The mouth of the Blackwater Rush stretched open like a gaping wound across the land, its powerful currents surging endlessly toward the sea.
Since Aegon the Conqueror had founded King's Landing, the capital had witnessed countless wars drenched in blood and fire.
But never before had it faced a battle on such a massive scale.
Woooooo!
The deep blast of Volantis's war horns echoed across Blackwater Bay.
After a long voyage across the Narrow Sea, the mighty combined fleet of Volantis finally appeared on the horizon.
The sails of the Volantene warships proudly displayed the symbols of their great city—the Elephant, the Tiger, the Long Bridge, the Black Walls, and the Chariot.
Behind the three hundred warships of Volantis sailed ninety Lysene vessels flying the banners of the Goddess of Love.
Following them came the fleets of the great slave cities of Slaver's Bay, each bearing the golden Harpy upon its sails.
Standing atop the walls of King's Landing, Tyrion Lannister narrowed his eyes.
"How did they arrive so quickly?"
"The Stormlands' defenses in the Stepstones should have delayed them."
"Davos Seaworth was sent ahead long ago."
"Was all of this merely coincidence..."
"...or someone's carefully laid trap?"
His gaze shifted across the sea.
"Who will have the final laugh?"
"The Volantenes?"
"The Bastard?"
"Or me?"
To Tyrion's surprise, neither Stannis Baratheon's fleet nor Lord Tywin's reinforcements had appeared.
The Tyrell army was nowhere in sight either.
Instead, the enormous Volantene fleet had arrived uninvited.
"Were they saviors..."
"...or another disaster?"
The Triarchy and Volantis had never been friends of Westeros.
Years ago, during the Battle of the Gullet, the Triarchy had slain a Targaryen prince and his dragon.
Watching the approaching armada, Tyrion quickly realized their intentions.
They weren't sailing toward Dragonstone.
Nor were they interested in Driftmark.
Instead, they were positioning themselves to control the entrance to Blackwater Bay.
They had bypassed both Myr and Tyrosh entirely.
Their objective was obvious.
A decapitation strike.
No one believed Volantis had come to aid the Stormlands.
As the greatest slave empire in Essos, Volantis stood in direct opposition to the Liberator.
Yet Tyrion understood that their "help" would never come without a price.
An army that had crossed half the known world would certainly expect rewards.
Gold.
Land.
And slaves.
"The Volantenes are incredibly ambitious..."
"They don't just want to destroy the Stormlands."
"They intend to plunder King's Landing as well."
Tyrion immediately straightened.
"Prepare the pitch!"
"Bring out the wildfire!"
His voice echoed across the battlements.
"It doesn't matter which fleet reaches us first."
"They'll all burn."
"The Volantenes may fight the Stormlands if they wish..."
"...but they will never be allowed inside King's Landing."
A smile slowly spread across Tyrion's face.
Whether the stag or the elephant emerged victorious, both sides would bleed heavily.
That outcome suited him perfectly.
"Send word."
"Block the river channel immediately."
Once the great chain was raised...
He could simply watch the Volantenes and the Stormlanders slaughter one another.
---
At almost the same moment, Stannis Baratheon issued his own orders.
"Retreat against the current."
"Avoid direct engagement."
His scouts had already spotted the approaching Volantene fleet.
Unlike Tyrion, Stannis had no intention of confronting them head-on.
The Volantene armada sailed south of Dragonstone before turning north again, completely bypassing both Dragonstone and Driftmark.
Those islands weren't worth the cost of a prolonged siege.
Their true prize lay elsewhere.
King's Landing.
And the Stormlands.
War drums thundered across the sea.
The oar masters shouted new commands.
One by one, Stannis's warships changed course.
Instead of charging forward, the Dragonstone fleet withdrew toward the open sea.
Like a school of fish scattering before a predator, the fleet spread apart in every direction.
Rather than fighting the Volantenes directly, Stannis relied on speed and maneuverability.
Although the Volantene fleet possessed overwhelming numbers, many of their ships carried large numbers of soldiers.
Their mobility was far inferior.
---
"What are they doing?"
Magistrate Marajo observed everything through an exquisitely crafted Myrish lens.
From the deck of his flagship, he watched Stannis's fleet scatter like drifting leaves.
"They've abandoned the siege of Blackwater Rush."
His deputy stepped forward.
"My lord, should we pursue Stannis?"
"Or should we attack directly?"
"The Stormlands' commander is on the southern bank."
"If we kill him now, the battle will end immediately."
A Meereenese commander sneered.
"They're running."
"They're afraid."
Marajo merely snorted.
"Cowards."
Then he slowly shook his head.
"No."
"We won't waste time chasing Stannis."
"He may be important..."
"...but he isn't the reason we crossed half the world."
His eyes fixed upon the battlefield ahead.
"I didn't gather the strength of every slave city merely to hand victory to the lions."
"I came here for one man."
"The man who dares abolish slavery."
"The so-called Liberator."
"The false savior worshipped by the Red Temple."
His weathered face remained calm.
Yet beneath that calm burned unwavering determination.
For three hundred years...
The Tiger Party had waited for this opportunity.
Slavery itself stood on the edge of collapse.
Volantis had no retreat left.
Marajo understood his homeland's decline better than anyone.
If they delayed any longer...
The Stormlands would only grow stronger.
The Red Temple's influence spread farther every day.
Internal unrest and external threats had pushed Volantis to the brink.
This war...
Was their final gamble.
"Pass down my orders."
"The lighter warships will contain Stannis."
"Do not pursue recklessly."
"As for the rest..."
He raised his sword.
"The armies of Meereen..."
"Yunkai..."
"New Ghis..."
"Astapor..."
"Toleros..."
"And Qarth..."
"You will land with me on the southern bank."
"For justice."
"For the future of the world."
One envoy from the slave cities hesitated before speaking.
"My lord..."
"What about taking slaves?"
"Without Myr and Tyrosh, every city is desperately short of labor."
"I've heard Westerosi slaves fetch an excellent price."
Marajo shot him a cold glance.
"So eager?"
The envoy swallowed nervously.
"Our soldiers have traveled thousands of miles."
"They expect rewards."
"They must recover the cost of this expedition."
Marajo sighed.
"Very well."
"Choose whichever captains are the greediest."
"They may enter Blackwater Rush."
"My own warships, together with part of the Slaver's Bay fleet, will accompany them."
"That is the greatest concession I will make."
The Yunkai'i envoy immediately beamed.
"Thank you, Magistrate!"
"The men will be delighted."
Marajo paid him no further attention.
He had little faith in Yunkai's undisciplined soldiers.
Whether they lived or died would hardly affect the outcome of the battle.
Turning toward another commander, he asked,
"Magister Ren."
"Will you oversee the Yunkai'i forces?"
The Lysene Magister bowed respectfully.
"It would be my honor."
Marajo nodded before surveying the assembled army.
Tiger Cloaks.
Citizen soldiers from the Black Walls.
The Unsullied of Astapor.
Meereenese pit fighters.
Toleros slingers.
Qartheen archers.
Mercenary companies.
Nearly every slave city had answered Volantis's call.
His adjutant hesitated.
"My lord..."
"What if the Lannisters refuse to open the gates?"
Marajo laughed coldly.
"I've come to save them."
"Would they truly shut me out?"
His expression darkened.
"If they refuse..."
"My soldiers are hungry."
"So are the armies of Slaver's Bay."
"The Lannisters see King's Landing as spoils."
"So do I."
"I'll merely borrow the city."
"I can always return it afterward."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)