When the boom of the giant bronze bell exploded over the Cape of Eagles, Daemon was flying The Cannibal over the source of the Blue Fork.
The tolling from the Booming Tower was hoarse and urgent, like the wail of a dying beast. Every chime struck the eardrums, mixing with distant battle cries and Ironborn howls into a tangled mess in the sky over Seagard.
Looking down, dozens of longships crowded the bay west of Seagard, black sails embroidered with various crests.
Ironborn surged ashore from the ships like a black tide, waving battle axes and grappling hooks. Some were setting fires, some dragging screaming women, and others stuffing looted gold and silver into sacks, shouting slogans like "What is dead may never die."
"It's the Booming Tower!" Gael's voice came from Dreamfyre's back, pale violet eyes staring fixedly at the coast below.
Half of Seagard's indigo banners had fallen. The silver eagle sigil was blackened by smoke. The base of the walls was crowded with axe-wielding Ironborn. Their longships crawled over the mudflats of the Cape of Eagles like dense black poisonous snakes, skull flags on decks snapping in the firelight.
The land of the Cape of Eagles was dyed dark red by firelight.
From Seagard to coastal villages, thatched huts burned, fishing boats were scuttled. Several farmers who tried to resist lay in pools of blood, throats slit, Ironborn spears stuck beside their bodies with straw hats hanging on the tips.
Daemon Targaryen's Caraxes let out an angry roar. Crimson dragonfire grazed a watchtower, burning two Ironborn throwing rocks into charcoal. "These stinking fish spawn!" His voice was hostile, silver-white hair dancing wildly in the wind. "Little Daemon, watch me burn all their ships to feed the fish!"
"Don't be rash!" Daemon pulled The Cannibal's reins. The black dragon surged upward, dodging an iron arrow shot from below the wall.
He surveyed the entire battlefield: The defense line of Seagard's west wall had been breached by Ironborn. The local lord, Lord Jason Mallister, was leading soldiers in silver eagle armor to plug the gap. Rage burned in his blue-grey eyes; every swing of his longsword brought a spray of blood.
The villages of the Cape of Eagles were a sea of fire. Thatched roofs crackled. Ironborn dragged screaming women toward longships. Several children's corpses were discarded on the mudflats, waves crashing on the rocks with bloody foam.
"Gael, stay close to him." Daemon's voice was cold as iron. "You two seal off the coastline. Burn all longships; don't let a single one escape. Remember, protect yourselves and watch him—don't let him go crazy and charge into the Ironborn crowd."
Gael tapped Dreamfyre's neck lightly. The pale blue dragon lowed in response: "Don't worry." She glanced at the eager Daemon Targaryen beside her. "If he dares act recklessly, I'll have Dreamfyre spray him."
"Hey!" Just as Daemon Targaryen was about to retort, Caraxes was passed by Gael's Dreamfyre from the side rear. He looked down to glare at Gael but dared not truly get angry. "Burn ships then burn ships, who's afraid of whom?"
Two dragon shadows dived instantly. Crimson and pale blue dragonfire wove into a net, covering the longships on the mudflats.
Ironborn screams pierced eardrums. Some tried to jump into the sea to escape but were hit by burning sail debris, struggling in the water turning into torches.
The outermost longships caught fire first. The cracking of pine wood mixed with Ironborn curses like a chaotic funeral song.
Daemon took a deep breath, patting The Cannibal's neck. The black dragon let out a deafening roar. Pitch-black dragonfire poured down like a waterfall, smashing precisely into the Ironborn cluster besieging the west wall.
No screams, only the crisp sound of burning flesh—where dragonfire swept, Ironborn scattered like ash in the wind, turning into charred dust along with their battle axes and leather armor.
"It's dragons! True dragons of the royal family!" Mallister soldiers at the breach erupted in cheers. Lord Jason seized the chance to cut down an Ironborn captain, feathers on his silver eagle helm stained with blood. "Hold the line! The royal dragons are here to help us!"
The Ironborn formation collapsed instantly. They feared no walls, no swords, but feared this fire of destruction descending from the sky.
Some dropped weapons to run for the mudflats, some knelt to pray to the Drowned God, and a few crazy fools threw axes at The Cannibal, only to be burned to ash by black dragonfire.
"Let the hunt begin," Daemon whispered. The black three-headed dragon brand on his right shoulder was startlingly hot, as if resonating with The Cannibal's rage.
He guided the black dragon to sweep low over the villages. Dragonfire flew close to rooftops, forcing Ironborn hiding in barns out, yet sparing women and children huddled in corners.
Dust rose on the distant horizon. Rayford Rosby arrived with Daemon's followers.
Rupert Crabb charged at the front, cutting down the first fleeing Ironborn. Mycah Rivers roared, charging into the crowd with his battle axe. Corlin Celtigar and Leowyn Corbray flanked him. Jarmen Waters's arrows never missed, his single eye glinting coldly in the firelight. They were like a sharp knife thrust into the Ironborn's escape route to the mudflats, turning chaotic rout into despairing slaughter.
"Lord Mallister!" Daemon's voice transmitted through the dragon roar to the wall. "Take your men out! Mop up the remnants!"
Jason Mallister paused, then reacted. He raised his arm and shouted: "For Seagard! For the Silver Eagle!" Soldiers shouted along, surging out of the breach like a tide. Silver eagle armor gleamed silver in the firelight, like a flock of vengeful raptors.
Every inch of the Cape of Eagles became a battlefield. Daemon circled high on The Cannibal, pitch-black dragonfire falling continuously, weaving an inescapable fire net.
He saw Daemon Targaryen on Caraxes deliberately spraying dragonfire into the sea around longships. Steam scalded Ironborn trying to jump into the sea into howling.
Gael's Dreamfyre precisely ignited the mast of every longship. Pale blue flames danced like spirits, turning black sails into giant torches.
Ironborn resistance grew weaker. Those raiders believing in the "Old Way" lost all ferocity before dragonfire, leaving only animalistic fear.
Some knelt begging for mercy with prayers to the Drowned God, only to be decapitated by Mallister soldiers catching up;
Some crawled into rock crevices, only to be burned to charcoal by The Cannibal's breath;
An Ironborn captain wearing a tricorne hat tried to organize a counterattack, but was shot through the eye by Harlan Hunter, nailed to a rock carved with Drowned God symbols.
The battle lasted from noon to dawn. When the first ray of red sun pierced the smoke, shining on the ruins of Seagard, the Cape of Eagles finally quieted down.
The mudflats were piled with Ironborn corpses and burnt longship wreckage. Waves rolled charred wood chips and bloody foam, washing the coast repeatedly as if trying to cleanse the sin of this land.
Daemon landed The Cannibal in Seagard's square. The black dragon's claws stepped on flagstones whitened by dragonfire heat, sulfurous steam puffing from his nostrils.
Lord Jason Mallister walked over leaning on his sword. Blood on his armor had coagulated. His blue-grey eyes were bloodshot but held the relief of survival.
"This humble one Jason Mallister, Lord of Seagard, thanks the Prince... thanks the Iron Throne." His voice was hoarse, bowing deeply to Daemon. "If not for your timely arrival, Seagard would likely have been thoroughly plundered today."
Daemon Targaryen and Gael also landed. Scales of Caraxes and Dreamfyre were stained with soot.
Daemon Targaryen grinned, showing two rows of white teeth, charred cloth scraps hanging on his silver beard. "These fish spawn burn too easily; haven't had enough fun yet."
Gael shook her head gently, pale violet eyes sweeping the injured soldiers and weeping women in the square. "Tally casualties first, treat the wounded. Rayford, have everyone help clean the battlefield."
Daemon looked at the distant horizon. The rising sun dyed the sea water golden red, but couldn't wash away the bloody smell in the air.
He knew this Ironborn raid wouldn't be the last—those raiders believing in the Drowned God were like the tide, always coming back when least expected.
"Lord Mallister," Daemon spoke, voice weary, "reinforce the walls, repair the Booming Tower. Next time the bell rings, we may not be here."
Jason Mallister nodded solemnly. "Rest assured, Prince. Men of House Mallister will guard Seagard to the death."
The Cannibal suddenly let out a low moan, rubbing his head against Daemon's arm. Daemon looked down to stroke the black dragon's scales. The brand on his right shoulder wasn't hot anymore but left a strange numbness.
He looked up at the dawn sky, as if able to see the direction of the Iron Islands, where longships hidden in mist awaited the signal for the next raid.
The smoke of Seagard gradually dispersed in the morning light, leaving only the broken walls of the Booming Tower and charred longship wreckage, like a silent monument carving this tragic clash of dragonfire and Ironborn.
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