seated at wooden tables outside in the torch-lit courtyard for their own feast. Crackclaw Point was not a rich land and feeding 100 knights for an extended period of time would put a considerable strain on House Brune, though this was mitigated by the fact that all the lords of the Point had contributed food to their Lord, seeing the Kings visit as honoring the whole region.
Aegon and Rhaenys were seated at the high table alongside Lord Alyn and his young blonde wife, Aegon's Kingsguard ate at the other smaller tables alongside Lord Brunes champions and kin, though Ser Gawen Corbray stood at attention behind the high table as he was the Kingsguard on duty.
''Mother have mercy there's dragons flyin about me keep.'' Lord Alyn Brune said with a laugh.
Rhaenys smiled ''You have nothing to fear Lord Brune…your house is loyal…and a true friend to the crown.''
''Aye…I see it as a great honor..i'm sure many of my descendents shall grow up hearin of the time the Dragon King sat in our own keep, with the Black Dread flying out in the bay.'' Lord Brune replied.
''I must ask your grace…where is your sister..the one with the bronze Dragon, we were hoping to see her once more, she was kind to my people when we swore our allegiance to her at the beginning of your conquest.'' Lord Brune continued.
Aegon nodded ''She wanted to be here of course…but she is pregnant with my child, and did not want to leave our young daughter unattended.''
''Ah…the mother blesses you..two children in as many years….if youre of a mind to think ahead i've a grandson, we Brunes may be a bit rough a'round the edges, but we've noble blood runnin through our veins we do.'' Lord Brune said.
Aegon had graciously turned him down saying it was too early to think of such things, in truth he had no intention of marrying off his daughter to such a minor family, but he did not wish to offend his host, and he did not lie about the latter, his daughter was not even a year old yet, far too young to even consider the future.
Once the feasting had died down, Lord Brune had ordered the main entertainment of the night to begin, a saga of songs and ballads by local clawmen bards about the storied history of Crackclaw Point. The primary focus had been on the Brothers Brune, two of Lord Alyns ancestors who had unified the Clawmen and brought peace to the region nearly 200 years prior, though only for their lifetime.
Rhaenys, who had since recovered from her discomfort of the journey was enthralled by the tales, and true to her poetic nature had even joined in the chorus of a few songs, and suggested a few additional rhymes much to the Clawmens delight, who quickly came to admire her just as much as her older sister.
The Next Morning
Hall of Dyre Den
''Your Royal Grace.'' The blackhaired Septon said, bowing deeply if clumsily.
Aegon nodded for him to rise and speak.
''Beggin your pardon your royalship…but our small sept, which I oversee was visited some weeks ago by the crab men who came demanding taxes……though we've never had to pay taxes to Lord Brune, much less outsiders….the little coin we do get goes to helpin the orphans of those that are lost to the sea.'' The man said, who had only introduced himself as the local septon.
''Crab Men?'' Aegon said, though in truth he already knew the answer, they could only be the men of House Celtigar of Claw Isle, a small island near the point and one of the Kings original vassals, the Celtigars tracing their lineage back to minor lords in Valyria.
''Must be Celtigars….they often poke their noses round the point, askin for tribute and such…i've a mind to run them off each time but they always run to their ships….and ive no wish to break your peace.'' Lord Brune mused, who had been assisting King Aegon the past few hours in holding court, with the King dispensing judgment on minor matters.
The septon nodded ''Aye your lordship…Celtgars…that sounds near right it does…around two dozen of them landed close by and demanded we pay them tribute….id a mind to refuse them, gather some o' the nearby fisherfolk to resist em, but they 'ad iron and shields while we'd only cudgels and fishing spears.''
''You did well not to fight them.'' Aegon mused, relieved that no bloodshed had occurred, the fisherfolk near the sept would have been slaughtered by the Celtigar men, who had fought in every campaign in the conquest.
''Well beggin your pardon your royalship…but…but they took what little silver we had, and I has a few orphans to feed, parents lost to the sea or that pox they were.'' The septon continued, Aegon had struggled to understand the clawman accent at first but after hearing quite a few petitions he was getting the hang of it.
''We shall be glad to pay you for your losses, plus some extra for the children.'' Rhaenys said with a smile. They had brought a chest of silver with them to disperse among the smallfolk they encountered.
Aegon frowned, he was understanding of the Septons plight but as a general rule he did not like giving coin to the faith, the High Septon was one of the richest men in the Kingdoms and he was more than capable of dealing with matters such as this.
Rhaenys ordered Lord Commander Corlys to fetch the chest of silver for the septon, to which he complied.
Rhaenys promised amount of a ''little extra'' was an understatement to say the least as her gift to the Septon was very generous, likely amounting to more silver than he had seen in his life.
The man fell to his knees ''Thank you your Queenship, this will feed the little 'uns for years it will.''
Rhaenys had nodded and then proposed that she go and visit these orphans to which the Septon had happily agreed to arrange the short trip later that day.
Following this petition, the old lord Brune had sighed and gotten up ''Nature calls your grace.''
Aegon nodded, he too was in need of a break after hours of hearing minor petitions, he nodded to Ryam Redwyne, his squire who poured him a cup of wine.
Suddenly there was a sound from outside the keep, a shout and sounds of a scuffle, with it being apparent that it was coming from Lord Brune.
Aegon drew Blackfyre and hastily made his way to the door, Ryam Redwyne and Theo Tyrell close behind him.
When they stepped out into the courtyard, they were met with the sight of Lord Brune, standing against the keep, breathing heavily, in front of them was Ser Fredder Brune, Alyns heir and eldest son holding a man with long brown hair to the dirt, a dagger at the back of his neck.
''What happened?'' Aegon demanded.
''He attacked me….was waiting outside the door with a knife….the warrior gave these old bones enough strength to fight him off until my boy stepped in.'' Lord Alyn Brune said, still breathing heavily.
''Say the word and i'll gut 'im.'' Ser Fredder said, pushing the dagger harder into the man's neck, who grunted in pain.
Aegon shook his head ''No we need him alive….he was sent by someone…we must find out who.''
Ser Fredder nodded and roughly pulled the man up to his feet ''Start talking or i'll take your eye.''
Aegon raised a hand for silence, to which the Clawmen knight reluctantly agreed.
The King sheathed his sword and approached the long haired man, who failed to meet his eyes.
''Look at me.'' Aegon commanded.
The would-be-murderer slowly looked up.
''You will tell me who sent you…and I shall see justice done.'' Aegon said.
''Justice….'' The man said, his eyes returning to the dirt.
''I shall ensure you don't die screaming…..quick…painless.'' Aegon said.
The man was silent for a good while, weighing his options in his mind before he nodded ''Lord Celtigar….he promised me 20 gold dragons if I killed the Clawman lord…lots of people coming and going…was easy enough to slip in.''
''I say we send him to that bastard…piece by piece.'' Ser Fredder said, spitting to the ground.
''No…I gave my word…kneel.'' Aegon commanded, his hand going to Blackfyres hilt, the long haired man slowly went to his knees, hands shaking.
''Your grace.'' Lord Brune interjected, causing Aegon to stop.
''The seven have been good to me…aye ive had my share of troubles…but they've been good to me….the mother teaches us to be merciful….spare the wretches life…send him to the wall…let him spend the rest of his miserable life servin the realm.'' Lord Brune said.
''If that is your wish.'' Aegon said, his hand leaving Blackfyres hilt, he took no joy in killing, and at least now the man's life would serve some small purpose.
''How should I respond to the lord o'crabs your grace…shall I call my banners?'' Lord Alyn asked.
Aegon shook his head ''Leave Lord Celtigar to me.''
The King did not even wait for his sister to return from her visit to the orphans, immediately riding Balerion to the Island of Claw Isle, a trip which took less than two hours.
He had landed in the center of the courtyard, diving down from above, shocking much of the garrison before Lord Celtigar came out to meet him. Aegon had then ordered the Lord into his keep, and had all guards cleared out so that he and the Lord of Claw Isle could speak alone, all but imprisoning Adrian Celtigar in his own keep.
Aegon had then explained to the lord that he was aware of his attempt on his neighbor's life. Lord Celtigar had initially denied it but when reminded by the King that lying to one's liege was punishable by death, he had admitted it, stating that he should have been made overlord of Crackclaw point for his service in the conquest.
Aegon had decided that killing one of his oldest vassals would accomplish nothing, and instead demanded that Lord Celtigar pay a hefty ransom to free himself from his own keep, and promise never to break the King's peace again, on pain of death.
Following this, Aegon would return to Dyre Den, where he and his retinue would remain for another week before sailing north
The King's retinue rode through the snow, a brutal wind in the air.
Their next spot was the tiny castle of Karlspost in Eastmelt, the seat of House Moss, a minor house which was sworn to the Karstarks of Karhold. The environment was frigid, with deep snow, poor roads, and many frozen rivers cutting across the landscape making travel slow. They had arrived in the small port of Weeping Bay the prior week, and it had taken them 7 days of slow travel to reach their destination.
There were few people in this region, at least that they had seen, but on the outskirts of the tiny stone and timber castle was a small village of lumberjacks, who had all come out to witness the Kings arrival, many of them looking into the skies with wonder and terror as the Dragons followed close behind.
Rhaenys had given the villagers a generous gift of silver as was her habit before the retinue made their way to the small keep. Aegon had not protested, these people were clearly in need of silver for Eastmelt was a harsh and poor land where nothing grew.
At the front of the castle was a blonde haired man about Aegons age, wrapped in a massive cloak of bearskin that covered his whole body, and even covered some of his horses, he and a few retainers rode to meet the King.
The man bowed his head ''You honor us with your presence King Aegon….i'm afraid my keep is far too small for your Knights and Squires and their horses, but Ive had a makeshift stables set up for them, and land cleared for some tents, you, your sister and your closest Knights are of course welcome in my castle.
''Your hospitality is appreciated lord Artos.'' Rhaenys said with a smile.
''You can handle our presence?'' King Aegon asked politely, he had known that Karlspost was a small castle but he had not been expecting to arrive in such a desolate area.
''Normally we could not, especially so many, but my Lord of Karhold has sent sufficient provisions, as has Lord Torrhen Stark, they see your visit as an honor.'' Lord Artos said.
Aegon nodded, relieved, he had known that his large retinue would cause some strain among his vassals but he did not wish to bankrupt House Moss.
''My Queen, if I may speak freely.'' Lord Artos said as they rode into the castle.
''Of course my lord.'' Rhaenys responded.
''I saw your charity to the tenants of the nearby village…I admire your charity, though I must say I fear it will end up in the wrong hands soon enough.'' Lord Artos said.
''Wrong hands?'' The King asked, eyebrows raised.
''My lands are infested with smugglers and brigands im afraid….I have tried to deal with them as is my duty, but my people are spread out and any attempt to assemble the levy alerts these criminals, who slink into the snows when I approach, what's more I do not have the food to feed my men sustain a campaign against them for long..I fear that gold will end up in the hands of the criminals.'' Lord Artos said, it was clear that these criminals were a major thorn in his side.
''Lord Karstark has not attempted to deal with them?'' Aegon asked with a frown.
''My liege Osric is a good man, a good lord, I have known him since childhood, but Karhold is a large region and he has stresses enough dealing with his own lands.'' Artos Moss explained.
Aegon nodded and he, Rhaenys, and his Kinsguard made their way into the tiny castle to hold court.
Two Hours Later
Keep of Karlspost
There had been fewer petitioners in Eastmelt than in Dyre Den, likely due to the smaller population, and most of the disputes centered around timber, with one villager claiming that some trees on his land had been stolen by another.
Most of the matters had been settled by now, and there was just one more petition to hear.
''You may approach the King.'' Ser Corlys Velaryon nodded to the last man, who had a long black beard.
''Your Grace'' The man said bowing his head ''I own a small holding a few miles from here, along the weeping river, the land is rich with timber and it's been in my family for generations.'' The man began.
Aegon leaned back, he had gotten used to the rather long winded explanations of the small folks troubles.
''The brigands in these lands normally stay clear, as I have two farm hands I hired to keep intruders out and patrol my lands, but their numbers have increased and so has their boldness. A fortnight ago they came from the forests in the night, like devils….slew both of the men I had hired and took my land for their own…I barely escaped their wrath with my life.'' The man said.
Aegon turned to Artos Moss.
''I had heard of this incident your grace, but the brigands are numerous and well armed….and I am loath to raise my men for such an expedition and leave my keep ill-defended…I have hosted the man here however…it is the least I can do.'' Artos explained.
Aegon nodded and turned back to Galbart, the petitioner.
''How many men took your land?'' The King asked.
''Two dozen your grace….a few of them had shields and helmets, most had clubs and spears'' The man answered.
Aegon was quiet for a moment before turning to Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon.
''Cousin, step forward.'' He commanded his Kingsguard.
''Your Grace?'' Ser Corlys said, approaching the throne with a bow, his white cloak dragging over the timber floor.
''Take 20 knights of your choosing and drive out these outlaws so that this man may return to his home.'' Aegon commanded.
''At once your grace.'' Corlys nodded.
Aegon then turned to his squire Theo Tyrell ''Theo…you shall accompany my cousin and squire for him…it is time you witness combat firsthand.''
Theo Tyrell bowed his head ''I shall represent my house well your Grace.''
Three Hours Later
Galbarts Lands, Banks of the Weeping River
Corlys Velaryon knelt on the snowy hill, his white hair, armor and cloak seemingly making him a part of the hill itself.
Galbart spoke true The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard thought, the holdfast had around two dozen men walking around, many of them in front of a fire, where a deer was being roasted.
He quietly made his way behind the hill where hsi twenty knights were waiting, mounted.
''They've fortified the holdfast with a wall of wooden spikes, our horses will do us no good, tie them to the trees and leave a man with them…we attack on foot.'' Corlys said, and his knights nodded, dismounting.
''Shield.'' Corlys commanded and Theo Tyrell obliged, handing the Lord commander his large shield, painted pure white, with the seahorse sigil of his house in the middle.
He took the Tyrell boys shoulder ''Go and grab a sword Theo, you will be at my side….you know how to use live steel?''
Theo nodded ''I know how.'' he replied quietly to which the Lord Commander nodded his approval.
He drew his sword and nodded to the dismounted knights behind him ''With me….we shall give them a chance to surrender…if they do not we attack on my command.''
The knights slowly approached the fortified holdfast, their heavy plate boots crunching through the snow.
They were spotted a while off, and the bandits within quickly got to the perimeter, armed with a collection of pikes, cudgels, spears and daggers, with the occasional rusty helmet or dented shield.
''What d' ye want!'' One of them, presumably their leader, called out.
''I want you to lay down your weapons….I command this in the name of King Aegon Targaryen, first of his name….lay down your weapons…and I can promise you fair trial.'' Corlys called out, having to shout due to the high winds.
''Don't think we will…..call it a trial all you like….none of us'd come out of that with our heads…turn back and save yourself a bloodletting…we've fortified this holdfast.'' The man said, drawing his sword.
''Wooden spikes won't save you….'' Corlys yelled back but there was no response.
''So be it…'' Corlys said quietly, drawing his own sword to which his men did the same.
The Knights charged the ramshackle fortifications of the bandits, with Corlys leading the charge himself.
One of the brigands, armed with a makeshift wooden pike thrust at the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard as he leapt over the wooden spikes, but Corlys easily guided the pike away and opened the man's neck with a slash, spilling bright red blood into the snow.
His next opponent was dressed in heavy furs with a block hood, carrying a short spear and a wooden shield. He proved to be more of a challenge than the last man.
Corlys launched a trio of strikes, all three being blocked by the bandit before the hooded man thrust his spear forward, forcing the Lord Commander to parry it, the man was surprisingly strong for a bandit.
The bandit launched two more strikes, which Corlys blocked with sword and shield before launching his own counterattack, slashing the man's arm and forcing him to drop his spear, Corlys stepped forward to deliver a killing blow but the man managed to flee, Corlys let him run…there was no honor in chasing down a fleeing man.
His knights were making short work of the bandits, though he saw one, a knight from Dragonstone take a dagger to the back of his neck.
Suddenly he realized he had lost track of the Kings squire Theo Tyrell in the fighting, he turned to his right and saw the heir to Highgarden engaged in a duel with a bandit with a pox-marred face and an iron sword, dressed in a leather jerkin. The bandit launched a clumsy strike at the 15 year old Theo, to which the squire managed to sidestep. While the bandit was snarling and cursing, the young Tyrell was silent, eyes furrowed in concentration.
Corlys, out of the main melee at this point stood at the ready, he had no intentions of letting the heir to the Reach be killed by a stinking bandit, but the boy claimed to be trained, now was his time to prove it.
The bandit let out another crushing strike, and Theo caught it upon his shield.
Theo hesitated instead of immediately counterattacking, allowing the bandit to launch a surprisingly fast attack, Theo caught it on his blade, but he got the angle of the block wrong and his blade clattered out of his hand.
Corlys decided enough was enough and was about to intervene when Theo, wielding his shield with both hands, caught the bandit on the shoulder, pushing him backwards and giving him time enough to retrieve his sword from the ground.
Theo didn't hesitate this time, charging forward and hacking the bandit just below the neck with the full length of his sword, sending blood spewing everywhere, the bandit fell on his back, gurgling blood, his eyes wide.
''Good…now finish him….bandit or not he need not suffer.'' Corlys said.
Theo nodded and walked forward, raising his sword and bringing it into the bandits belly, ending the man's cries.
Corlys then turned his attention back to the main melee, which was mostly done by now, the sounds of dying men in the wind.
The leader of the bandits stood surrounded, hacking widely around him as a circle of knights advanced.
''Step back….he's mine.'' Corlys commanded his knights, he would give the man a clean death.
''You wish to dance…you silver haired freak….fine then…i'll take at least one of ye to my grave.'' The bandit said.
''You will try.'' Corlys said simply, facing the man, his knights expanding the circle around them.
The bandit charged him, a wordless cry on his lips and hacked his sword downwards, Corlys calmly blocked the strike, using his feet to push his blade to the side after his steel met the bandits, causing the man to stumble to his feet, Corlys let the bandit get up and the dance continued.
The brigand launched an attack at the Kingsguards chest, but Corlys easily sidestepped it and launched a counterattack of his own, which the bandit caught on his sword before launching another strike, which Corlys turned away. The ringing of sword on sword could be heard as Corlys blocked yet another strike, content to let the bandit tire himself out.
Corlys, sensing the man was tiring launched another slash at his face, the bandit tried to step backwards but was too slow and the Kingsguards sword found his cheek, creating a long red gash.
''Bastard….'' The man growled.
Those were the man's final words as Corlys did not waste time delivering the final blow, feinting a slash at the man's neck before turning it into a brutal thrust at the man's face at the last moment, the sword going through one of his eyes, killing him instantly.
The Knights broke out into a cheer as the bandit leader fell into the snow.
Corlys stepped back, the fatigue, which had not been present during the fight due to his adrenaline beginning to set in. He looked around, losses had been light in the assault, only one knight had been slain, the man from Dragonstone that had been stabbed in the back of the neck, but five more had been wounded, including one that would likely lose an eye.
He turned to Theo Tyrell, who was looking at the bandit he had killed.
''Theo, fetch my rag from my horse.'' He commanded and the boy nodded quietly and returned soon after.
Corlys took the rag, dampened it with snow and ran it down his blade, wiping the blood and gore from it.
''You fought well….my cousin mentioned you were meant to observe combat for the first time…and you probably got a better taste of it then you expected, you're blooded now.'' Corlys said.
''I let him disarm me….he was just a bandit.'' Theo said quietly, hints of embarrassment in his tone.
''Aye…he did disarm you, but he was bigger, stronger and tougher than you….you are a good sword for your age…but remember, you haven't even seen sixteen years yet…you haven't grown into your body yet…you will….today you got a taste of what it is you've been training for….you've learned.'' Corlys said.
''I won't be disarmed again.'' Theo said adamantly.
''Good….now kneel.'' Corlys said, putting the bloody rag away.
''Kneel?'' Theo Tyrell asked, his eyes widening.
''Aye….Im making you a knight….you fought bravely.'' Corlys said, gesturing again for the heir to Highgarden to kneel.
Theo Tyrell did as he was bid, and Corlys began the ceremony, in the courtyard, among the bodies of the dead.
''Theo Tyrell. do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?'' Corlys asked, his sword on the Tyrell boy's shoulder.
''I do…I swear it.'' Theo Tyrell said quietly.
''Then rise Ser Theo of the House Tyrell.'' Corlys commanded and Theo did, to the cheers of the knights around them.
They rested that night nearby, and returned to Karlspost the next morning, welcomed as heroes by the garrison for their heroic deeds, and Galbart was especially pleased, as he was free to return home.
Aegon was slightly perturbed that his squire had been put in such a dangerous position since if anything were to happen to him, House Tyrell and the Reach in general could be thrown into chaos, but after further conversations with his cousin, he agreed it was probably for the best that the young lord had a taste of combat before he returned to Highgarden upon his sixteenth nameday.
The Kings retinue stayed at Eastmelt for another week before heading to their next destination, the Flint Cliffs, which took them nearly two weeks of travel through the North's interior to reach. It had been a rather uneventful visit, though Rhaenys had enjoyed taking Meraxes out to sea, and the flint cliffs, which stood high above the water, had been an impressive sight.
Following a two week stay at the Flint Cliffs, hosted by the minor house Wolfe, Aegon and his retinue had taken a ship on a short voyage to Seaguard, before riding through the Riverlands back to King's Landing. The Kings first royal progress had taken five months from start to finish, and had largely been a success, especially in the North where the Kings presence helped mend the uneasiness that had spread over the region after the Manderlys defiance.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
King Aegon took his seat amongst the small council, a smaller gathering then they normally had present.
While the King had been away on his royal progress, the small council had suffered a loss. Lord Alyn Chyttering, the spymaster had passed away in his sleep, the man only 47 years old. Visenya had confided that she had suspected poison at first, but Grandmaster Arlan had found no signs of it and Aegon had his doubts as well, he did not endorse plots or scheming but he had a grudging respect for Alyn, who worked hard to keep him apprised of current events, Aegon thought it unlikely the man had allowed himself to be murdered.
His untimely death left the small council without a spymaster, though Visenya was preparing a list of candidates, and she still insisted on attending the meeting, despite being six months pregnant, Rhaenys had volunteered to watch Princess Nyel and was not present either.
Despite having no spymaster, Edmyn Tully as master of laws maintained an understanding of events within the realm, and Harlan Tyrell knew of some events within the free cities due to his trading connections as master of coin.
''Let us hear events within the Kingdoms first.'' Aegon said, drawing a nod from Edmyn Tully.
''Of biggest importance is the death of Sharra Arryn…she passed away in Winterfell…natural causes im told….there will be no claimant to both the Eyrie and Winterfell.'' Edmyn began.
Aegon nodded, he had not truly felt threatened by the prospect, and felt more pity than anything, young Ronnel Arrys mother had left him to marry the heir to Winterfell, and had never returned to her son.
''There has been little else of import your grace, though I hear that two of the mountain clans in the North are at eachothers throats in some clan feud, Torrhen Stark has sent negotiators to try and end the bloodshed,'' Edmyn continued.
''I had expected the Ironborn to be restless, but the fact that the North has seen so much trouble was not something I expected.'' Aegon said.
''Northerners are a stubborn people, and an ancient one….feuds and rivalries run deep there your grace…i'm afraid it doesn't take much to bring them to conflict. '' Grandmaester Arlan replied.
''There has been news on my end as well….the free cities are embroiled in conflict as ever…Norvos has won a trade war with Qohor, Lys and Tyrosh have completed slave raids on the Summer Islands, and Braavos has just occupied the free city of Lorath after Lorath interfered with their trade with the Vale, though I expect the city to be returned once Lorath agrees to end its business in the region.'' Harlan Tyrell said.
''Norvos and Qohor being at odds does not surprise me….the Norvoshi see the followers of the Black Goat of Qohor as heretics.'' Visenya mused, she had of course stayed in Norvos for several months.
''Will your Grace be wishing to tour the progress made on the red keep?'' Harlan asked.
While Aegon had been on his progress, significant construction efforts had been started. First and foremost, another keep was being built on a neighboring hill, though it would be built with red brick as opposed to the timber hall of the Aegonfort.
The workers had rather predictably started calling the new project, ''The Red Keep'' and progress had been stunningly fast, with hundreds of workers coming from all over the Kingdoms for steady pay, if back breaking work, In addition to this, a small wall was being built around Kings Landing and the seven gates of the City Watch had been fortified into actual gates.
Aegon nodded to Harlan's question ''Yes, arrange it for tomorrow.''
The Red Keep would soon be habitable, but Aegon had no intentions of moving on from the Aegonfort just yet, he planned many more expansions to the keep which could take decades, and only when it was truly finished would he move his household.
''I think we can adjourn for today my lords…if there is nothing else?'' Aegon said standing, causing all his councilors save Harlan Tyrell who waited behind to speak with the King and Visenya alone.
''Your Grace…I recently received a raven informing me of a domestic issue in my realm…one which concerns your squire….Ryam Redwyne.'' Harlan began.
''The boys father…Perwyn Redwyne?'' Visenya guessed, earning a nod from Harlan Tyrell.
Aegon and his sister were familiar with the Lord of the Arbor, he had been present at the coronation at Oldtown, and had attempted to undermine Aegons decision to name Harlan Tyrell as Lord Paramount of the Reach by trying to convince the King that he should have been given the role instead. In addition to this he had tried to barter for this role by using the vast fleet of the Arbor as leverage.
''There is a small isle off the Arbor with a sizable castle, called the Mermaids Palace…owned by House Goldwyne, a small house that pledges fealty to the Redwynes….in fact the two houses share distant relation going back to House Goldwynes founding'' Harlan began.
Aegon sat silently listening to every word, he knew his master of coin would not inform him of an event that was not significant.
''Lord Perwyn has long coveted the isle and castle for himself….and he made his move recently…the heir to the castle, Garlan Goldwyne was a boy of six, before he was smothered in his sleep by one of the servants….when she was caught, she revealed Lord Redwyne sent her.'' Harlan finished.
''He must be dealt with….and harshly.'' Visenya said.
''Aye…but I know the boy Ryam…your squire is heir to the Arbor….I have sent word to my castellan to prepare men to take Lord Redwyne into custody…but I thought it best for you to inform the boy before I take any action….he will be a lord soon.'' Harlan said.
Aegon nodded and summoned his squire into the chamber, explaining his fathers crimes.
Ryam stood silently as it was explained to him before nervously looking at the King.
''Your Grace….my fathers crime should be punished….he has shamed the honor of my house….but I ask for mercy….I ask that he be sent to the wall so that he can make something of his life.'' The squire said, a request that took a lot of courage as the boy was painfully shy.
Aegon looked to Harlan Tyrell, who nodded his head slowly, a sign he was receptive to the idea.
''I shall allow your father to take the black….but if he resists than I may have no choice but to take harsher action…and he will have to answer for the murder of the boy, I mean you or your house no ill-will but Lord Goldwyne is demanding that all the lords of the realm hear of his sons murder….it will be known that Perwyn Redwyne is a murderer.'' Harlan said.
Ryam nodded.
''Ryam….you will inherit the Arbor and thus become its lord….you will be a man in three years time…but you are old enough to start making decisions for yourself…I give you a choice…to remain here as my squire…or to return to the Arbor.'' Aegon said.
The boy hesitated before nodding ''I will remain here with you your grace…my sister is here as well and I would not leave her alone…and my uncle Garmon Hightower serves in your Kingsguard….my family is here I have learned much from you.''
Before Aegon could respond, the door to the council chamber swung open, Orys Baratheon in the doorway, he had not been attending the small council meeting and instead had been supervising the construction of the Red Keep.
''A ship just arrived at the dock Aegon…a ship bearing important news.'' Orys said.
''Let's hear it.'' Aegon said.
''Meria Martell is dead……her granddaughter Deria has taken the throne, and according to the trader…her position is weak.'' Orys said, this was important news since Aegon plan for the conquest of Dorne relied upon the death of Meria the Old, who despite her blindness and age was much loved by her people.
Aegon gave a small smile, while Visenya took her brother's shoulder, Harlan Tyrells face was bone white however.
''It's time Aegon.'' Visenya said.
''The final conquest….Orys, send out ravens to the great houses….call the banners….raise the levies of the city and Dragonstone as well, we will raise an army in the Crownlands as well.'' Aegon said.
Visenya, ever aware, turned to Harlan Tyrell ''You look pale my Lord.''
''Your Grace….forgive me…but my eldest daughter Jana is in Dorne right now, I have arranged a betrothal between her and Lewyn Martell…she is not to be married for a year or two but I thought it best to send her on a tour of the land she will one day call home…I fear if I raise my banners….they may kill her.'' Harlan said.
''You should have told me….you knew we planned to invade Dorne…why marry your daughter ahead of the planned invasion.'' Aegon said with some annoyance.
''I know your grace…but it was a proposed betrothal…not official yet…and tensions were growing on the border my realm shares with the Dornish, I felt if I did not make peace somehow then a conflict could break out with Meria Martell, one you wished to avoid.'' Harlan Tyrell explained.
Aegon sighed ''I won't ask you to risk your daughter's life by joining the conquest…your banners are excused from the fighting…though I will insist you keep a force raised at Horn Hill and make sure they do not break through the passes there.
''As you say your Grace…I shall send ravens to prepare it.'' Lord Harlan said gratefully.
''Fool.'' Visenya scoffed when he had left the chamber.
''Hes served us well…and once the conquest is complete it will be good for the Dornish to be bound by blood to another one of the Kingdoms.'' Aegon said, it would be a loss to not have the Knights of the Reach, but Dorne was not a particularly strong Kingdom and they could manage without.
''Aegon….you know Id like nothing better than to be at your side….cracking some Dornish skulls…but I must request that my banners are excused from the fighting.'' Orys said, somewhat embarrassed.
''The pox?'' Aegon guessed.
''Aye…Haystack Hall lost near 50% of its fighting men, and some other counties are not much better…I can't ask my people to fight in a war so soon after the pox has ended…though you have my word I'll keep men on the border…and ensure the Dornish don't cross the Sea of Dorne.'' Orys explained.
Aegon was much more sympathetic to his half-brothers reasoning than he had been to Harlans ''Aye….your banners won't be needed…besides I need you here ruling with Visenya during the campaign…and you should be with your wife when she gives birth.''
Orys's wife was pregnant as well for the first time since their first child, a little girl had been stillborn, though Aegon had offered the finest maids to assist his half-brother's wife, the same women that would help Visenya give birth in a few months time.
Orys nodded a thanks and left the chamber, leaving Visenya and the King alone.
''You should consider being here when your child is born as well Aegon…I know you are needed to command but you could return here in two months…stay for a while.'' Visenya said, guiding Aegon's hands to her belly.
''What do I do for the child for its future….the same as I do it for Nyel….but I cant return….there can be no distractions in war….If I return to the capitol to see our child…I don't know that id have the strength to go back to war…..I'll come back to you…but only when the war is won.'' Aegon said, in truth he did wish that Meria of Dorne had died some months later so he could be at Visenya's side for the birth, he had not been present at Nyels birth either, but he had to finish what he started.
Visenya nodded, clearly not surprised.
''Fire and Blood brother.'' Visenya said quietly.
''Fire and Blood.'' Aegon responded.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
King Aegon sat within his tent, listening to yet another messenger prattle on about their lord's reasoning for not participating in the campaign, and while the others had been respectful, this one was almost smug, his lieges disdain for Aegon apparent just through his written word.
''My Lord of Lannister will not be raising his banners your Grace, he reminds you that his vassalship only obligates that he send men if the realm is attacked or faces rebellion, in wars of expansion the choice to participate is the Lord Paramounts.'' The messenger said.
''Your message has been received….I trust you can make your own way back to Casterly Rock…'' Aegon said curtly, and the lannister messenger nodded and left the tent.
The messenger spoke true, despite the Lord Paramounts allegiance to the Targaryens, they could not be forced to raise their banners in wars of expansion.
The King had received many such messengers lately, he had already known the Reach and Stormlands would not be sending men, but some of the other regions were more surprising. Torrhen Stark of the North had sent a raven stating that the distance between the North and Dorne made their participation impossible, and besides that he found it unwise to leave his lands after so many minor issues among his vassals.
The Riverlands had been the most surprising, Edmyn Tully had not officially agreed or denied the Kings call to arms, instead claiming to need time to raise a force, but Aegon knew his master-of-laws well enough to know that, despite being loyal, Edmyn Tully knew his rights and felt he had contributed enough men to the Targaryen cause the past few years.
That left the Vale and the Iron Islands. Since Ronnel Arryn was not yet of age, Aegon had the right to order the Knights of the Vale to join the campaign, but the King had chosen not to do so. If he raised them, all the logistical matters of their mustering would fall to him, and not the lords of the vale, which included their feeding and pay, a logistical challenge, and besides that he didn't have enough ships on the eastern coast to transport them all at once and would instead have to do it piecemeal, so instead Aegon had decided he did not need the Vale.
Surprisingly, it had been the region where Aegon's influence was most tenuous that had been the most enthusiastic to the King's call to arms. Vickon Greyjoy had pledged 200 longships and some 15,000 men to the conquest, though Aegon was smart enough to know they were more interested in plunder and glory then they were loyal.
Rhaenys had wanted Aegon to refuse them, saying that the Ironborn were only joining as an excuse to rape and plunder Dorne, but Aegon, while understanding of their true motivations also understood he needed them, they were his only allies in this war and their ships would make it so that a multi-pronged invasion was possible, Aegon attacking down through the boneway from the Stormlands, and the Ironborn landing somewhere along the coast, forcing the Dornish to fight two enemies.
Aegon had a formidable host to his own credit, he led an army of some 10,000 men drawn from the Crownlands, several thousand from King's Landing, while others were drawn from the Kingswood and Blackwater Bay, though his biggest advantage were his and his sisters Dragons.
His first objective was to take the castle of Wyl, the first Dornish fortress guarding the boneway, a long narrow mountainous pass that connected the Stormlands to Dorne. He had considered burning out the garrison, but Grandmaster Arlan, who had insisted on accompanying the King shared his knowledge that Wyl had caverns underneath it that Dragonfire would not touch, and the garrison would retreat to in the event of an attack, their best course of action was to starve the castle to surrender.
In addition to this attack through the Boneway, he had tasked his cousin and master of ships Aethen Velaryon, to take 45 galleys and 1600 men, the strength of Dragonstone and capture the island castle of Ghaston Grey which the Dornish used as a prison. In truth the island had little strategic value, but capturing it meant that they would have complete control of the Sea of Dorne.
9th Moon, 8001 King Aegons Tent, Wyl
''In the name of Lord Walter Wyl….I do surrender the castle with the authority given to me as regent.'' The Dornish knight said, drawing his sword and giving it to the Kingsguard Ser Gawen Corbray, a symbol of the castle's surrender.
''I accept your surrender Ser..on the conditions neither you or any of your garrison bear arms against my men..'' King Aegon said with a nod. After around three months of siege the castle had surrendered, their food stores running low, the lord of Wyl was a boy of around 14, and so the surrender had been conducted by his regent, an unlanded knight called Ser Neilyn, the master of arms of Wyl.
Ser Neilyn nodded his assent and hesitated for a moment ''I would speak with you your grace.''
Aegon turned to his Kingsguard and nodded, the man had given his sword and he had all his Kingsguard in the tent with him, save for Ser Stafford Lannister who he had left in the capitol to guard his pregnant sister Visenya and their young daughter.
Aegon nodded to the chair and the Knight sat.
''If you're coming down the boneway, then your next target is Yronwood….seat of the second most powerful house in Dorne….you won't take the castle like you took our castle…its walls are thicker and the castle is bigger, it can hold 5000 men and feed the for a year, it has wells inside the walls….they have had time to muster that amount I would guess.'' The Knight said.
''And why should I believe that Ser….you refused to surrender the keep for weeks, and now you wish to aid us?'' Aegon said.
''I have no love for the Yronwoods, before the young lord Walter inherited the keep I served his father Edwyle, he was not a perfect man…but he had a fine military mind…I respected that….Lord Yronwood had him poisoned.'' The Knight responded.
Aegon nodded ''If you hold such a dislike of the Yronwoods, why resist my army for months, you yourself have said that they have had ample time to prepare their garrison and foodstores, if you wish for their fall the wiser move would have been to let us pass.''
Ser Neilyn nodded slowly ''Perhaps you are right, your grace….but this war will end one way or another, and no matter who wins I intend to be standing at the end of it…what would my reputation be if I was known as the man that surrendered Wyl without resisting….I held out for as long as I could….none can blame me for surrendering.''
Aegon nodded slowly ''I can respect that….your counsel is noted.''
The Dornish Knight bowed his head and began to leave the tent.
''Ser Neilyn.'' King Aegon said, causing the knight to turn around.
''I will not take you into my service in this war….but if you are standing at the end of it come to Kings Landing….I have need for Knights, especially honest ones.'' Aegon said.
''I shall your grace.'' Ser Neilyn said with a final bow, leaving the tent.
The King did not attempt to take the nearby village, his goal was to advance through the boneway, not to plunder the homes of smallfolk, people that would one day be his own, once the surrender of Wyl was attained, the King and his host rode south, to Yronwood, a formidable castle.
Two Weeks Later
Castle of Yronwood
Aegon, Rhaenys and his Kingsguard rode towards Yronwood, the Dornish mountains on their side.
It was easy to see why House Yronwood was the most powerful house in Dorne save the Martells, the land, unlike most of Dorne, was forested, with many rivers snaking through the mountains, the land rich and fertile.
The castle was made of gray stone, with high thick walls and several round drum towers, the main entrance was guarded by a massive Iron Gate with bars several feet thick, the battlements were teeming with men and it became clear that Ser Neilyns claim the castle could hold 5000 men was no exaggeration.
Suddenly the massive iron portcullis slowly opened, the sound being heard at a great distance, once it had opened a group of men rode out, all armed and armored, one of them carrying the banner of house Yronwood, the yellow and black gate fluttering in the wind.
At the forefront was a man about Aegon's age armored in steel, a yellow and black cloak on his back, his hair obscured under a metal helm with white cloth wrapped above the nasal, though the man's piercing blue eyes were visible even at a distance.
''It is customary to bow before ones King….but since you are on horseback we shall dispense with that…I shall take your surrender now my Lord.'' Aegon said as the Yronwood retinue approached.
''I am no Lord….and you are no King of mine……I am Ser Cletus Yronwood, my fathers heir, and I have been tasked with the defense of this castle….go back the way you came and perhaps you and your whore of a sister will survive.'' The man said spitting to the side, his voice stern as steel.''
''You will watch your words…'' Aegon began but Rhaenys put a hand on her brothers shoulder to calm him
''I shall forgive your insult my lord…in the interest of resolving this matter quickly…surrender the castle and you have my word you and your family shall be able to leave in peace, your garrison shall be treated fairly as well.'' Rhaenys said in a conciliatory tone.
Ser Cletus was silent for a moment and then spit to the side again ''And why would I surrender you foreign bitch….I have the castle provisioned and prepared to withstand a siege for years…enough food to feed 5000 men for however long it takes for reinforcements to arrive and drive your abomination of a brother back to the Stormlands….you will be crushed between the army of Dorne and my garrison''
Aegon was not a man used to having such brazen insults directed at him or his family, much less to his face, and it was only Rhaenys's hand on his that allowed him to keep it together.
''You are lucky that I abide by the laws of the land….if you were not under the flag of truce you would pay for those words Ser.'' Aegon said curtly.
Ser Cletus was silent at that, his piercing blue eyes meeting the Kings.
''Ser Cletus…I have no doubt you have prepared your castle well for a siege…but it is all for naught…there will not be a siege.'' Rhaenys began.
''Then you are more fool than I thought….you have less than 10,000 men, you cannot hope to take the castle by storm….but by all means try…doom your bastard men to a battle they cannot win.'' Ser Cletus responded.
''You misunderstand Ser…we have two dragons, if you insist on following this path it will be you who is dooming your men to dragonfire….you can prevent this…surrender the castle and you will be treated fairly.'' Rhaenys said, almost pleadingly.
''Aye…I know of your Dragons….look upon the battlements….I have half a dozen Scorpions…you fly your beasts anywhere close to the battlements and you will be shot from the sky.'' Ser Cletus said, gesturing to the six huge wooden crossbows positioned on Yronwoods walls.
''Your arrogance is the same that Black Harren showed in Harrenhal, I trust you know of what happened then Ser.'' Aegon asked.
Cletus shook his head ''Black Harren did not have scorpions.''
''If you think you can kill our dragons with….'' Aegon continued before Ser Cletus interrupted him.
''You…and your dragons can go fuck yourselves….you say there shall be no siege…than you are more than welcome to throw yourselves at my walls…come dragon or siege tower….you will die.'' Ser Cletus said, nodding to his men who rode back to the castle, kicking up a cloud of dust.
''He has left us no choice.'' Aegon said, looking at Rhaenys.
His sister nodded sadly ''They will surrender….once they see enough Dragonfire….we need not kill all of them.''
The King nodded ''It's not my intention to….I see no point in delaying what must be done….we attack within the hour.''
Rhaenys nodded and left to prepare as Aegon went to his tent.
He was met by Ryam Redwyne, who began putting on his armor, heavy plate of shining silver, with ruby and onyx in the shape of the dragon on the chest. The armor was too heavy to fight on foot or horse with, even for Aegon, but it would serve on the back of the Dragon.
''How do you mean to avoid the Scorpions your grace.'' Lord Commander Corlys asked , his role would be to lead the ground troops outside the castle, once Yronwood had its share of Dragonfire, he would enter the castle and accept the surviving garrison's surrender.
''We will fly straight down into the center, obscured by the sun, then we'll destroy the scorpions, one by one…they won't resist long after that.'' Aegon answered, as Ryam placed a heavy plate helm on his head.
Corlys nodded ''You will succeed cousin.''
One Aegon was armored he left his tent where Rhaenys was waiting, garbed in lighter armor of black leather and scales.
''Fly high….out of range of their arrows and throwing spears, Scorpions shoot slowly but they will focus their fire on us….don't ride in a straight line….and most importantly we must stay spread, if we ride close together it will be easy to hit us.'' Aegon said as they walked towards their Dragon, who true to their nature seemed to sense they were needed.
Rhaenys nodded, her normally cheerful and lighthearted attitude replaced with a serious one ''I shall take the scorpions on the right battlements, you take the ones on the left and center.''
As Aegon approached, Balerion lowered his head and neck, allowing Aegon to climb on, Aegon had not ridden Balerion in combat since the Field of Fire, more than two years prior, but the memories of the battle came back to him now.
''Fire and Blood.'' Aegon said to Rhaenys, who had mounted the silver Meraxes, his sister nodded and together they flew towards the sky.
Aegon could hear the shouts of Yronwoods garrison running to their battle stations as he commanded Balerion to fly into the air with his whip. They flew straight up into the sky, hundreds of feet into sky, hurtling vertically towards the sun, with Rhaenys and Meraxes following at a distance.
Around twenty feet away, Aegon saw a scorpion bolt flying high into the sky, eventually losing power and falling harmlessly to the ground.
The King continued his flight straight into the air before, sensing the time was right, ordered Balerion down, the wind screaming as they cut through the air in a downward spiral, the sun at their back.
He heard shouts from below as well as the whistling flight of arrows, but he forced himself to ignore that, he needed complete concentration. He heard shouts of confusion from below as the garrison tried to
The courtyard of Yronwood came into view, Balerion hurtling straight down towards it, the thrum of a scorpion being fired was heard and Aegon ordered Balerion up suddenly, putting him level with one of the sidewalls as well as one of the scorpions, its crew desperately trying to reload it, but it was too late.
''Dracarys.'' Aegon commanded and the entire wall was bathed in flame, the scorpion being set alight as the men on the wall shared in the flame, many jumping or falling to their deaths off the wall to escape the fire.
He allowed himself a quick look to the side and saw Rhaenys had taken out one of the Scorpions on the other side, dozens of men screaming in pain.
He flew across the courtyard, Balerions wings blocking the sun as the Dragon let forth another stream of fire on a group of men, several arrows clattered harmlessly off of his side, Aegon spotted a group of archers and soon they too were bathed in flame.
By this point most of the Scorpions had been destroyed, but there was one left, sitting atop a large stone tower that could only be the keep, Aegon ordered Balerion forward, the Dragon dodging an incoming scorpion bolt.
As they got closer, Aegon could make out the face of Ser Cletus Yronwood, with his squire and brother close behind, all screaming for the scorpion to reload, but it was too late for them. Aegon looked at Cletus as he flew closer, a look of defeat in the man's pale blue eyes as he accepted his fate.
Balerion bathed the entire towertop in black-red fire and where there had once been a large group of men now there was only flame, only the screams proof that men had once been there.
It was then that tragedy struck. The Scorpion on top of the tower, burning and on fire, plummeted down to the courtyard below….right in front of the entrance to the keep, obstructing the door.
Smoke was everywhere, and as Aegon flew around, he saw that a fire had started in the keep too, causing its inhabitants, mostly women and old men to crowd around the tower window for air, likely the court and family of the Lord of Yronwood, unable to escape due to the fallen scorpion.
''AEGON….WE HAVE TO SAVE THEM.'' Rhaenys shouted, turning Meraxes around and flying towards the burning tower.
''THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO….IT'S GOING TO FALL.'' Aegon yelled back, an arrow flying just feet away from his face, if Rhaenys attempted to help them, the tower, which was severely damaged by the huge scorpion falling could fall down and strike Meraxes from the air.
Rhaenys ignored him and with a determined look flew towards the smoking tower, in the window among the crowd, a gray haired woman was standing, holding a toddler out into the air, screaming for help.
Rhaenys had Meraxes position itself to fly alongside the side of the tower, holding out her hands to grab the child, Aegon, seeing his sister was not going to listen to him, ordered Balerion towards the tower to help.
Rhaenys was about twenty feet away from the tower, one arm outstretched to try and grab the toddler as she passed by, but she was too late.
The tower fell, its foundation cracked and broken by the scorpion's impact from falling from the top.
Rhaenys shouted a scream of horror, and Meraxes was just barely able to get out of the falling towers path. The tower hit the ground with a massive crash, sending chunks of stone everywhere, a cloud of dust overtaking the entire courtyard.
The fall of the tower marked the last resistance inside the castle, as the surviving garrison laid down their weapons and opened the gate for Corlys Velaryons forces.
Aegon ordered the tower's rubble to be searched for survivors, but he knew it was hopeless, none could have survived the towers fall.
In the space of an hour, House Yronwood, the second greatest house in Dorne, a house that claimed ancestry to the first men thousands of years ago was all but destroyed, with most of its members perishing in the tragedy, save for the elderly lord Yronwood who was with the main Dornish army, as well as his sisters who were married off to other houses, and whose children were not Yronwoods.
In addition to the deaths of the Yronwoods, two local lords, Mors Jordayne and Castos Toland, the spymaster and master-at-arms of Yronwood would also perish in the flames, Mors in the tower and Castos upon the battlements. Even the Yronwoods maester perished.
Rhaenys would be devastated and horrified at the destruction they had reaped upon House Yronwood, and would be inconsolable for days, walking among the ruined tower looking for the child she had failed to save.
The only saving grace, slight as it was, was the fact that Grandmaester Arlan had been present and had watched the tragedy unfold. He would record the truth of the event, the histories would always refer to the burning of the Yronwoods as a terrible accident and not the work of a tyrannical and murderous King. Arlan also did his best to treat the surviving garrison, many of whom were badly burned.
The Dornish, as one would expect, were furious when they heard of the burning of Yronwood, and throwing all caution into the wind, abandoned their plans for a defensive war and marched their host to meet Aegons army outside the smoking castle of Yronwood, where a great battle would soon take place.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
Corlys Velaryon, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard sat upon his horse, looking across the field at the Dornish Host that approached them from his vantage point on the hill, his sworn brothers mounted around him, their white armor shining in the sun. Ser Gregor Goode held the standard of the Kingsguard, a plain white banner waving in the wind.
It was a pleasant day, though one that would soon see its fair share of blood and death. Two weeks prior, their scouts had informed them a large host was approaching Yronwood to give battle, Aegon had been content to await them at Yronwood rather than attempting to take another castle after its burning, the boneway had been taken and their supply lines were intact. Orys Baratheon had not committed his men to the campaign but he was more than willing to send food and supplies to the Targaryen host, giving them the luxury of simply waiting.
The luxury of time meant that Aegon, Rhaenys and Corlys had been able to plan the coming battle and they meant to make use of the hills around them, arranging their 8700 man army in three equal forces spread out along the hills outside Yronwood, the forests at their sides.
Aegon and his sister would of course be fighting atop their dragons, so command of the land forces would fall to Corlys and other smaller commanders, the Lord Commander and his sworn brothers would be fighting on the right flank, where they expected to face the men of Prince Lewyn of Dorne, younger brother to Princess Deria and the current heir to Dorne.
Ryam Redwyne, the king's squire would also be squirting for the lord commander in battle since Aegon would be on his dragon, the newly knighted Theo Tyrell would not be present however, as his sister was in Dorne and his presence could be seen as an act of aggression.
Corlys had to admit the Dornish had brought an impressive host, numbering some 14,000 men, the scouts claiming it comprised nearly 2400 cavalry, a number that did not appear to be exaggerated. In addition to this, the Dornish had brought several scorpions with them which were being prepared for the coming battle.
''We will be outnumbered…..even with the Dragons we will need to keep our discipline, the King and his sister cannot be everywhere at once.'' Corlys mused, the scouts estimates were that the Dornish had nearly six thousand more men, though this was counteracted by the Targaryen dragons and their defensive positions on the hills.
''It doesn't matter how many they number….we shall throw them back.'' Ser Harold Langward said.
''Aye…the bastards will burn.'' Ser Gawen replied, the ruby in his Valyrian steel sword shining bright like his armor.
''Nevertheless we will not be rash….we will respond to their attack, give the King and Queen time to burn their host.'' Corlys said and his sworn brothers nodded.
''With their numbers they could send a force through the forest, hit us in our flank.'' Garmon Hightower said he, was a fine warrior and sword but was not a man that liked to ignore any possibility.
''Unlikely, they would be spotted by the King or his sister from the air, and would be burned easily, they wouldn't be able to bring a Scorpion through the woods.'' Corlys responded.
Before the reachman could respond, a cacophony of trumpets sounded…the Dornish were beginning their attack.
''Helmet.'' Ser Corlys demanded and Ryam Redwyne handed the Lord Commander his helm, made of heavy silver and steel plate with eye slits.
From the hill he saw Lewyn Martell was sending his heavy infantry in first, split into two groups advancing on the flanks while archers advanced up the middle, seemingly undefended.
''He wants us to attack his archers …draw us in….order a shield wall with our own infantry we won't fall for it, send the cavalry behind the hill in reserve, they will be targeted by their archers.'' Corlys demanded and one of his men nodded, sounding a trumpet giving the orders, and the Targaryen right flank began to make a shieldwall at the top of the hill.
He turned to his sworn brothers ''Dismount, our horses will do us no good in a shield wall.
He saw Aegon and Rhaenys had mounted their dragons and were beginning to fly towards the advancing Dornish, Corlys forced himself to focus on the battle in front of him, he always felt powerless that despite being a Kingsguard, he could do nothing to defend his cousin on dragonback.
The Dornish, seeing their trap had not worked merged their two groups of heavy infantry into one, advancing up the hill while the archers once in range began to fire up the hill, several of their arrows striking shields around the Lord Commander, who along with his sworn brothers was present at the front rank.
''LOCK SHIELDS…TIGHTEN THE LINE.'' Corlys commanded and the shield wall tightened in preparation for the Dornish charge.
A wordless cry came from the Dornish as they charged, many of them in heavy leather and chainmail armed with two handed axes or with shields and maces, the men necessary to break a shield wall.
The crash was enormous as the two lines came together in a crash of shields, with the front line of the Targaryen line being pushed back initially.
A dornish warrior in a padded leather jerkin with a steel nasal helm charged the lord commander, raising a two handed ax in the air, but Corlys calmly blocked the strike upon his shield, causing the blade to become stuck, Corlys then hacked his sword at the wooden handle, shearing the ax in two. The man could only give a surprised look at his now useless weapon as Corlys delivered a fearsome hack under the man's nasal helm at his face, sending blood and bone everywhere as the man fell to the ground, his body rolling down the hill.
To his left he saw a Dornish warrior on the ground,wounded and begging for mercy, but Ser Gawen Corbray gave him none, bringing Lady Forlorn into the man's neck with a yell of rage. Ser Gregor Goode had the standard of the Kingsguard in one hand, and the other a shield, in which he used his strength to hold the line.
A dornish warrior with a Glaive cut down the man in front of Corlys and charged the lord commander, but Corlys punched his shield forward, shattering the man's neck and causing him to crumple to the bloodstained ground.
The Lord Commander had fought his way past the shield wall at this point and he sighted his next opponent, who appeared to be a nobleman.
The man was dressed in a rather brown plain cloth vest, with a vest of stitched leather on his chest, he wore no helm and had only a long ashen spear. Corlys would have thought him a common soldier if not for his demeanor.
Corlys was far enough away from the main fighting to approach the man, who stood with his spear outstretched.
''If we would come to blows I would know your name Ser.'' Corlys said as the battle raged around them, the two men circled each other.
''I am Galeran….but you give me an honor I do not possess for I am no Knight…I own a small keep along the coast….my ancestors have lived there for centuries, first as fisherman and eventually lords…it is for their memory I fight….they lived and died free….as will I if necessary.'' The man said calmly.
''I shall give you a clean death my lord'' Corlys said.
''Perhaps.'' The lord of Sandford said, before the melee began in earnest.
Galeran launched two strikes with his spear, but the lord commander blocked them both with his sword, forcing the spearpoint away. Their isolation had ended by now, and the battle had moved around them, but both men seemed not to notice, focused on their deadly dance.
Corlys launched an attack this time, but Galerion dodged it and counterattacked, the Lord commander blocked the strike with his shield and very nearly was able to cut the spear in half with his sword but the dornishman withdrew it at the last moment. It was clear that Corlys was far more skilled, but the man continued to fight on, sidestepping a shield bash from the Velaryon knight, but Corlys had simultaneously launched a backhand strike from above cutting the man's spear in half.
True to his word, Corlys gave the man a clean death, a sword through the throat which killed the man instantly.
Despite this victory the melee on the right remained stalemated with both sides continuing the fierce fight.
Skies above the Battle
Balerion let forth another stream of fire, setting the hills ablaze, along with the unfortunate men and horses in the front rank. The commander of the Dornish center had sent forth his light cavalry and horse archers to try and draw the Targaryens from the hill, but Aegon had not been letting them get close.
After the destruction at Yronwood, Aegon did not want any more death than was necessary, and his main objective for the battle was to simply force the Dornish to retreat as opposed to destroying their whole army, many of the men that fought against him on the field would someday be his people.
True to that end, Aegon had been more focused on burning the land around the Dornish center flank, preventing them from advancing and hopefully showing them the battle was pointless, but they were a brave people and slowly but surely were advancing.
The King had been so focused on his task of stopping the centers advance that he had neglected to keep an eye on his flanks, Rhaenys and Corlys were competent commanders and he trusted them completely, so it was a complete surprise when he heard the trumpet sounds from the left flank, signaling a fighting withdrawal.
He turned and saw that Rhaenys's flank was in bad shape, and the Dornish had essentially neutralized her and her dragon.
They had scorpions, archers, and horse archers firing into the air, not so much with the goal of hitting her, but with the simple goal of filling the sky with arrows and preventing her from getting close and helping her men.
The Dornish left was commanded by Gerold Dayne, a formidable commander, and head of an ancient and powerful house which Grandmaester Arlan had educated him on extensively.
Gerold Dayne, having essentially taken Rhaenys out of the fight, had sent his remaining horse archers to attack the flanks of the Targaryen defenders, shooting up the hill at them.
The defenders had fallen for the trap and attempted to drive off the horse archers, but once they had left their positions on the hills and abandoned the high ground, Lord Gerold had sent his light cavalry to attack them, thundering across the field at lightning speed and catching the Targaryens by surprise.
Aegon realized he would have to intervene or the withdrawing men on the left would be slaughtered, but before he could do that he had to deal with the Dornish center, and he did not have the luxury of holding back now.
The dornish in the center had actually been emboldened by the King's mercy, thinking that the Dragonlord had been trying to kill them but could not control his beast, they were wrong, and after a few torrents of Dragonfire, they fell back, leaving behind dozens of their comrades burning.
With the center dealt with, Aegon turned his attention to Lord Gerold Daynes men. The Lord of Starfall was no fool, he knew that his Scorpions were not positioned to employ the same strategy as they had against Rhaenys, but he was determined to offer at least some resistance, but it was futile, and another line of men burned before the Lord of Starfall angrily ordered a general retreat, Aegon let them go, the battle had been won.
The right flank which had been deadlocked in a melee for so long finally had a victor.
Lewyn Martell had made the rather puzzling decision to break off the shieldwall and withdraw his heavy infantry while at the same time sending his horse archers and light horse forward, hoping the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would pursue the infantry and be caught in the open by the horse archers.
Corlys Velaryon did charge his men, but the Dornish horse archers, distracted by the men burning on the other flanks were poorly organized and easily chased off by the Lord Commanders infantry, leading to Lewyn ordering his flank to withdraw as well, leaving the Targaryens the victor of the battle of Watersmeet, named after a nearby coastal village.
The battle had not been a decisive one as Aegon had allowed his opponents to retreat and not attempted to completely slaughter them, but nonetheless it had still been bloody.
By the end of it, nearly 2500 Dornishmen had been killed, many in the melee on the right as well as the burning of the center. The Targaryen losses were not insignificant, numbering around 1000 killed and severely wounded, most of them on the right, having fallen victim to Lord Gerold Daynes' trap.
House Yronwood would receive another crippling blow as we,,, Lord Yohn Yronwood, the elderly lord and the last surviving male had attempted to flee the field, his horse burned and in pain threw him from the saddle down a hill, the last Yronwood male dying some days later of his wounds, all but spelling the end for the once mighty house.
Aladale Wynch sat at his tent, a mug of ale in his hand, the morning sun of Dorne marking the beginning of another day of siege.
This is not the glory I was promised. The Ironborn reaver thought to himself.
Vickon Greyjoy had promised them glory beyond measure if they followed him to Dorne, with the Lord of the Isles pointing out that since no other great lords save for the King himself were joining the war, they wouldn't have to share the glory.
In truth however, there had been little glory thus far after months of campaigning. They had landed at the castle of Spotswood some months prior, and Vickon Greyjoy had preferred to starve the castle into submission rather than assault it, which was not the way of the Ironborn.
To their credit, they had scavenged some honor by assaulting the village of Olivegrove once Spottswood fell, killing its garrison and many men folk, taking many saltwives and stealing a good deal of plunder, and they had followed this up by assaulting a less fortified keep in the area.
Two rights do not undo a wrong. The Lord of Iron Holt thought to himself, they should have assaulted Spottswood, and now the same thing was happening here during the siege of Sunspear.
Vickon Greyjoy had preferred to remain in Spottswood with a small retinue, enjoying the fruits of their labor and the plunder they had gained from Olivegrove. While the Lord of the Isles leisured in the keep at Spottswood, drinking its wine, killing their prisoners and enjoying its women, he had tasked Aladale with sieging Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, a prospect which would likely mean over a year of sitting around in tents around the sand.
In truth, Aladale Wynch did not hate Vickon, the two had reaved together in the shivering sea, forming a bond which Vickon had used to give him the command of the siege of Sunspear and Aladale had to grudgingly admit Vickon was a great warrior and commander.
He knew Vickon was wrong on this however, there was no glory in besieging castles, starving them into submission, the Ironborn way was to assault the walls, cost of life be damned and take their due, not sit around and wait for it to be given to them.
Vickon can win his glory through mummer's duels…I will make mine today. Aladale thought. Vickon Greyjoy had a rather unsavory reputation throughout the isles of challenging salt wives that displeased him to duels for entertainment in front of his men; two such lorathi women had perished that way at the end of Vickons ax.
''Pate….get in here.'' Aladale shouted outside the tent, causing his younger brother, a boy of 14 with jet black hair to walk in.
''Brother.'' Pate asked, running a hand through his hair, the boy constantly found time to see to his appearance, even in the middle of a siege camp.
''Go find my hornman…tell him to call all the captains to my tent and to ready our men…i've sat here long enough.'' Aladale commanded
''You mean to attack….they have three walls…it wont fucking work.'' The young Wynch asked incredulously.
Aladale gave his younger brother a clout on the ear, and then ruffled his hair ''Were Wynches brother….the blood of the Gray King flows through our veins…it will work..I've come up with a plan.''
''A plan?'' Pate asked.
Aladale nodded ''Aye now go do as i've asked.''
Pate nodded and ran out to find the hornman, who let out the command for all the captains to gather at Aladales tent, Aladale set down his ale…he would need to be sober for what came next.
Once assembled, Aladale explained his plan, he would send 40 longships out to sea. However, they would be manned by a skeleton crew of camp followers, thralls from the Olivegrove, old men and young boys as well as a few warriors to oversee them, the ships would be chained together in 4 rows, allowing them to be undermanned, though the Dornish wouldn't see that until it was too late.
The Dornish, seeing 30 longships, would expect near 4000 men to be approaching by sea and send men to man the sea wall, leaving the front gates weakened, after the sea wall was manned, Aladale would order an assault of the walls with his full strength of over thirteen thousand Ironborn warriors.
Even if the plan worked to draw off some of the Dornish garrison, taking Sunspear by force was still a daunting and risky proposition. The seat of the Martells and principale fortress in Dorne was encircled by three large walls of sandstone, each one encircling the one behind it, and even if the walls were breached, there would be brutal fighting in the miles of winding streets and bazaars, perfect places for staging ambushes. The garrison numbered some 2300 men, a formidable amount.
It took a few hours to have the ships chained together, which were well out of sight of the walls, and another two hours to get them out to sea and approach the sea wall of Dorne. The plan appeared to have the desired effect as a large amount of the Dornish defenders moved from the front walls to the sea wall, though the men remaining at the main walls were alert for the possibility of an attack.
The Ironborn army had formed into a massive horde, obscured behind several large sand hills, Aladale had put many of his own warriors in the Vanguard, he wanted the sagas to sing that the men of his Clan had been the first over the walls.
Aladale was no coward, and he planned on participating in the fighting, but he was no fool either, fighting in the Vanguard was likely a suicidal notion and he wanted to be alive to bask in the glory his victory, so he positioned himself in the third rank, close enough to the front that he would win much renown and have a chance to be at the forefront of the fighting, but far enough back that the risk of being killed by stones or arrows before even breaching the walls was minimal.
Aladale saw no point in a long drawn out speech, but he was of course expected to address the massive army before they assaulted the walls. He walked to one of the hills and stood upon its crest, looking down on the seemingly never ending mass of Ironborn in front of him.
The Lord of Iron Holt raised his two handed ax above his head, a fine weapon with an ax head made of castle forged steel from Qohor, a weapon he had gained while raiding a ship in the shivering sea.
''FOLLOW ME INTO BATTLE AND THE RICHES OF SUNSPEAR WILL BE YOURS…FOLLOW ME OVER THESE WALLS AND THE SAGAS WILL SING OF OUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS FOR A MILLENIUM…..FOLLOW ME AND EARN A PLACE IN THE HALLS OF THE DROWNED GOD.'' Aladale shouted, his purple cloak waving in the wind as the sun slowly began to set, casting a dark and dim orange light across the sky.
The Ironborn screamed half a hundred war cries, ranging from clan words to traditional chants…they were ready to die….and to kill.
The hornmen signaled the charge and the Ironborn emerged from behind the sandy hills, like ants on a sandy field.
They were a good distance away from the castle walls, but the Ironborn made no attempt to save their energy, wordless battle cries on their lips, many of the Berserkers in the front line in a full out sprint despite their heavy armor, following close behind them were around 50 groups of the strongest warriors, carrying wooden ladders.
As they got closer the Dornish defenders began loosing arrows at them, in well organized volleys, striking dozens of Ironborn before they even reached the walls, but whenever a man carrying a ladder was struck another Ironborn quickly took his place.
We are a swarm…a swarm of death, Aladale thought as they made their way closer to the walls. A scorpion mounted on one of the towers struck a group carrying a ladder, its giant steel bolt turning the unfortunate group of men into a crimson mess of flesh and bone.
Despite the Dornish defenders best efforts the Ironborn were too many, and they were able to get many ladders up on the first sandstone wall, though the Dornish opposed them by dropping heavy rocks and pouring boiling tar on some ladders.
As he approached the wall, Aladale waited a moment, letting the men in front of him take the brunt of the stones, throwing spears, and tar before he began scaling the ladder, convinced the men up ahead had a foothold.
The fighting on the walls was brutal, with both Dornish and Ironborn being thrown, kicked and hacked off the wall to the ground dozens of feet below.
As Aladale scanned the ramparts for his first opponent, a Dornishman found him first, yelling a war cry and catching the Lord of Iron Holt by surprise as he turned around, the man, who was wearing a cloth turban that covered most of his face jabbed a spear at Aladale, its point puncturing the heavy steel armor in his chest, but stopping just shy of actually puncturing his flesh, the spearpoint becoming stuck.
Aladale laughed as the man tried desperately to withdraw his spear from his plate armor, hitting the man with the wooden handle of his two handed ax in the skull, knocking the unfortunate man to the ground before bringing his ax down on the man's
neck, taking his head.
Aladale then pulled out the spear from his armor with a grunt and tossed it down into the courtyard, returning to the fray, his armor wrent and broken but otherwise unharmed.
A defender in leather armor and a long halberd stood in his way, but Aladale was faster and brought his ax into the man's arm, forcing him to drop the halberd, before he could deliver the killing blow; however, the man got to his feet and fled, holding his mangled shoulder.
The battle for the first wall went on for some time before the Dornish ordered a retreat back to the second wall, where they mounted another stiff defense with rocks and Tars, but the Ironborn were eventually able to gain a foothold and force them to retreat.
The third wall was the toughest to crack as by now the men that had been tricked into manning the seawall had come to assist in the final stand. Many hundreds of Ironborn were killed and wounded, but eventually they managed to get a foothold on the wall. It was at this stage of the battle that Aladale again faced death, scaling a later when the man in front of him took a throwing spear to the neck, falling from the ladder and almost taking him down with him into the courtyard, which would have likely broken his neck, but Aladale managed to hold on and steady himself.
By nightfall Sunspear had fallen, though some of the defenders managed to escape into the winding streets and ambush the more bold Ironborn that pursued them, but the fight was essentially over at this point, Aladale had no interest in occupying the city, only looting it, and there was much loot.
The Ironborn plundered the Old Palace, taking with them valuable tapestries from Essos, Rhoynar trinkets, and other valuables of silver and gold, though the princess Deria and her household were nowhere to be found, likely fleeing the castle before the siege even began.
By the end of it near 2000 Ironborn were dead or dying, with most of the Dornish Garrison sharing the same fate, being purely overwhelmed by the Ironborns sheer numbers.
In the following days, the surrounding villages, holdfasts, and hamlets would share a similar fate to Sunspear, being looted and captured by the Ironborn. The assault, while costly would mark a huge blow to House Martells ability to resist the Targaryen invasion, and win Aladale Wynch much renown, and infamy for his actions in Dorne.
The air was sweltering hot as the small pole-boat made its way down the Greenblood river, its oars slowly dipping into the murky green water. Occasionally a large splash would be heard, the river was rich in wildlife, with large whiskerfish and birds making the Greenblood their home. They also passed many small farms and orchards, with their inhabitants shyly looking out from these river villages. This region had not been touched by the war but they were still cautious.
Aegon sat at the forefront of the first small ship, looking at the landscape around him.
A beautiful land He thought to himself Land I will be responsible for soon.
The King's silent reflection was interrupted by Ser Garmon Hightower, his Kingsguard who had been uneasily pacing the small ship for the length of their voyage, the young man was determined to catch a glimpse of anything suspicious.
''Your Grace….I ask you once again to reconsider…you need not attend these negotiations personally….the Dornish have an unsavory reputation with this sort of thing, if this peace must be attained through a negotiation, let your Kingsguard face the danger.'' Ser Garmon said, his eyes scanning the horizon.
''It makes a poor King that does not see personally to the end of a war he started Ser….and if I must ask the Princess Deria to guide her people and kneel…I owe it to her to have her kneel before me personally, not a stranger….oaths made to one standing in stead for another are feeble bonds.'' Aegon explained as a bird entered the water beside them with a splash, hunting for food.
''I would ask that you at least consider moving to one of the benches your Grace, you are exposed here at the front, any one of these rock ledges might hide a company of archers or javelineers waiting to ambush us.'' Ser Garmon pressed.
Aegon sighed ''We have taken precautions….I will not hide myself for fear of treachery.''
The King was right on that count, he would not arrive at the negotiations like a beggar and traveled with a retinue that befitted the King, taking ten pole boats, each with at least 10 men not including the crew, most of them knights armored in plate. Aegon had also bowed to Ser Garmons earlier suggestion that he and Rhaenys take separate boats so that if something happened, they both would not be in the same place; Aegon had given his sister's boat into the protection of Corlys and Ser Harold Langward.
Before Garmon could respond, Ser Gregor Goode put a strong arm on his younger companions shoulder ''Come Garmon….we will bow to the Kings wisdom.''
Despite the Knight of Hightowers concerns, the rest of the voyage passed smoothly, with the small island that was to be the location of the peace negotiations coming into view an hour later.
Ser Garmons concerns proved to be even more unfounded when the size of the Martell retinue became clear, the Princess Diaries retinue couldn't have numbered over a dozen men, of which included a gouty knight leaning on a cane.
''That must be her crippled husband.'' Ser Gawen Corbray sneered as their boat approached the sandy island, which stood in stark contrast to the greenwaters around it.
Aegon nodded slowly, over the course of his campaign he had heard of the rather strange husband the young princess had taken as her consort, and Aegon had to admit the man was just as unimpressive in real life as he was in rumor.
The man was pale, having much fairer skin than his lady wife, he had uncut brown hair and a large beard, though not large enough to cover the obvious red splotches of sunburns the man had suffered. He was clearly much older than the young princess, by a factor of almost twenty years if the King had to guess, and he leaned on a walking cane.
What's more, the man was a lowborn, coming from a family of landless hedge knights from the Reach, adding further insult to the Dornish nobles the princess had spurned to marry him since the Dornish and Reachmen were old enemies. Despite the fact the man had sired children on two other Dornish women, it was said the young princess had grown fond of him and taken him as her consort.
The only other individuals of note in Derias retinue were her two younger brothers, Ser Lewyn Martell, the man who had led troops against Corlys at the Battle of Watersmeet as well as Oberyn Martell, a squire. The rest of her men were spearmen, their faces obscured by the cloth that covered their mouths and the top of their heads.
Deria herself did not make for an impressive figure either, she was a rather unassuming woman with olive skin and curly black hair, she wore no crown and was dressed in a simple cloth robe in the fashion of the local fisherwomen.
It had not been a surprise to Aegon when he had received a messenger from Deria, stating her wish to meet and negotiate an end to the fighting. It had been six months since the Ironborn had taken Sunspear by force, and the Martells' position had only grown worse since then.
Not long after Sunspear had fallen, the King's cousin and master of ships Aethen Velaryon had starved the island castle of Ghaston Grey into submission, and the northern coast of Dorne was blockaded by Aethens 45 galleys, the strength of Dragonstone.
Meanwhile near Sunspear, the river city of Plankytown, knowing they would be next to face the Ironborns wrath had declared for Aegon to avoid the looting of their city, contributing some 2000 levies to the war effort though in truth they did little but camp outside their city.
The most damning blow had come at the Battle of Sandgate, the third major engagement of the war, with the others being the Battle of Watersmeet and the Storming of Sunspear. Aegon had wished to avoid more battles following news of the bloodshed at Sunspear and had been content to siege fortresses into submission without the use of Dragonfire until the Dornish surrendered. The Dornish however in their desperation ambushed Aegon's army as he approached the fortress of the Tor.
Unlike the Battle of Watersmeet, in which the Dornish had put up a respectable fight, the same could not be said for this battle, which was born of desperation. By the end of it, some 2100 Dornish lay dead, heavily wounded or captured, compared to only 500 Targaryens.
This battle had been the final straw, and Princess Deria, realizing the futility of further resistance and the poor tactical position the loss of many of their Northern fortresses had put them in decided to sue for peace, inviting Aegon to negotiations on a small island in the middle of the Greenblood River where she had been hiding out after fleeing from Sunspear.
The knights of the Kingsguard exited the boat first, making sure there was no treachery, but the island was small and it soon became clear there were no Dornish lying in wait. Aegon was content to wait, not for fear of treachery but he did not wish to stain his clothing in the murky-green waters of the Greenblood by exiting before the boat was docked.
As the pole-boat hit the sandy shore of the island with a gentle thud, Aegon exited the boat.
If Aegon had expected any sort of defiance from the young princess, these thoughts were immediately alleviated as Deria kneeled in the soft sand, causing her brothers and her men to follow her lead, albeit reluctantly.
''Your Grace.'' The Dornish princess said.
Aegon let them kneel for a moment before gesturing for them to rise.
''My lady…..I am told you are ready to make peace.'' Aegon said.
Deria dusted the sand off of her plain robe ''I have a duty to my people……they have suffered greatly in your war….House Yronwood will be gone within half a century, with no hope of recovering, the women of the village of Olivegrove are saltwives to your Ironborn….and the garrison of Sunspear was slain almost to a man, their blood watering the streets…and thousands of my people burned at Watersmeet and Sandgate, many of them to their death.''
Aegon bristled somewhat at that ''This war is just as much your making as mine my Lady…I gave you a chance to surrender…your people would have been spared much bloodshed if you had.''
Deria made no move to interrupt him.
''What happened to the Yronwoods was a terrible tragedy and not my intention my Lady….as for the actions of the Ironborn…I hope you will understand such is war….when I called my banners they were the only ones to answer the call…..it makes for a poor King who would deprive his vassals of their spoils, no matter how roughly gained….you have my word that I shall see to it that any noblewomen taken as saltwives will be returned.'' Aegon continued.
''I suppose that is all I can ask for.'' Deria said with a nod.
''No.'' A voice from behind them rang out.
Aegon turned and saw his sister Rhaenys approaching them, he knew what she was going to say, he made no move to stop her however, he knew his sisters well enough to know they would always speak their mind.
''Every Dornish woman taken as a salt wife by the Ironborn will be released, not a single one will be taken back to the Isles…on that you have my word Princess.' Rhaenys said, using Derias traditional title, since at least for the next few minutes she still was a princess.
''Rhaenys….we ca.'' Aegon began before his sister shook her head.
''When you outlawed reaving in the seven Kingdoms, you also outlawed the practice of taking salt wives from your lands….once Dorne capitulates, those women will become your subjects just as much as any other.'' Rhaenys said, it was clear she had put quite a bit of thought into her argument.
Aegon grunted at that, in truth he could find no fault with his sister's argument and had to admit that his earlier declaration did apply to the protection of the Dornish women taken by the Ironborn, they would not be happy, but Aegon would see them rewarded in other ways.
The King nodded ''My sister speaks true…..you have my word the Ironborn will return the women taken as saltwives….now let us get to the matter at hand.''
Deria nodded ''My Maester has told me the words.''
The Princess of Dorne knelt on the sand ''I, Deria Martell, Ruler of Dorne do submit both my house and Kingdom to the House Targaryen, both for my lifetime and that of my descendents….and with this I proclaim my vassals fealty as well.''
Aegon nodded ''And I…..Aegon Targaryen….first of my name…King of the Andals, the First men, and the Rhoynar, Lord of the seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm do affirm your houses dominion over Dorne for your lifetime and that of your descendents.''
And with that, on a small island in the middle of the Greenblood, the war was ended Kingdom of Dorne which had been independent since the time of the First Men, was joined with the six other Kingdoms of Westeros, pledging fealty to the Targaryens, thus ending Aegon's conquest.
The war for Dorne had been the bloodiest of Aegon's wars, by the end of the conflict, which had raged on for well over a year and a half, over ten thousand men had been killed and heavily wounded, and unlike the other wars, the Targaryens and their allies suffered significant losses, with some 3500 losses, most at the battle of Watersmeet and the storming of Sunspear.
The Ironborn of course were not pleased with the King's demand to return their claimed salt wives, though in truth they had not taken many as they had only taken one village and city. Their anger was also alleviated by the King rewarding one of their principle leaders. Aladale Wynch, lord of Iron Holt and the man that had led the assault of Sunspear. The King understood that the Ironborns assault of Sunspear had shortened the war by many months and had duly rewarded the man, both in gold and silver and in a far greater honor, Aladales son Dalton Wynch would be fostered in the capitol as the King's own ward, significant for an Ironborn boy from a small house.
One Month Later
Halls of the Aegonfort
''The boy is strong.'' Aegon said, standing over the crib, his hand being grabbed by the babes strong grip.
''Like his lord Father.'' Visenya said, putting a hand on the King's shoulder.
Aegon looked into the crib at his son, the boy was a big baby with the light purple eyes of the Targaryens and a healthy head of silver hair.
''The bloodline is secure.'' Visenya said and Aegon nodded, the boy was not much younger than Nyel, meaning in time the two would be married to preserve their High Valyrian heritage.
Aegon stroked the boys hair ''Vaemond is a strong name….a Kingly name…you chose well.''
Visenya nodded ''He will always be your first born son Aegon….remember that.''
''I would be hard pressed to forget.'' The King said, giving his son one last look before turning to leave.
''Aegon….there is something I have to speak with you about….something that must not leave this room.'' Visenya said, sounding almost nervous, a rarity for his sister which was enough to make Aegon stop immediately.
''It is about Vhagar'' Visenya said after determining that no one, not even any Kinsgguard were in earshot.
''Your Dragon is ill?'' Aegon asked with a frown.
''In part….in truth I blame myself….I have been busy at court and have not flown him in quite some time but…Vhagar has always been prone to laziness….it is worse now, he only sleeps and eats…he…he cannot fly Aegon….I tried a fortnight ago but he could not be controlled and refused….he almost attacked me when I urged him to the sky.'' Visenya said quietly.
''What?'' Aegon said, stunned.
''I had a Maester examine him, he has grown too fat to fly, and the Maester fears this cannot be undone……it is almost as if we have lost him to death, Aegon…gods be good I will never fly again…..my negligence has weakened our house…if the wrong ears hear of this….of our weakened position.'' Visenya said, and with shock the King realized tears were streaming down her face, he had never seen his sister cry before.
Aegon took his sister into his arms ''You are the blood of the Dragon…our son and daughter are as well….. regardless of Vhagars condition this will never change….you are the mother of little Dragons Visenya, the future of our dynasty…..never forget that…..you could never weaken our house.''
''What good is a queen without a Dragon…..Rhaenys should become queen, I have lost that right.'' Visenya said, wiping her tears away and pulling away.
Aegon was silent for a moment before shaking his head ''You are the Queen I choose….now and always.''
''But Rhaenys.'' Visenya began.
''Is not you…'' Aegon said suddenly, the words coming to his mouth before he could think them.
Visenya looked at him in shock.
Aegon nodded slowly, realizing that his choice has been made ''I choose you Visenya.'' He was shocked to hear himself put the thoughts into words but in truth he had been thinking of this moment for months while on campaign, and even when with Rhaenys he found himself thinking of Visenya.
Rhaenys had been his favored sister as a young man, attractive and adventurous, but ever since he took his crown he found himself fraying at both ends, feeling the unspoken tension that Aegon the King needed Visenya more than Aegon of Dragonstone loved Rhaenys.
''What will you tell Rhaenys?'' Visenya asked.
''Nothing….I will not set her aside…I will not shame her Visenya, and in time she may bear me children….but I swear this….our son shall inherit the throne….Vaemond and Nyel shall rule what we have created…..I choose you….and them.'' Aegon said, the words pouring out faster than he could think of them.
Visenya nodded slowly.
''Aegon…..I will never ride again…..I will have no Dragon to give our children.'' Visenya said.
The King was silent for a moment before a small grin broke out onto his face ''Well….I can think of one Dragon you can ride.''
Visenya stood in shocked silence for a moment before suddenly slapping Aegon across the face, he recoiled but before he could respond Visenya suddenly broke out into laughter, the first time he had heard his sister laugh like that since they were children, Aegon joined in the laughter as well before the two passionately embraced.
Visenya would announce soon after to the King and all his court that she was pregnant with their third child, thus ensuring the House Targaryens bloodline was secure.
-As always, likes and comments are appreciated, especially comments as they help share the story with others
Chapter 11: The River Gate (Matarys, Vaemond, Balman Hayford)
Matarys Targaryen ran through the timber halls of the Aegonfort, with all the speed his four year old legs could muster.
''Hurry Matarys, he's getting away.'' Lucas said, gesturing down the hall.
The little prince nodded and increased his speed, Ser Whiskers would not evade him for long.
Matarys caught a glimpse of the cat's white fur as it rounded a corner, and with a gleeful laugh the little prince followed, he had never been this far within the keep, which contained many storerooms, kitchens, and servants quarters, the perfect place for hiding.
He rounded the corner and saw Ser Whiskers sitting against a corner, licking one of his paws.
Follow me The cats wide yellow eyes seemed so call out This way
Matarys took a step forward, and then suddenly, the cat seemed to disappear into the ground.
Matarys looked around in bewilderment, they had reached a back wall of the keep and there were no further rooms where Ser Whiskers could have fled.
The young prince's pondering was interrupted by Lucas.
''Matarys look over here.'' The older boy said.
The little prince shuffled forward uncertainly, suddenly tired from his chase but then he saw it.
In the corner was an empty square hole in the floor with a small wooden set of stairs leading down, cobwebs visible, it had not been visible from where he had been standing.
''It's dark down there…and it feels cold'' Matarys said, kneeling and peering into the cellar, he could see nothing past the first few steps and even peering down sent a chill down his spine.
''We can't leave Ser Whiskers down there…don't you want to help him?'' Lucas asked.
Matarys nodded at that, he couldn't leave Ser Whiskers down there in the cold dark place.
''I'll wait up here and keep watch….if any of the guards see you going down there they will bring you to your father and he wont let us play back here again.'' Lucas said.
''Ok.'' Matarys said and, after mustering his courage, slowly made his way down the rickety wooden steps, the cold hitting him and causing him to cross his arms as he slowly made his way down into the dark.
''Ser Whiskers.'' The little prince called out meekly.
Ser Whiskers did not respond.
The prince called out again, and suddenly the stairs were no more and he tripped onto the dirt floor.
Matarys dusted himself off and stood up, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.
Around him were several barrels and casks, many with cobwebs on them.
As Matarys scanned the room, he saw a pair of bright yellow eyes in the dark, giving him a jolt of fear.
The eyes were no monster at all, but Ser Whiskers, who appeared from the dark behind a barrel, giving a small meow You found me its eyes seemed to say.
Matarys giggled and ran forward, scooping up the cat in his arms and petting it.
Suddenly there was a large crash and the room was bathed in darkness, Matarys let out a cry of fear and huddled on the ground, Ser Whiskers in his arms.
''The hatch fell…its stuck I cant get it open.'' Lucas said, his voice coming in muffled from above.
''I'll go for help.'' Lucas continued
''Heeeelp……Save me!.'' Matarys cried out, again and again till his voice began to grow sore.
Ser Whiskers joined in with an annoyed meow.
Finally, the opening to the hatch began to move, and slowly light returned to the cellar.
Matarys gratefully walked forward, Ser Whiskers in his arms, as he reached the bottom of the stairs and prepared to thank his rescuers, he looked up and paused with dismay.
''Oh….'' The little prince muttered .
Instead of Lucas or one of his fathers guards, it was Dalton Wynch, his fathers squire, behind him stood his big brother Vaemond.
''Cellars are for rats….are you a little rat?'' Dalton snorted, the boy was 10 years old with long orange hair, green eyes and mean, a cruel sneer sat upon his face.
''N..no.'' Matarys said, his relief at being rescued fading as he was faced with the bully of the castle.
''What were you doing down there, Matarys.'' His big brother Vaemond asked with a sigh, despite only being seven years old, he was just as tall as Dalton.
''Well…..Ser Whiskers ran away from my room so Lucas and I went to go get him and he ran into the ground and I went in to go get him and Lucas said he was going to get help and the hatch fell down….I saw some scary eyes but it wasn't a monster, only Ser Whiskers.'' The little Prince prattled on nervously.
''Lucas?'' The Ironborn boy asked with confusion.
''His imaginary friend.'' Vaemond replied.
Matarys stomped a foot down ''He's not 'magninary…hes real and he's a knight and he has black hair.''
Dalton started laughing at that, and Vaemond joined in uncertainly.
Matarys felt exhausted, the running and yelling had taken their toll on him, he stepped forward, ''I'm tired, i'm going to sleep and have the servants get hot milk for Ser Whiskers.''
Dalton stepped forward, blocking his path ''I didnt even notice your cat…..the last thing it needs is hot milk…look how fat it is…I bet it can't even catch rats.''
''Ser Whiskers doesnt like killing things…he likes hot milk and apple cakes….'' Matarys protested ''He could catch them if he wanted to though.''
''Ser Whiskers is a stupid name…and cats are for little girls….my hound would tear this fat cat into pieces…..I bet its so fat it cant even feel if I poke it.'' Dalton said with a laugh and before Matarys could stop him he jabbed a finger into Ser Whiskers belly, causing the poor creature to meow in pain and fall out of Matarys arms onto the ground. Dalton then started kicking the cat, laughing.
''You leave Ser Whiskers alone.'' Matarys screeched and ran forward heroically, attempting to grab the Ironborn boy's arm, but the older boy shoved him to the ground with a hard push.
Matarys crawled to Ser Whiskers, putting his body over the cats and curling into a ball, sheltering the cat while Dalton laughed, blows from his kicks landing all over the prince.
''Vaemond help me.'' Matarys pleaded, but Vaemond stood back with his arms crossed, an uncertain look on his face and he made no move to interfere against his fellow ward.
Matarys then began yelling for Lucas, but his friend was nowhere to be found.
After what seemed like hours but was likely only a minute or two, the kicking stopped when a servant approached to investigate the noise.
''We were just playing.'' Dalton said when the servant questioned, his evil sneer transforming into an easygoing grin as it did so often around adults, he was good at fooling them.
Dalton then left, Vaemond hesitated and walked towards his little brother.
''You shouldn't have tried to stop him….you're littler than him'' Vaemond said awkwardly as Matarys slowly got to his feet, dusting himself off and holding Ser Whiskers in his arms, battered but alive.
Matarys sniffled ''I'm going to the kitchens to get Ser Whiskers some hot milk…and then i'll take him to the Grandmaester Arlan…his legs all messed up.''
The little prince then hobbled pitifully down the hall to tend to his cat.
A Few Hours Later
Vaemonds Bedchambers
Vaemond stood in the middle of his room, wooden sword in hand emulating what he had seen Lord Rosby, the Aegonforts Master-at-Arms teach Dalton. He was not old enough yet to participate in arms, and instead could only run through solo drills.
It's not fair…I'm just as big as Dalton Vaemond thought.
Suddenly there was a knock at his door.
Vaemond frowned and placed his sword on his bed, walking over to the door.
''Who is it?'' He asked, he didn't remember asking the servants for anything.
''Lord Commander Corlys….open the door my prince.'' the familiar voice from the other end responded.
Vaemond opened the door excitedly, he looked up to the Lord Commander, who was everything a perfect Knight should be, one day he was going to be like his distant cousin.
''Did my father send you to train me…i'm ready.'' Vaemond said with excitement to the Lord Commander, who looked magnificent in his white armor and cloak.
Corlys shook his head ''Not today my prince….im to take you to your Lord father….he wants a word.''
''What does he want to talk about?'' Vaemond asked.
''I believe it had to do with your little brother.'' The Lord Commander said curtly and they walked the rest of the way in silence.
As they reached the door to his fathers solar, the Lord Commander stopped ''This is where I leave you…your fathers waiting inside.''
Vaemond nodded and opened the heavy oak door.
His father was standing over his fine desk, his arms crossed, a fire burned in the hearth nearby and the fading rays of the afternoon sun shone through the red and black glass of the dragon shaped window, casting a rather ominous light in the solar.
''You wanted to see me father?'' Vaemond asked.
''I did Vaemond, have a seat.'' the King said, gesturing to a leather seated chair in front of his fathers desk, his father took a seat as well.
''Some time earlier Grandmaester Arlan came to see me, he told me that your little brother wandered in his chambers, bruised and tired, carrying that cat of his, which had a broken leg.'' Aegon began,
Vaemond looked at the floor, he understood why his father wanted to see him now.
''I went to Matarys's chambers and he soon told me the truth of the matter…..I know about the business with you and Dalton Wynch.'' Aegon said sternly.
''It was Dalton not me.'' Vaemond protested.
''No.'' His father said harshly, suddenly rising from his seat, towering over the prince.
''But I did nothing.'' Vaemond exclaimed.
''Exactly….and that is why you are to blame for what happened….you sat back and allowed a boy near twice your brother's age…a boy trained at arms to beat your brother black and blue…while you did….nothing.'' The King said, raising an accusing finger at his son.
Vaemond looked at the ground, ashamed.
His father sighed and paced over to the fire.
''Come here Vae.'' He said, his tone gentler, and Vaemond got up from the chair and joined his father in front of the hearth.
''Family is the most important thing we have son….I could not have taken the Kingdoms without my sisters….I rely upon them, as you will with Nyel and Matarys….one day you shall lead our family…and a King cannot expect to rule a family, much less a Kingdom if he doesn't stand up and defend them in their hour of need.'' Aegon said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.
''I understand father.'' Vaemond said, suddenly disgusted in himself, he had sat back and done nothing while his brother was beaten right in front of him.
''What about Dalton?'' Vaemond asked, suddenly angry at his fellow ward, he had always strove to be accepted by the older boy, but now he was angry at him.
Aegon sighed ''Your mother wanted him sent back to the Isles…but I told his father I would raise him as my own ward until he is a man grown….it may be too late to save him but I will do what I can….I had him disciplined severely with the rod….he will make for a good killer but I fear not much else.''
The King turned to his son ''Now I want you to apologize to your brother….spend time with him….you may not have much of a chance later.''
''What do you mean?'' the Prince asked.
Before his father could respond, there was a knock at the door.
''Balman Hayford here to see you your grace.'' Corlys Velaryons said from the other side of the door.
''We will talk later Vae….now go and see your brother….he is resting in his chambers.'' Aegon said, giving his son a gentle push before ordering Corlys to send in the new spymaster.
Midnight
Streets of Kings Landing
Lord Balman Hayford made his way through the dark streets of Kings Landing, the occasional torch and the light of the moon being his only source of light.
He was on his way to speak with Brynden Tully, Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks. In the years since his appointment, the man had ousted every other Gate Commander, with Rickard Tyrell being sent away earlier that year, leaving him as commander of all seven city gates, Jon Darklyn still held control over the city districts but Tully had solidified his position as one of the most powerful men in the city.
In recent months, however, Harlan Tyrell, who kept a closer eye on the gold cloaks after his brothers ousting, noted some discrepancies in the amounts of toll money they were collecting, with profits from the River Gate being much less than the other gates.
He had spoken a quiet word to the King who had met with and ordered Balman Hayford, who had only been serving in the position of spymaster for a short time to investigate earlier that day.
Normally Balman would not bestirr himself to personally investigate a matter, especially at this time of night, and he would have preferred to send one of his spies, but an investigation such as this required subtlety and tact that only a lord such as him had.
He made his way through the streets,his face hooded and keeping to the shadows, he had no doubt he could handle any rabble that accosted him as he wore a sword on his hip but nonetheless it would be for the best if he was not seen.
As he got closer to the River Gate, the smell of fish hit him, despite the markets being deserted. He wrinkled his nose and quickened his pace, the sooner he reached the gate the better.
With his pace quickened, he soon reached the River Gate. The walls were not particularly impressive, mostly being made of timber with some areas reinforced with stone, a few gold cloaks patrolled the walls, their golden dyed cloaks easily betraying their position in the darkness of the night.
The barracks were not particularly impressive either, being a two story timber longhall with a heavy iron door.
Lord Hayford made his way to the door and loudly knocked on it several times, he heard the sounds of rustling from inside, no doubt he had woken most of the sleeping gold cloaks.
''Th'fuck do you want…the watch doesnt change for two hours'' A groggy voice said harshly from the other end of the door, his voice dripping with annoyance.
''Lord Balman Hayford…..open the door….now.'' Balman commanded, he was in no mood for arguing.
The heavy Iron door opened and a man in a leather jerkin with a hastily donned golden cloak stood inside, a sheepish look on his face.
'' Apologies my lord……we did not receive word of your visit….have you an escort, tis dangerous to be walking the streets at night alone.'' The man said, trying not so subtly to rub some crumbs from his beard.
Balman ignored the man's questions ''I am here to see Commander Tully….rouse him.''
''Apologies my lord but he is not here, he makes his headquarters at the Dragon Gate.'' The man said, standing there in silence as Balman glared at him.
''My lord?'' The man asked with confusion.
''Then go….get….him.'' Balman said, his voice dripping with venom.
The gold cloak realized it was probably in his best interests to not annoy the Lord any longer and commanded half a dozen gold cloaks to ride and fetch the Commander of the Gold Cloaks.
Lord Balman cleared the upper level of the barracks, forcing the tired gold cloaks to find other resting areas.
He sat down at an empty table.
''A cup of hot wine…..and some buttered bread'' He commanded a Gold Cloak, who sullenly nodded and went to obey, uttering a curse once he was out of the lord's hearing.
It took nearly half an hour for the gold cloaks to arrive with Brunden Tully, a man with a receding hairline and a thick orange mustache.
''Lord Balman….perhaps you do things differently in Hayford but it is considered rude to rouse a man in the dead of night…I hope you have woken me for some good reason.'' Brynden Tully said curtly.
''Have a seat Commander.'' Balman commanded, gesturing to a chair.
Brynden Tully stood motionless, his face red, it was clear he was not a man used to taking commands, but nonetheless he took a seat.
''I wont mince words commander….I have been charged with investigating discrepancies in the tariffs collected by your men at the River Gate….it is significantly less than the other gates….despite being one of the busiest.'' Balman said, taking a sip of the hot wine, which was a poor vintage to his anger.
''I have just recently taken command of this gate from Rickard Tyrell…..perhaps his bookkeepers were poorly appointed.'' Brynden offered.
Balman gave a small smile and shook his head ''I think not commander…..the profits were much higher when Rickard Tyrell commanded the gate….immediately when you took control they lessened significantly.''
Brynden bristled at that ''What are you implying?''
''You know exactly what I am implying…and if you do not you are a greater fool than I imagined…an impressive feat…..you are embezzling and stealing funds from our good King.'' Balman said with a curt smile.
''I don't know what youre talking about…and you would do well to watch your words.'' Brynden replied, the red returning to his face.
''A threat?'' Balman asked.
''A warning.'' Brynden responded.
''How thoughtful of you….allow me to return the favor….I am going to take a look at your books…and if I find one dragon unaccounted for…..I swear I shall have your head on a spike….it would give me great pleasure to put it there myself commander.'' Balman responded before continuing ''I want all your books delivered here…now.''
''No…..you don't give commands of me.'' Brynden said, a slight pale coloration visible in his face.
''Perhaps not….but the King does….I shall go and get him then.'' Balman said rising, causing Brynden to do the same.
''Lord Balman……I..Its possible some coin has been unaccounted for.'' Brynden said slowly.
''You admit to stealing from our King then.'' Balman replied with a smile.
''I…I have three sons and a daughter…all three will be expecting Knighthoods…and my daughter will need an education…..I did it for my family…you can understand that…there's no need to tell the King…you have my word it will stop…i've led the city watch well'' Brynden said, almost pleadingly.
''And you have my word your head shall adorn the gates of King's Landing before you see another sunset.'' Balman said he had all the proof he needed, so he made his way to leave.
Brynden placed himself in front of him ''We can talk about this.''
Balman shook his head ''No….we can't…get out of my way.''
When Brynden did not move he shoved the commander out of the way and continued towards the stairs, Brynden grabbed his arm.
Balman turned to free his hand, it was the last thing he did.
As he turned, he saw Bryndens sword, unsheathed, in the middle of a deadly arc towards him.
Balman could scarcely gasp as the blade made its way towards him, he moved his head at the last moment but not fast enough to prevent the blade from taking his ear.
He screamed and fell to the ground. Bryndens blows were desperate and furious, Balman recoiled as his leg was slashed, curling into a ball trying to raise his hands to stop the strikes, at last the final blow came, Brynden raised his sword in the air and drove it down on Balmans chest just under his neck, going clean through and pinning him to the ground, killing him instantly.
Two days later, Balmans body would be recovered on the dockside of Fishmongers Square by one of the Braavosi merchants, covered in stab wounds and scant recognizable.
Brynden Tully would address the small council and attribute the killing to a robbery gone wrong, the lord's jewelry had gone missing after all.
King Aegon had his suspicions, but had no proof to formally accuse the commander of the city watch, and following this the profits of the River Gate returned to normal.
Chapter 12: The Tourney of Kings Landing (Nyel, Aegon, Rhaenys) (Part 1)
Fourth Moon, 8009 Fields Outside of King's Landing
Nyel Targaryen sat at the royal stage, waiting for the final day of the grand tournament to start, the field had been cleared of debris and the lazy rays of the morning sun promised that the day would be a hot one.
She had arrived back at the tourney grounds as soon as her father had permitted her early that morning, riding outside the city of Kings Landing with Ser Corlys Velaryon as her escort.
The Tourney had been ordered by her father to commemorate the 10th anniversary of his coronation at Oldtown, and he had spared no expense. It was a truly magnificent affair in which nobles, knights, hedge knights, and free riders from every corner of the realm had been invited. The proceedings had gone on for six days, with the jousts lasting from morning until dusk.
Following each day of jousting, they broke their fast on a magnificent feast with dozens of courses, though her Aunt Rhaenys always made sure to give what was left over to the small folk of the city.
The first few days of the tourney had been exhilarating and the princess had watched every tilt she had been able to, not even retiring back to her tent when the jousts contained only freeriders and minor knights.
''Any luck with the egg princess?'' The voice of the Lord Commander rang out beside her, she had been so engrossed in watching the tourney grounds being prepared she had forgotten he was standing beside her.
She looked down at her egg, its red scales shining in the morning son while the small white spots glittered like diamonds. She found herself not for the first time admiring how beautiful it was.
''No change Ser.'' Nyel answered the Lord Commander, who looked even more pale than normal, his face quite haggard looking even when factoring in the white of his hair, armor, and cloak.
Her egg had been one of two that had hatched within the last two years to the Targaryens, this one had been her mothers Dragon Vhagars, who had made a miraculous recovery from its obesity after laying the egg, even returning to flying. Her mother had given her the egg as she was older than her brother Vaemond. Another egg had been laid by her Aunt Rhaenys dragon Meraxes, though she had not given it away yet.
''Be patient princess….it can take years to hatch…but if you keep it close to you than I've no doubt it will.'' Corlys said with a tired smile, from what Nyel knew he was one of the best knights in the Kingdoms but he had not advanced far in the lists, something he attributed to some sort of illness.
''Who do you think will win the day Ser?'' Nyel asked courteously.
Corlys ran a hand through his silver beard ''Your fathers hand Orys sits a horse well….and he is a hard man to knock down.''
Nyel nodded, she was well acquainted with her fathers hand, whom she had once overheard her father refer to as his brother, as for his chances of winning the tourney Nyel thought they were good, he was tall and broad shouldered and had preformed well thus far, dismounting several young skilled knights from the Reach, hailing from the Houses Edgerton, Orme and Shermer, as well as a Redwyne.
''Nestor Royce, Lord of Runestone has served as master-at-arms in the Eyrie for a decade and is renowned as one of the finest knights in the realm, no doubt you have witnessed his prowess.'' Corlys continued.
Nyel nodded, Lord Royce made an imposing figure in the lists, armored head to toe in bronze plate with runes of the first men etched into them, the man was tall as well and had used his strength to his advantage, winning many victories in the tourney but never requiring those he beat to ransom their arms and armor.
''His armor is magnificent.'' Nyel offered.
''Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention my sworn brother Ser Gregor Goode….he has ridden well this tourney and outlasted all of us…he dismounted Lord Fossoway if you recall, as well as that old hedge knight that made it to the fourth day.'' Corlys finished, over the six days, the Kingsguard had fallen one by one, though not without winning their share of renown, however only Ser Gregor Goode, the large but quiet bear of a Kingsguard remained on the final day.
''Gallant knights all, but you have not truly given me an answer, Lord Commander.'' Nyel teased politely, causing her distant relative who let out a tired yet hearty laugh.
''Nor will I princess…..on foot fights are much more predictable, but jousts rely as much on luck as they do skill, the direction of the sun and wind, the condition of the horse….but if I had to guess I would imagine it comes down to Orys and Lord Royce.'' He responded.
''What of Ser Harwood Fisher….the northman?'' Nyel asked with curiosity, Harwood Fisher was a young northman and one of the biggest surprises of the tourney. The young man hailed from a poor house that ruled over the region of the stony shore in the North, hardly a bastion of chivalry.
Nevertheless the young northman had acquitted himself well, making it to the final day while dismounting several notable opponents, including a young knight from the Kingswood.
''You favor him?'' Corlys asked.
Nyel nodded ''His house is not so great as the others in attendance, but he rides well, none gave him a chance to make it this far.
Corlys frowned ''The lad rides well for a northman to be sure….but he is no knight, and he has a vulgar tongue from what I have heard….I would suggest giving your favor to another more worthy princess.''
At this point, the tourney grounds had grown busy with activity as noble spectators and those defeated in earlier rounds streamed towards their seats on the sides of the tourney grounds, Nyel spotted her father, mother and aunt, riding with the knights of the Kingsguard and her two younger brothers in tow.
''I see your father has arrived, pray excuse me princess, I should wish Ser Gregor good fortune in today's bouts.'' Corlys said, bowing his head, excusing himself.
Her family took their seats around her on the royal pavilion, which was covered by a magnificent silk cover of black and red, adorned in her house's sigil.
Her mother put a hand on her shoulder ''You and that egg are inseparable.''
Nyel nodded ''The Lord Commander said the more time you spend with an egg the faster it will hatch.''
Visenya gave a small smile, taking a seat ''It will hatch on its own time Nyel…don't fear.''
Vaemond turned to their youngest brother Matarys, who did not seem thrilled to be there, it was his first day back watching the tournament since the very first day.
''You have to represent our house better than you did on the first day Matarys….people are watching us and if you cry again they will think you weak.'' Vaemond said bluntly as was his habit. The last few months her brother had been going through a phase where he said everything that was on his mind, honest to a fault.
He was referring to the incident on the first day. The tourney had not been all good as in one of the opening jousts, Lord Commander Brynden Tully of the Goldcloaks had taken a lance to the leg that sent him from his horse, shattering it in a sea of wooden splinters, blood, and bone, Matarys, despite being six years old had begun to weep at the sight.
Luckily for the commander, Grandmaester Arlan had been present for this exact circumstance and he managed to save the man's life but his leg was beyond repair and was amputated.
Matarys nodded quietly ''I'll try Vaemond.''
The first bout of the day featured the aforementioned Harwood Fisher who was seated upon a gray warhorse. His house was a poor one so his armor looked rather unimpressive, heavy boiled leather with gray chainmail over it. He had made use of some of the ransoms of knights he had dismounted and bought a fine wolfskin cloak with silver pendant, his helmet was an Iron nasal helm, freshly forged.
His opponent would be of more noble stock. He was a shorter stockier man with windblown blonde hair and stubble, his piercing blue eyes staring at the crowd. His arms were massive, evident even under his plate armor, which was newly polished. After both jousters had bowed to the King, the man put on a heavy metal helm with long white horns in the shape of a bull, their pearl inlay glistening in the sun.
Nyel recognized his helmet but could not remember his name, Grandmaester Arlan who shared the podium with them seemed to sense her confusion.
''Humphrey Bulwer….lord of Blackcrown in the Reach, descendent of Bors the Breaker, who was said to only quench his thirst on bulls blood….hence the horns.'' Arlan explained and Nyel courteously thanked him.
Her father stood and after letting the excitement in the crowd reach its peak, gestured for the joust to begin.
Both men were given long lances by squires and after saluting the King, rode to their end of the tourney grounds.
With the blast of a trumpet the two riders thundered towards each other kicking up dust, while the crowd roared its approval.
Harwoods pass was poor, his new helmet was clearly bothering him and he struggled to keep his lance steady, the Lord of Blackcrowns aim was better, but the northman managed to get his shield up, sending wood splinters flying everywhere.
The two rode to the end of the wooden tilt and were given fresh lances and in Harwoods case, a new shield, with the sounding of the trumpet the two rode at eachother again.
Neither rider controlled their horse particularly well, they had both changed their horses out due to the fatigue six days of jousting had put on their main mounts.
Nonetheless, Lord Bulwer managed to keep his lance steady, in contrast to Harwood who realized he wouldn't get a good strike in this tilt and attempted to raise his shield again. It was all for naught as the Reachmans aim was true and his lance struck the northman in the center of the chest, sending him flying to the dirt.
A gasp went through the crowd as it did whenever a man took a hard fall, but to their relief, the northman managed to get up with the help of attendants, loudly cursing.
The seating section where the nobility and riders of the Reach had congregated went up in a raucous roar, as the lone Reachman remaining, Lord Bulwer, had represented their Kingdom well.
Ser Corlys had a hint of a smile on his face ''See…..he was no true Knight princess.''
The next tilt had been Ser Gregor Goode of the Kingsguard, armored in magnificent white enamel armor against Lord Nestor the Gallant of House Royce, Lord of Runestone armored head to toe in engraved bronze plate.
This joust went on much longer than the previous one, and after five tilts Ser Gregor was eventually unhorsed, though Lord Royce dispensed with the need for Ser Gregor to ransom his horse and equipment, as he had done the entire tourney and as Lord Humphrey had done with Harwood Fisher.
The next joust was one that the crowd had been clamoring for the length of the tourney, Orys Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Lord Nestor Royce, the winner would face Lord Bulwer in the final joust.
Orys looked magnificent, wearing black plate armor with the stag of his adopted house inlaid in gold, he wore a heavy cloak of shimmering golden silk and an impressive helmet, which was similar to Lord Humphrey Bulwers helmet though in place of bulls horns he had long stag horns of gold on each side.
Nyels aunt Rhaenys leaned over to say something to her but the roar of the crowd made it so that she heard none of it.
Her father let the crowd go on for quite some time before gesturing for both participants to take their positions, and both slowly made their way to their sides, the crowd clamoring as the tension built.
The sun was in full heat today, and Nyel reached for a glass of iced milk, drinking quickly so as to not miss any of the action.
The trumpets gave out their familiar song and the two large knights, made even taller by their massive warhorses charged each other.
Since both lords were armored in heavy plate, it took them longer to reach each other than other jousters did, and it seemed to Nyel that the very ground itself was shaking under the thundering of hooves.
Both men lowered their heavy lances well ahead of time and prepared themselves for the coming collision.
Suddenly Nyel sensed a nervous energy on the royal pavilion, time seeming to slow down, she saw her father stand up, and heard him mention something about the sun, whose rays had rapidly changed position. She turned and saw why her father was concerned. The blinding light of the sun was clearly centered directly in the direction of Orys, whose helmet was covered in sunlight to the point it hurt Nyels eyes to look at him.
Orys was clearly bothered by it as well, struggling to keep his lance steady and his horse straight, and then just before the collision, he made his biggest mistake. He leaned to the left to regain his balance, likely not knowing how close he was to the collision, at this point there was nothing Lord Royce could do as Orys leaned directly into his lance save try and move it to the side.
The lance struck the Lord of the Stormlands in the side of the helm, shattering one of the gold antlers on the side of the helm and turning it inwards, and sending bits of plate chips flying everywhere.
Orys fell from his horse and landed on the dirt with a roar of pain, and with horror, Nyel realized one of the golden stag antlers had bent inwards and pierced his eyes, stuck between his face and the plate. Nyel couldn't see his face but she saw the red blood pouring from the helmet, mixing with the dirt and the dust and the broken plate into a horrible stew. Matarys, his earlier promise forgotten, began weeping.
The royal pavilion, like much of the audience had erupted into chaos, her father stood, trying to remain composed, ordering Grandmaester Arlan to see to Orys's wounds, her mother was comforting Matarys and her aunt had disappeared to help the Grandmaester.
Aegon made his way back to the royal pavilion, Rhaenys, Vaemond and Nyel in tow, Visenya had taken Matarys back to the Aegonfort as he was too distraught to continue. The crowds had returned as well but the mood was much more somber and reserved than before.
They had moved an unconscious Orys to a nearby tent, a difficult task as it took several men to carry Orys, already a large man, in his plate armor. Grandmaester Arlan had managed to remove the helm and inspect the damage, Orys's eye was completely destroyed, with chips of the ornamental golden antlers and the plate armor still embedded in his eye.
Arlan had removed the antler fragments as well as most of the chips of plate, when Aegon had asked if Orys would live, the maester nodded and said the shock would have killed most men but he was past the worst of the danger now, though he obviously would lose what little remained of his eye.
At this point, Nestor Royce had ran in, half armored and clearly devastated. He had offered his apologies and stated that this had not been his intention.
Aegon harbored no ill will to the Lord of Runestone, it was clear to anyone in attendance the tragedy was born of poor luck and chance, Orys had been blinded by a sudden change in the brightness and had not been able to recover, there had been no dishonor or malice on Nestors part.
Orys at this point had somehow overcome the numbing effect of the milk of the poppy and woken up, he managed to mumble to Lord Royce that he wouldn't have it said Orys Baratheon lost to the runner-up of the tourney and the only thing he could do now was to win the damn thing, Orys then promptly fell back into unconsciousness.
Once Aegon was ensured that Orys was about as fine as one might expect after losing an eye, he ordered the tourney to continue with the final joust, Lord Royce against Lord Bulwer.
It had taken 3 tilts for a winner to emerge, when Lord Nestor Royce managed a hit on Lord Bulwer that sent him flying, the crowd gasped as it was a heavy fall, but the stocky Lord Bulwer had managed to get to his feet, the seating section dedicated to those from the Vale erupted in a huge cheer that went on for several minutes.
Lord Royce had given his lady wife, Nynia Tollet the honor of being the Queen of love and beauty, a rather unremarkable woman with sad eyes and a bun of orange hair.
Aegon then stood in front of the two men, dismounted by now and facing the royal pavilion.
''Lord Bulwer…..step forward my lord.'' The stocky knight stepped forward, looking more like a blacksmith than a knight without his plate armor.
''You have represented both the Reach and your House well….hundreds of riders participated in the tourney, and to be the runner-up is a great accomplishment.'' The King began.
''It would have been a greater honor to win the tourney, but you honor me your words your grace.'' Humphrey Bulwer said.
''I am told you have a son, Lord Bulwer?'' Aegon continued.
The Lord of Blackcrown nodded ''A boy of one your grace.''
''In addition to the runners-up purse, if you wish when the boy comes of age, I shall have him fostered here at the capitol, he shall serve as a page and then squire to Corlys Velaryon, Lord Commander of my Kingsguard.'' Aegon said.
''I would be honored to accept your Grace…I shall see to it on his 5th nameday.'' Lord Bulwer said, stepping back.
''Lord Royce….approach.'' Aegon commanded and the Lord of Runestone obeyed, taking a knee.
''Your Grace.''
''Rise my lord……hundreds of riders took the field over the past week, and yet you alone remain….I name you champion, you do your house a great honor with your accomplishment.'' Aegon began.
''The honor of participating is reward enough for me your Grace.'' Lord Royce said humbly.
''You shall be rewarded beyond just that Lord Royce….I grant you the greatest honor I can bestow upon you…..your youngest daughter will be betrothed to my second son Matarys…..your grandchildren will be niece and nephew to the future King.'' Aegon began.
Lord Royce looked shocked but nodded his assent ''You honor my house your grace….I pray Demerei proves a worthy match.''
''Furthermore, I will send my son Matarys to Runestone to be your ward….you have proven your merit and temperament today….I would not entrust my son to any victor, but you have proven your worthiness…I shall have him sent within the fortnight.'' Aegon said, he noticed Visenya's eyes filled with surprise and a thinly concealed glare.
''I am unworthy of this Honor your grace….to raise a prince…'' Nestor the Gallant began but Aegon smiled.
''Yet it is an honor you will take all the same my lord.'' The King said and Nestor nodded.
Later that Evening
The King sat at his solar looking at the scroll Harlan Tyrell, his master of coin, had left with him, detailing the expenses of the tourney.
It had been a costly affair, with the King even borrowing money from the Iron Bank in Braavos, something he was loathe to do but necessary for the tourney to be held, since much of the treasury had been spent on further improvements to both the city walls and the red keep, the noise of both projects being heard clearly all the way in the Kings solar.
The debt will be repaid in two years time Aegon thought to himself, well ahead of the 5 year contract he had promised to repay the bank with.
''My queen…the King left orders not to be disturb….'' The voice of Ser Garmon Hightower said on the other end of the door, but the door to his solar came flying open, his sister Visenya standing in the doorway, Ser Garmon protesting behind her.
''Leave us Ser.'' Aegon nodded to Ser Garmon, who bowed and withdrew.
''You wish to send our son away…and you dont breathe a word of it to me ahead of time.'' Visenya said, her voice cold with anger.
''Visenya…I did not know who would win the tourney, I would not have sent him to anyone….Orys and Lord Royce were the two I was considering…If it had been a winner I was not familiar with I would not have.'' Aegon began.
''He is our son..and…and he is touched. You know that, he should remain here with his family, not alone with people that do not understand his mind.'' Visenya said with venom, by this point they knew that their son Matarys was what they called ''touched'', a common condition for the Targaryens.
''Visenya…..leaving the capitol is exactly what he needs.''
''Explain yourself.'' His sister commanded.
''Our son is a sweet boy….but I fear we have enabled him, it was one thing when he played with kittens and imaginary friends as a boy of four, but he is six now, with no signs of changing…perhaps leaving the comfort of home is what he needs, he will not be a child forever.'' Aegon said.
''We can help him……you don't need to send him away.'' Visenya said, almost pleadingly at this point.
''Lord Royce is a kind hearted man, much like our son, but he is also a formidable warrior….he can teach our son the balance between the two…and Matarys should meet his betrothed, let them grow up together and the girl will understand his mind and learn to deal with it.'' Aegon said gently.
Visenya nodded slowly ''Damn you Aegon….Damn you…..but you speak truly…..at least give him a few more days of childhood before he is shipped off.''
Aegon nodded ''He will have a fortnight to say his goodbyes.''
Two Weeks Later
Docks of Kings Landing
Rhaenys made her way to the docks with the rest of her family, light rain drizzling down.
It had been pitiful to watch Matarys the last few days, he had made rounds of the castle saying goodbye to quite literally everyone, members of the council, guards, servants, even saying farewell to servants he had never met.
Rhaenys had no children of her own, she was not a religious woman but she even grown so desperate to pray to the seven on some nights while others she prayed to the old gods of Valyria, but they had not seen fit to answer her prayers.
With the absence of children on her own, she had done her best to help raise her sisters children, reading poems and singing them songs as young children, Nyel and Vaemond had long since grown out of it, but little Matarys still enjoyed those nights spent together, and she always humored his insistence that his imaginary friends be allowed to listen to the stories as well.
It's not right to send him away Rhaenys thought to herself, Nyel and Vaemond would have done well at another court, Nyel was courteous and gregarious, while Vaemond made for a fine squire, but Matarys was a gentle boy and would likely struggle at a court hundreds of miles away from his family.
''Can I bring Ser Whiskers with me?'' Matarys asked as they slowly made their way to the ship.
'A ship is no place for a cat Matarys besides you are going to the Eyrie, how do you think you will get him up there?'' Aegon said, Lord Royce was master at arms of the Vale and spent his time at the Eyrie and its wasycastles, though Matarys would split his time between Runestone with his betrothed and the Eyrie with Lord Nestor.
''I hear they have a basket they bring food up in, Ser Whiskers would probably be very scared to be put in there, best he stays here.'' Rhaenys said gently.
''What will happen to him, you wont let Dalton go near him right?'' Matarys asked anxiously.
''Ill look after him.'' Nyel said with a smile, putting a hand on her little brother's shoulder.
They soon reached the end of the dock where a small rowboat was waiting to take the young prince to the galley that would take him to Gulltown, where he would then be escorted to Runestone for a feast and then make his way to the Eyrie.
Rhaenys watched as her brother and sister embraced their son, her brother instructing Matarys on the proper way to greet his escort and what to say when he arrived to be hosted at the feast in Runestone.
Next came his siblings, Nyel gave him a hug and a gift of some sweetened almonds for the trip there.
Vaemond gave his brother some advice and a wooden sword to take with him to the Eyrie ''It will be hard for you there Matarys and it will take you time to get used to it, but listen to Lord Royce and he will teach you how to fight.''
Last came Rhaenys who kneeled down and gave her nephew a hug.
''I have a gift for you, Matarys.'' She said quietly.
''What is it?'' Matarys asked with interest.
''Your brother will have his strength and his crown….your sister will be queen one day….but you little one….you will fly.'' She said quietly, drawing the Dragon egg from the satchel she had brought with her.
It was a magnificent egg, white as fresh fallen snow, smooth as a chicken's egg without a single deformity or dent, as she took it out from the satchel, the sun which had risen to drive off the ran glittered so that the egg shone like a pearl.
''It's…its for me?'' Matarys asked, slowly taking it from his aunt's hand.
''It is….but you must be very careful with it, especially when taking it up the Eyrie….keep it with you at all times and be certain to never misplace it….even at night keep it in your bed, if you should notice it moving inform the maester to send a raven to me immediately.'' Rhaenys instructed. She had held on to the egg for over two years, hoping to be blessed with her own child, but her prayers had not been answered, but if she was going to give it away, now was the time.
Matarys gave his aunt a hug.
''I will miss you sweet boy.'' Rhaenys said, giving the boy a kiss on the cheek as he made his way to the rowboat.
Rhaenys watched as the small boat made its way through Blackwater bay, praying once again to gods she did not believe in that the boy be kept safe.
The burning embers of the pyre slowly made their way into the starry night sky as a warm sea wind from the gullet embraced the courtyard.
Aegon stood beside his cousin Corlys Velaryon as they watched Aethen Velaryons body slowly burn.
Aegon's Velaryon cousin, who had served as master of ships for over a decade had died of natural causes the week prior.
The King placed a hand on Corlys's shoulder, who was Aethens younger brother and walked to the front of the pyre to address the court of Driftmark, which was joined by Visenya and her children.
''I knew my cousin Aethen Velaryon since my boyhood….as children we would swim out to the gullet in the dark of night…challenging each other to see who would turn back first….never once did he turn back in fear….my mother used to say he was half-fish…born to be at sea.'' Aegon began.
''He showed the same courage in his role as High Admiral of my Kingdoms….serving in the role for over a decade….he fought at the battle of Gulltown, taking up command of the fleet after his father was slain in the battle, he commanded the Redwyne fleet in putting down the Ironborn rebellion, and years later commanded my fleet in Dragonstone during the Dornish war, sieging the castle of Ghaston Gray, and forcing it to capitulate….the man was a loyal servant of the throne…and a formidable warrior.'' Aegon continued, several members of the crowd nodding.
''May he be given rest.'' Aegon said and the crowd murmured agreement.
The King then turned to the crowd ''My cousin left behind an heir as well, Daemon, step forward.''
Daemon Velaryon stepped forward, a young man of about 18 with long silver hair and the beginnings of a beard.
He knelt ''You honor my father and our house with your words.''
''Daemon Velaryon….son of Aethen…I do confirm your right as lord of Driftmark, Lord of the Tides, and charge you to continue your fathers role as master of ships, the High Admiral of the seven Kingdoms.'' Aegon continued.
Daemon rose ''Your grace….I feel I am not worthy of the honor…it would be enough to rule Driftmark in your name.''
Aegon frowned, it was most unusual to reject such an honor from one's King and he would have preferred to have a Velaryon in the position, but he would not force the boy to accept the honor.
''As you wish.'' Aegon said and he returned to stand beside Corlys.
As the last embers of the pyre began to disappear into the night sky, Aegon made his way to his chambers, gesturing Corlys to join him. The two made their way to a balcony outside and sat at a table, the King gestured for his son Vaemond to pour them both a cup of wine.
''Not many boys that age would turn down an appointment that would make them a member of the small council and one of the leading naval powers in the Kingdoms.'' Aegon grumbled.
Corlys took a sip of wine ''From what I know of the boy it does not surprise me…some men have ambition…my nephew is most assuredly not cut from that cloth.''
''Still…..it is one more appointment that must be made.'' Aegon said with some annoyance.
It had been a season of funerals. Jon Rosby, master-of-arms of the Aegonfort had died as well. Aegon had grown quite close to the man, sharing many a dinner with the lord to the point Aegon considered him one of his few true friends, but one morning he did not show up to drill Vaemond and Dalton Wynch. When a servant was sent to rouse him, he was found dead in a chair, a cup of wine close by.
Grandmaester Arlan had examined the wine, and afterwards had shared a quiet word with the King confirming his suspicion that Lord Rosby had been poisoned. As with most poisonings the true killer would likely never be brought to justice so Aegon had to come to terms that he would likely never bring justice for his friend. He had hoped to make Aethon Velaryon the new master-at-arms in addition to his role as high admiral but his cousin had died before he could accept the role. Aegon would need to find a new master of ships in addition to a new master-at-arms now, the main candidate was Jon Mooton, Lord of Maidenpool who had served Aegon well during the conquest.
Old Torrhen Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North had also passed away. Aegon had sent Rhaenys to Winterfell to attend his funeral as well as confirm Brandon Stark's title as the new Warden of the North, hence why she was not present at her cousin's funeral.
Another change to the council had come after the death of Balman Hayford, with Aegon appointing his sister Visenya to the role, the contacts gained during her tour of Essos proving very useful.
Corlys looked out to sea from the balcony, the waves crashing against the dark stone of the castle, rhythmic and gentle.
''I am glad I got to see it….one more time, before I will join my brother.'' The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard said softly watching the waves roll against the castle walls.
Aegon shook his head, fiercely ''The Grandmaester has assured me your illness is minor….and he has given you the best treatment in my Kingdoms.''
Corlys chuckled lightly at that ''I never knew you to be one to put much stock into the words of maesters cousin.''
''Arlan is a capable man…and I trust him on this matter….you have many years yet.'' Aegon responded.
Aegon had been surprised when his cousin was dismounted quite early on the third day in the Grand Tourney of Kings Landing, his cousin was a fine lance and many expected him to win the champions purse.
It had soon become apparent that the Lord Commander was not himself, having a pale complexion, suffering from vomiting and oft times not being able to train with the other sworn brothers of the Kingsguard.
Corlys had attributed this to some seasonal sickness but Rhaenys had been so concerned she had all but forced him to visit the Grandmaester Arlan, who had revealed the truth of the matter.
Corlys was suffering from a cancer that was sapping his energy. Arlan, while cautioning that it was serious, said it was one of the more minor forms he had seen
''I hope you are right.'' Corlys said.
''Your book will have many pages yet.'' Aegon said with a small smile, referring to the White book, a book Corlys had proposed to keep the histories of each member of the Kingsguard
The two sat there for quite some time, reminiscing about their childhood in Driftmark, which Aegon ahd visited frequently as a boy. The following morning Aegon and his family would make the short voyage by sea from Driftmark to Dragonstone.
Three Days Later
Dragonstone
Nyel ran a hand over the rough stone sculpture, carved into the shape of a Dragon. The salty sea winds of the Gullet had faded its features but Nyel thought it had its own type of beauty.
Her mother smiled softly ''As children, your father and aunt and I had a game we would play, we would go through the castle and the towers and look for any sculpture or carving that resembled a dragon….I once counted over two hundred I believe….our father…your grandfather put a stop to it when he discovered your father climbing the outside of the Sea Dragon tower, looking for carvings.''
Nyel laughed at that, she had enjoyed these stories of her mothers childhood, until now she only knew Dragonstone from reputation, but it was entirely different to see it in person.
After the funeral in Driftmark, instead of returning immediately to Kings Landing, her father had decided to take them to Dragonstone for a few days, her family's ancestral seat, thinking the children should see it.
The castle had been an impressive sight as their boat approached, dark and foreboding with the very castle itself seemingly taking flight with all the large stone dragon sculptures along its parapets and ramparts.
The castle was smaller than she had thought, however it was seemingly made larger by the massive Volcano called the Dragonmont that towered above the castle, which had been built into the very mountain itself.
Nyel and Visenya continued along the outdoor walkway, a warm wind coming in from the gullet.
Visenya pushed open a heavy oak door and gestured to Nyel to enter. Nyel followed and looked inside the chamber, which was filled with dark light from the four windows, stained black.
At the center of the chamber was a massive wooden table, some fifty feet long and in some places half as wide, the dark light in the chamber seemed to reflect off the heavily varnished and polished table, creating a sort of glow around it.
Nyels eyes widened at the impressive sight of it and she approached, running a hand down the smooth table until she reached Dragonstone.
''Your grandfather had it made for Aegon after he burned a Volantene fleet as a young man, your father was once quite influential in Essosi politics….but his true ambition always lay westwards….Your father and I and your aunt planned our invasion at this very table.'' Visenya said, a hint of nostalgia creeping in at the end.
Aegon made visits to Dragonstone quite frequently to hold court and inspect the garrison, and Rhaenys often flew Meraxes to the gullet when she found the time, but Visenya was not a woman that liked to leave her children, and had not been back to the place of her childhood for several years.
''Why is there no Essos?'' Nyel asked, she loved hearing tales of the East, particularly those from Norvos, where she had been born.
Visenya smiled ''Does it look like this chamber can fit a table that large….I shudder to think of the cost making one for Essos would cost….it would be near 100 feet wide…..though I suppose when you are lady of Dragonstone you can do as you please.''
Nyel looked shocked ''Lady of Dragonstone.''
Visenya nodded ''You were not meant to know of this now, and do not mention it to anyone in the court but your father means to make your brother Vaemond the Lord of Dragonstone when he comes of age to give him experience in ruling….and you shall rule alongside him.
Nyel was silent at that, in truth she did not know what to think about the prospect of marrying Vaemond. It was not so much the concept that was strange to her, she had known what would be expected of her to keep the bloodline pure, but she had a hard time thinking of Vaemond as anything but a brother, in truth the two were at an age where they seldom interacted and did their best to ignore each other.
Nyel nodded and looked outside the window, where her brother Vaemond was practicing his sword play under the watchful observation of the King and the knights of the Kingsguard.
''Is that why father has been spending so much time with him here?'' Nyel asked. She had scarcely seen her father or brother the past few days. Almost immediately after landing her Lord father had ridden with Vaemond to the small nearby village of Derlyn and then to the adjacent keep of Windwrym, introducing Vaemond to the notable inhabitants.
Visenya nodded ''Your father wants to teach Vaemond the layout of the land he will one day rule.''
''Does Vaemond know.'' Nyel asked, the thought of her brother being a lord in a few years was an exciting prospect.
Visenya shook her head ''No…your father means to tell him on his 16th name day, and I would appreciate if you kept this between us Nyel.''
Nyel nodded solemnly.
Visenya gestured for Nyel to follow ''Come….it's time you saw the garden.''
They made their way through dark hallways and open air courtyards until at last, tucked away in an isolated courtyard, Visenya pushed open an Iron door and they entered a small open-air courtyard.
The smell of pine hit Nyel immediately, as she wandered in. Dark trees grew on both sides of the courtyard, while wild roses, cranberry bushes, and neatly trimmed hedges filled the courtyard out. A small stone pathway led to a large obsidian sculpture in the shape of a dragon.
''Your aunt Rhaenys and I spent much time here….she used to write songs here, It is good to see the gardeners have looked after the place, it is not easy to maintain with the salt air.'' Visenya said, looking around.
''I think i'll stay here a while mother.'' Nyel said, suddenly tired, the air was warm and sweet smelling and the courtyard walls diverted most of the sea winds.
Visenya nodded, kissing her on the cheek before leaving to go attend to some business.
Nyel made her way to the Dragon Sculpture, placing her Dragon egg beside her before laying in the soft grass and before she knew it she was asleep.
She dreamt of Dragons, there were dozens of them, in every color imaginable, filling the skies of Dragonstone watching her, she could not understand how she knew, but in her dream she knew that they were long dead though somehow she found herself able to put names to every one.
Their wings created a howling wind which tore through the castle, in her dream Nyel was in the garden, looking up at them the wind beating against her face, picking up so much she was forced backwards, into the stone dragon.
She felt nothing at first, but then the stone dragon started to burn, turning bright red and orange, she reached out to touch it and felt a sudden flash of pain, she tried to pull her hand away but she could not, the dragon was burning her, hurting her.
Nyel awoke with a searing pain in her hand. When she opened her eyes to look at the source she saw that in her sleep she had grabbed her Dragon Egg, it had always been red, speckled with white but as she saw it now it was bright red, like a sword being forged by a smith.
Suddenly the egg began to slowly crack, from all sides, long black lines appearing on the previously smooth egg.
Nyel did not cry out and instead watched with fascination and excitement as the egg slowly destroyed itself.
Some time later, Visenya re-entered the garden, concerned that her daughter had not yet returned.
To her amazement she returned to not just Nyel, but also a small dragon, crimson red with horns white as bone with two long white stripes going down from the horns all the way to the tail.
The tiny dragon flapped through the garden, with Nyel close by, the dragon occasionally stopping its flight to rest upon her shoulders, her daughter scarcely noticed her.
Soon Aegon and Vaemond also appeared in the garden, a small crowd of stewards and guardsmen also forming.
Nyel turned to her family proudly as the tiny dragon perched upon her shoulder, giving a little roar.
''The first dragon to be born in the world in near seventy years.'' her father said softly, his normally stern and lordly face broken out into a full grin, while Vaemond looked equally shocked.
''Mother what was the name of the bell in Norvos….the strong booming one.'' The princess asked with a smile on her face.
''Narrah….'' Visenya managed to say after a long period of silence, her eyes still transfixed on the little hatchling, born of an egg from her own dragon Vhagar.
''Just as that bell signals strength…so too will my dragon…I name it Narrah.'' Nyel said happily.
The hatchling seemed to approve and let out another roar, this time a bit of smoke appeared, mixing with the heavy air from the volcano Dragonmont above them, seemingly standing watch over the event.
For the first time in seventy years, a new dragon had entered the world, though whether it would do good or evil, only the gods knew.
The Targaryen family's excitement would be lessened the next morning when Visenya received a raven from her connections to the south…there was a plot to kill the King of the Seven Kingdoms, and such a thing could only be repaid in blood.
Chapter 14: The Dornish Conspiracy (Michael Blackmont, Aegon)
Sixth Moon, 8012
Red Mountains outside of Castle Blackmont
Lord Michael Blackmont spurred his destrier faster, feeling the hot wind upon his face, the sand stung his eyes but he urged the horse forward, ignoring the pain, embracing the wind.
This is living. The old lord thought to himself before finally bringing his mount to a halt, letting his escort catch up to him. The afternoon sun sat low in the sky, almost obscured by the red mountains.
He stopped for a moment and took in the sight of the red mountains. As he did so often he found himself thinking of his sister Wylla who had died almost a decade ago, the memory of her face had faded from his memory, but still she remained at the periphery of his mind, like a ghost, that would not be put to rest until she was avenged.
I will join you soon enough The old Dornishman thought to himself. Maester Nyles had done what he could, but Michael was not fool enough to believe he had much time left, he was already an old man, and the cancer festering inside his body ensured he would be dead within two years, maybe more if he was lucky.
Not until the task is done He thought silently. He was not afraid of dying, but the thought of leaving the world without avenging his sister weighed on him each and every night, inhibiting his sleep.
His sister had been wife to Domeric Yronwood, the younger brother to the late Lord Yoren Yronwood. He remembered their wedding, and how proud his late father had been at arranging the match. It had ended in tragedy however as his sister had perished with her husband and all the rest at the burning of Yronwood. His maester claimed that the citadel recorded the event as a terrible accident, but Michael named it murder.
He had hoped to be named Derias spymaster, yearning for the influence and connections it would bring, as well as the opportunity to counsel her that Dorne must rise up against the Dragon. However the lady Martell had never seen fit to honor him with the post and one day he grew tired of waiting and decided to take matters into his own hands to avenge his sister….which could only be accomplished with the death of the Dragon King, ordering his connections to explore the possibility of murdering the King.
Michael continued gazing at the red mountains, he could sense his escort growing restless but he had no wish to return to his bed just yet, within a few months he would like not be able to even ride, and returning home to his thoughts would remind him yet again that it had been another day that his sister remained unavenged.
The old man remained there with his thoughts for quite some time before his captain of the guard roused him from his peace with a terse whisper ''Lord Blackmont.''
Michael was about to chastise the man for disturbing him when he looked behind them and understood why he had been roused, a feeling of great sadness coursing through his body.
It is over. The Lord of Blackmont thought to himself, his hand slowly dropping to his sword.
Behind them stood a contingent of mounted men, probably fifty in all, most with light lances, with swords and shields, one of the riders was carrying a large flag, the black and red dragon of the Targaryens stitched proudly onto the cloth. The contingent outnumbered his small escort of ten men.
At the forefront of the column was a man with a long face and pale skin, a ragged black beard and a receding hairline, his black hair tied back behind his head. He wore fine black ringmai, supple leather gloves and a long gray cloak fastened with a silver salmon that covered much of his body as well as the back of his horse. His shield bore an insignia of some sort of fish, a device that Michael did not recognize.
The man rode towards Michael with two guards, and the Lord of Blackmont nodded to two of his men to follow.
''I do not recognize your standard my lord…..I would know your name and your purpose in my lands….I received no raven informing me of your visit.'' Michael said, he knew exactly what this was in truth but he was content to let things play out as they would.
''No raven was sent.'' The man said gruffly.
''Nonetheless I would know your name.'' Michael said coolly.
''Jon Mooton….Lord of Maidenpool and Master-at-Arms to our King Aegon…and here on his orders.'' The man said, and Michael got the feeling he was one that enjoyed the sound of his own voice.
''Your King perhaps.'' Michael said, dropping his courtesy, there was no further point in the farce.
''You damn yourself with your own mouth…..more so than you are already….I have been sent to take you to the Aegonfort to stand trial for plotting to murder the King.'' Jon said.
''If you think I will go off meekly you are mistaken…..you will get no fear from me Lord Mooton.'' The old Dornishman said.
''I dont give a fuck what you do or how you go….so long as you tell your men to drop your weapons and surrender.'' Jon Mooton said.
The Lord of Blackmont then drew his blade, causing Jon Mootons men to do the same, as well as his own escorts.
Lord Mooton chuckled at that, drawing his own blade from a well oiled sheath ''You're outnumbered more than three to one….spare your men a slaughter.''
I'm sorry Wylla The old man thought to himself, he would go to his grave with his sister unavenged.
Michael Blackmont was many things, but no man could say he lacked for courage, blindly stupid as it was.
The old man suddenly lunged at Lord Mooton, putting all his strength into a brutal downwards slash at the mans unprotected head, Jon Mooton had not been named the Kings master-at-arms for no reason however and he brought his own sword up to meet it with a clash of steel. The riverlander then brought an elbow into the old Dornish man's chest while the two were engaged and Lord Blackmont fell to the sand from his horse, his head ringing.
He saw his own men had rushed forward to join the fight, hopelessly outnumbered. One of the youngest members of his guard Dallar rode forward riding straight for Lord Mooton, Mooton caught the boys spear on his shield and bashed it into the boys chest, sending him to the ground where he was soon surrounded and captured.
The fight, if it could even be called that, ended almost immediately with his men surrendering once they saw their lord had been downed, with very few casualties on either side. The surviving men would be spared and Michael Blackmont, weary from his fall and illness, brought back to the capitol to face the King's justice.
To the east of Blackmont, another similar situation occurred, albeit without the struggles of the prior one.
Visenya Targaryen had also received word that Ellaria Toland, the lady of Ghost Hill, a castle on Dornes northern coast, was involved in Lord Blackmonts treason.
The King had sent the hedge knight Ser Neilyn, whom he had met at Wyl during the Dornish war, with a contingent of men from Ory's household guard in Storms End to sail from the weeping town and apprehend Lady Toland.
Ser Neilyn was an interesting choice to send as he was an unlanded hedge knight of humble birth whose only title was that of the Master of the Hunt in the Aegonfort, but given that Aegon kept no full time executioner, he bid Ser Neilyn to travel as the King's Justice. This decision was made more palatable due to the fact the man was Dornish himself and knew the people.
Lady Ellaria had been taken without incident and was taken back to the capitol where, along with lord Blackmont she would stand trial for her role in what became known as the Dornish Conspiracy.
Seventh Moon, 8012
Throne Room of the Aegonfort
''By right of birth and blood…..I demand a trial by combat.'' The old Dornish lord said, leaning on a cane, drawing forth a murmur from the court in the timber longhall of the Aegonfort.
Aegon was not surprised, it was hardly unusual for a lord to invoke this right when imprisoned, men claimed that the gods would favor the side that stood for righteousness, but in Aegon's mind, the only ''gods'' involved in a trial by combat were the sword arms of the men involved, nonetheless Aegon would not attempt to subvert the man's right.
The King nodded slowly ''You have that right….will you be summoning a champion?''
The crowd whispered in anticipation, the old Dornishman was clearly in a poor state, with his illness and his fall from the horse. Any sane man would elect a champion but tales of Lord Blackmonts brave yet stupid resistance had reached the court and with a man like that you never could be certain. The King hoped the man would elect to summon a champion, he did not want an old dying man to be cut down in his hall, if the man would die it would be swift, any duel would be a mummer's farce.
These fears proved unfounded as Lord Blackmont shook his head ''I am not the sort of man to have others do my fighting for me, but I can scarce lift a blade let alone swing one….my brother in law will stand for me….no need to send a raven, he is here in the city.''
Aegon nodded, he had given the old lord the courtesy of a tower cell, traitor or not he was still a lord, no doubt the Lord Blackmont had managed to deliver a message informing his brother in law of his plans and summoning him to the capitol in haste.
The King turned to Orys, who had recovered from his wound in the tourney, though a cloth sash covered his eye.
''Have Lord Blackmonts champion found and bring him here at sundown….the trial will take place today.'' Aegon commanded and his half-brother nodded and went to his task.
The King had a sudden urge to handle the duel himself, and why not he was capable, he was perhaps the best swordsman in the city, though his sister Visenya could match him and Ser Gawen Corbray would likely prove a challenge, his cousin Corlys would be tough fight as well, though the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had less energy as of late due to his injury.
His thoughts were interrupted as one of his Kingsguard stepped forward immediately, approaching the throne.
''Your Grace…..when I was sworn as one of your Kingsguard I made a pledge that If I should fall let it be surrounded by the bodies of your enemies….I have no plans of falling today but let me make good on that pledge today….I protected the queen from harm during her tour of the Free Cities, and I fought well in your name during the Dornish war….let me stand for you your grace.'' The Kingsguard said.
Aegon looked down at the face of Ser Harold Langward, the Kingsguard that represented the Stormlands.
The King gave a look towards Corlys, who nodded, Ser Harold might have been arrogant but none could deny he was a skilled swordsman, though Ser Gawen Corbray and the Lord Commander outskilled him.
The King nodded slowly ''I will give you the honor of representing me in the trial Ser Harold, make yourself ready for tonight….you shall have the use of both of my squires.''
A Few Hours Later
Courtyard of the Aegonfort
The sun was slowly setting as both combatants presented themselves in front of the King and his court. The King had decreed the fight was to be held outside, he did not want blood spilt in his throne room.
Some in the court had suggested that benches be set up and a feast held, but Aegon had refused them, he had no intention of the trial becoming a spectacle, it was a trial, nothing more nothing less, but certainly not an event that warranted frivolity.
A cold wind from the bay blew in causing many in the court to mumble about the lack of seating, but Aegon was silent, his arms crossed.
Lord Blackmonts champion was little more than a hedge knight, lowborn who had married the Lord Blackmonts youngest sister. He did not look particularly impressive, having a pinched face, small dark eyes and rough yellow stubble. He did not have a squire so Corlys Velayrons own squire, Omer Bulwer, son of the runner up to the tourney of Kings Landing, attended him.
He wore a long black robe that reached his legs. On his chest he had a heavy padded cloth gambeson. He wore leather arm guards and gloves, his sword was plain yet well sharpened while his shield was freshly painted yellow with the black eagle of house Blackmont standing proud. He wore a leather helm with a steel guard over his nose.
Ser Harold Langward made the much more impressive figure, wearing the heavy white plate of the Kingsguard, a cloak as white as snow upon his shoulders while his face was fully obscured by a plate helm, save for his eyes. Behind him, Aegon's son Vaemond held his sword while Dalton Wynch held his shield, emblazoned with the sigil of house Langward.
The septon spoke a few words, holding out his crystal in front of the sun's dying rays asking for the gods to favor the man who represented justice.
Once the septon had finished, Aegon gave a curt nod and commanded the trial to begin.
Ser Harold began the attack launching a succession of heavy strikes at the hedge knight who barely managed to block them, at the end his shield becoming wrent and broken, He retreated back to little Ormer Bulwer who handed him another shield and he returned to the fray.
''Yield…'' Ser Harold called out and the hedge knight shook his head and the battle continued.
Ser Harold launched another downwards strike at the knight who was unable to get his shield up, the Kingsguards blade hitting the mans leather helm and gliding downwards, badly damaging the steel nasal guard and causing blood to drip down the mans face.
The crowd shouted encouragement from all sides, the courtyard mixing with shouts and the clash of steel on shield.
''Kill him!'' the Ironborn Dalton Wynch cried out.
Ser Farrel caught a slash on his shield and launched one of his own but Ser Harold turned it away with his own shield with a tremendous clash of splinters, Ser Harold tossed it away and waved away the offer of a fresh shield, holding his longsword in two hands.
The hedge knight launched an attack but Ser Harold sidestepped it and the dance continued.
The Kingsguard retook the offensive, launching two more strikes but the hedge knight blocked one with his sword and avoided the other.
Aegon had to admit the Hedge Knight was fast as the man avoided another one of Ser Harold's strikes before catching another on his shield; he was clearly comfortable in his light armor, though he gave up ground too easily in Aegon's opinion.
Ser Farrel, who had been pushed near to the other side of the keep launched his own attack but the Kingsguard caught it on his blade and slashed downwards, cutting the man's shield hand and causing him to drop it to the ground, now both men stood, with only swords in hand.
''Yield…I have no wish to kill you Ser.'' Harold repeated but was once again ignored by the hedge knight whose face was furrowed in concentration.
The two men exchanged blows as they made their way back to the center, both strikes being blocked.
Ser Harold looked much more comfortable, he was able to hold his longsword with two hands while his opponent could only hold it in one due to his wounded shield hand.
The Kingsguard, sensing this weakness brought his longsword in a sideways strike towards the man's left side, it was not the best of strikes, rather slow and clumsy, but the hedge knight was unable to get the sword to the opposite side in time before the blade hacked him square in the side of the neck, cutting through sinew and muscle, spraying blood.
The hedge knight collapsed in a heap, gurgling and coughing blood as red spittle poured out of his mouth before at last he went still.
The crowd began cheering for the Kingsguard who had not even suffered a scratch in the duel, Aegon noted the man's face was filled with no joy when he took off his helm, looking almost sad at his victory.
Aegon had ordered Lord Blackmont to be brought back to his tower cell to await execution, which would take place the next morning.
The King had no permanent executioner so he once again entrusted the role to the Dornish knight Ser Neilyn. That morning Michael Blackmont was taken into the courtyard and sentenced to die. Aegon had rejected the proposal that he be executed in front of the entire city, he would not make a spectacle of justice.
To his credit the man died well, there had been no fear in his eyes as he was led to the block and no move to avoid Ser Neilyns strike.
Ellaria Toland, Lady of Ghost Hill who had watched the proceedings from her tower cell realized a trial by combat was a fool's errand, she had no skilled warriors in her family and the Kingsguard were more than a match for any of her household knights so she consented to a trial in front of the court.
To her credit she spoke well, passionately detailing the burning of her father at Yronwood and the toll it had taken on her house, but in the end it was all for naught, she had no friends on the council and in a unanimous decision the small council delivered their verdict to the King…she was guilty of attempting to murder him.
The next morning she too was executed in the courtyard of the Aegonfort by Ser Neilyn. Ser Gawen Corbray had suggested that they place both traitors heads on spikes outside the city as a warning to traitors but Aegon had refused and had the remains of both sent back to their families.
So ended what the Maesters would refer to as the Dornish Conspiracy….two lords of proud houses lay dead in its wake, yet even King Aegon's greatest opponents could not argue the fact that justice was done both swiftly and fairly.
