The aerial battle over Meereen ended in less than an hour. In the end, Dany captured one colossal swamp dragon and eight shadow dragons.
She also took several dragonriders prisoner.
Of course, she had brought down more than eight shadow dragons, but of the fourteen that fell into the sea, only six survived.
Some were too gravely wounded and drowned in the waters, while others had their skulls, necks, or vital parts pierced by dragonfire fireballs and died instantly.
Both Drogon and the wyverns were moving at high speed. With so many targets, it was too difficult for Dany to strike each dragon while avoiding their vital points.
When the wyvern riders finally lost the will to fight and scattered in panic, the Dragon Queen leapt from one dragon to another "skyjacking" style, and directly captured two more.
But skyjacking was troublesome and far too dangerous. Once she left the safety of the bay, Dany dared not attempt it again. A mistake over the sea meant falling into the water, but a mistake over farmland meant becoming nothing more than fertilizer.
Though the wyvern riders had lost their commanders, Benny and Balerion, along with their "faith communication system," they were not foolish enough to fight Dany to the death.
Realizing they could not kill the Dragon Queen, they grew wary and immediately scattered to escape.
During the pursuit, Dany captured two more dragons and killed one, while the remaining ten or so managed to flee.
After all, shadow wyverns could reach speeds of over two hundred kilometers per hour. Once they escaped her sight for just five minutes, covering more than ten kilometers, not even Drogon's sharp eyes could track them.
The aftermath outside Meereen was littered with smoke and fire.
Unable to break through to Meereen's skies and forced into aerial combat, the wyvern riders had no choice but to drop the hundreds of pounds of incendiary bombs they carried onto the farmlands.
Even warplanes jettison their fuel tanks before combat.
Thus, dozens of fields of corn, beets, and sweet potato vines were set ablaze.
Yet the total loss did not even cover ten acres. The Dragon Queen was hardly distressed.
Drogon descended gracefully onto the dusty yellow road beside the cornfields, his wings stirring up clouds of ash.
"Caw—"
Before Dany even slid down from his back, a raven landed on a crooked willow by the roadside, unafraid of the dragon's presence. "Caw—Your Grace, safe and sound."
"That's good."
Dany breathed easier. This was Morrone's animal companion, sent to report on Kyzan's situation.
She had worried that Marqarys might use a diversion tactic—sending forty wyverns to strike Meereen while dispatching another thirty to raid Astapor or Kyzan.
It wasn't paranoia. Knowing the enemy's first class of dragonrider trainees numbered a hundred, failing to prepare for seventy of them would have been careless.
And so, the Dragon Queen still fretted over the thirty wyverns she had only imagined.
After being saved by Dany's soul-binding, the three skinchangers—"White Mask" Morrone, "Goat" Ghisella, and "Boar" Boroq—had indeed grown stronger.
Naturally, they sought new animal companions.
This time, Dany forbade them from filling all their bond slots, allowing only one raven each.
Talking ravens were not unique to Lord Commander Mormont at the Wall. In Slaver's Bay, the masters, with their endless wealth, had collected every sort of rare bird.
Finding three ravens that could mimic human speech was child's play.
One raven stayed in Meereen, reporting news from Kyzan and keeping watch on the skies. Another was kept by Tyrion in Old Ghis.
The third was something more magical—Ghisella sent hers directly into Marqarys' rookery.
The idea was Tyrion's.
The Dragon Queen, still troubled by the seventy remaining wyverns, had demanded that her only wyvern rider scout Marqarys. Ideally, she wanted constant surveillance of their movements to ensure they could not launch a surprise attack on Slaver's Bay.
There was no doubt this mission was dangerous, with a strong chance of a "glorious sacrifice." Dying for the cause of freeing slaves—was that not glorious?
But the Wildfire General rejected such "glory." His will to live was far stronger.
First, Rajon Clinton had conveniently filled the "Old Dragon Leads the Way" trap. Now, with Ghisella's raven, he dodged the "aerial reconnaissance" trap as well.
Thus, he narrowly escaped two of the Dragon Queen's deadly pitfalls in a row.
Now that he had witnessed the speed of the shadow dragons, it was clear: if he truly rode to Marqarys to scout those seventy wyverns, he would almost certainly die a "glorious" death.
Dany, of course, hadn't known that wyverns came in swamp and shadow breeds. She had assumed Tyrion's Tessarion and the other seventy were all about the same speed.
As long as he was cautious and avoided being surrounded, even if spotted, he should be able to escape.
Not that she truly wanted to throw the Wildfire General to his death. But she held to one principle: everyone had value. If they accepted her gifts, then they must use their value for her.
Like Count Cleon of Broken Chains. Like the Imp.
She had taken him in, given him high office, noble status, fine food, luxurious clothing, even money for brothels with the Red Priestess at hand. In return, he had to brew her wildfire.
And Tyrion was indeed a wildfire expert. That was the value he could give his queen.
Now, she had given him a wyvern, accepted his fealty, and made him Tessarion's master. That meant he must also take on a dragonrider's duty: to charge the enemy with fearless courage.
To bear the dragonrider's responsibility: to die in service to the Dragon Queen.
Well, Dany admitted she couldn't help herself. Just as she dug pits for Jon Snow, she found herself doing the same for Tyrion once she learned he was a bastard.
Yet Tyrion was far sharper than Jon. Not reckless, but steady and cautious.
He told the Dragon Queen: If Marteris could receive letters from New Ghis and Tolos, then they must have built a rookery. And a rookery usually required dozens, sometimes hundreds of ravens.
When the ravens were sent out with letters, they would often bring back one or two wild mates, sometimes even lay a clutch of eggs along the way, and the following year return with a dozen fledglings.
The maesters who managed the rookeries had seen this countless times, so they would never suspect that an extra raven was actually a spy.
Dany was not a maester, nor had she studied "ravenry" in the Citadel, so she did not know whether Tyrion was exaggerating.
Later, after asking old Aemon, she confirmed that Tyrion had indeed come up with a brilliant spy plan.
To let a skinchanger's raven pretend it had been tamed by the enemy's maester, and then "faithfully" deliver messages for them. Isn't that ingenious?
And just as Tyrion had predicted, Ghisella's raven successfully found a mate and a small nest inside the rookery of Marteris' lord's manor.
Now it had both a home and a partner.
The spy raven could not only monitor the skies around Marteris but also openly, without arousing any suspicion, eavesdrop on and observe the enemy's messages.
Since the rookery was the place where letters were sent and received, if a letter was opened or read there, the spy raven could see and hear it.
Of course, if Jenny, or a sorcerer with strong spiritual power, happened to enter the rookery while Ghisella was in her "raven-spirit state," then the cruel story of Melisandre slaughtering the six skinchangers might repeat itself.
But Ghisella need not fear sharing their fate. Even if her soul was severely wounded, Dany would help heal her with spirit-infused magic.
Fortunately, the spy raven not only happened to see a letter from their old friend Grazdan but also personally witnessed forty-one wyverns taking flight. After the battle of Tolos, Marteris no longer tried to conceal its wyverns.
In fact, to raise morale that had sunk after the fall of Tolos, Benni stationed the dragonriders in the very center of the great camp outside the city.
"Your Grace, we found it."
Under the blazing midday sun, Grey Worm, drenched in sweat, pushed through the stalks of maize and stepped onto the dusty road.
Behind him came a line of seventeen or eighteen Unsullied, their faces flushed red from the heat.
Beneath a crooked willow, Dany rose from the roots where she had been sitting in the shade. She lifted her head, saw the horn in Grey Worm's hand, and her heart leapt with joy. Softly, she whispered to the raven perched nearby: "Keep watching the north, and when you have time, fly a few rounds across the Dothraki Sea. Pay special attention for any news of Jhogo Khal."
"Caw—at once, Your Grace—caw—" The raven croaked, flapped its wings, and flew north over the sea of grass.
"Your Grace, I have fulfilled my duty!" Grey Worm came to her side, holding with both hands a jet-black, gleaming, curved dragon horn.
It looked somewhat like a goat's horn, yet it radiated a palpable aura of regal power, felt even by ordinary men.
Its surface was carved with concentric grooves, within which fine runes of Valyrian steel and gold wire were inlaid. The horn was only thirty centimeters long, standing upright it measured just twenty. Smaller than Dany had imagined.
Small, yet exquisite.
Dany ran her fingers across the inscriptions, reciting with a playful expression: "I am the slayer of dragons, the master of dragonlords, the scourge of false dragons, the bane of traitor dragons. No mortal is worthy to make me sound. Fire in blood, blood in fire, I was born for Balerion."
"How domineering. Well then, let's see if I, a mere mortal, can make you sound today."
At her level now, if she still feared the backlash of a horn, then she had no right to dream of the sweet victory of "Jenny falling, Dany feasting."
Two years ago, when her three dragons were only six months old, they had already destroyed the Dragonbinder with her.
Thinking of the Dragonbinder now, she felt a pang of regret. Back then she had only been able to destroy its runes, not the ancient dragon soul bound to it. Without destroying it, she could not absorb it through spirit-binding.
Perhaps it was time to pay Euron a visit. She had heard he was soon to wed Cersei. Should she attend and bring a gift?
Drogon donned his "Blacksmith" guise, and Dany entered the Song of Wind state, her Ninefold Vortex spinning at full force.
Two dragon-spirits appeared in her consciousness: Drogon the Blacksmith, and Rhaegal the Vagabond.
In her strongest state, Dany waved her hand to Grey Worm. "All of you, back away. At least two hundred meters."
When Grey Worm had led the Unsullied to a safe distance, Dany raised the horn to her lips.
Then she frowned, suddenly remembering how many times the two-headed monster Benni had slobbered over it.
Rather disgusting.
So she conjured elemental fire, scorching the horn inside and out.
After disinfecting it thoroughly, she finally felt at ease bringing the now blazing-hot horn close.
"Woooooo—"
At first the sound was low and broken, like a cracked flute. But slowly, as vast torrents of magic were drained from her, the runes on the horn began to glow from the mouthpiece upward, ring by ring, radiating a searing white-gold light.
Under the noonday sun, the sky was already white-hot, yet from afar Grey Worm thought the Dragon Queen was embracing a tiny sun blazing with endless light.
It was almost blinding.
But apart from the glare, there was no soul-shaking power.
The sound, though high and piercing, carried no destructive force.
"Who are you? That you could restore me completely?"
A voice like the breaking of the heavens resounded in Dany's ears.
(End of Chapter)
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