Chapter 94: The Silent Storm
"The harvest is pretty good today, Old Jack." The fishermen of Shipbreaker Bay excitedly held up the large fish they had just pulled from the water. Several fishing boats had set sail today, working together to pull a large net.
"Of course." Old Harry inspected the fresh catch. Although Shipbreaker Bay was prone to storms, each storm brought a bountiful harvest to the fishermen, which was a blessing in disguise. "The Mother's mercy, this catch is enough to pay taxes."
"Where's your boy? Haven't seen him for days," another fisherman asked, somewhat puzzled.
"I sent him and my wife south." Old Harry sighed. "The lords are conscripting. If my boy didn't leave quickly, he'd never escape. Going south offers some hope. I heard that the prince's workshops and city construction sites in the south are hiring. Skilled workers can earn quite a few copper coins a week. The construction sites also provide food, black bread without stones, and strong beer."
"Oh, by the way, did you see the fire in the sky last Sunday?"
"I saw it, I saw it." Old Harry still shivered at the memory. At that time, to gather travel expenses for his child and wife to go south, he had risked the storm to fish and happened to witness the dragon battle in the storm. "It scared this old man to death. It flew past like a mountain in a flash, and half the sky was red as hell. If I hadn't been quick and rowed away, I probably would have…"
"Wait, that's right. So, the place where the fire appeared that day…"
Old Harry suddenly realized, "It was this very sea area." Just then, the sky gradually darkened again. "Let's head back." Another old fisherman with a white beard looked at the sky. Today's catch was good enough; there was no need to risk fishing in a storm.
Several boats slowly approached the shore, dragging the large net. A few fishermen strained to pull the net onto the land; it was heavy. "So heavy! Looks like another big harvest." Old Harry rubbed his hands with delight. "Everyone, pull hard, pull hard."
The fishermen grunted and groaned, pulling the large net from the sea. "Seven Hells, what is this?!" Several fishermen fell to the ground almost simultaneously.
"Devil, devil." An old fisherman tremblingly pointed at the broken dragon corpse in the net. Old Jack, being well-traveled, had seen dragons hunting at sea and immediately rushed over to cover the old fisherman's mouth. "Don't talk nonsense, this is a dragon—"
Before he finished speaking, a terrifying dragon roar came from behind the hillside. A golden dragon swooped down like lightning, landing steadily beside the terrified fishermen who were paralyzed on the ground. Queen Rhaenyra leaped from the dragon's back and cautiously walked toward the broken dragon corpse in the net. The fishermen were so scared they didn't dare to breathe. Syrax glanced at the fishermen and roared toward the sky.
Another dragon roar responded to its cry. Silverwing also descended from the sky. The dragon, far larger than Syrax, landed on the other side. Prince Valarr, wearing Valyrian steel armor, rushed over without stopping, casually tossing a money pouch to the fishermen.
Old Harry tremblingly opened the bag, and the dazzling golden light instantly made him tighten the opening.
"Take it and share it among yourselves. Don't say a single word about what you saw today." Valarr's voice was low, as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. He watched Queen Rhaenyra kneel before the fishing net, frantically digging through the dragon corpse, finally pulling out the small, bloated body that had been soaked in seawater, and watched her cry uncontrollably while tightly embracing the equally broken body.
Syrax was also wailing. Valarr quietly walked to the Queen's side and bowed his head, mourning for his fallen squire. After a long while, the Queen finally looked up, her face tear-streaked, and reached out to untie the straps on Lucerys's dragon saddle. "I want to take him home."
"Your Majesty, Prince Lucerys died as a true dragonrider." Valarr said through gritted teeth, "I should have knighted him immediately. Damn Aemond…"
"Prince Valarr." Rhaenyra laboriously placed Lucerys's body on Syrax's back, wiping away her tears. Her entire face was streaked with seawater and mud. "I apologize for making you witness such a sight."
"If it were me, I would be even more furious than you." Valarr clenched his fists. "When do we march on King's Landing?" He was eager to make Aemond pay the price.
"We need to wait for news from King's Landing, and for your brother to receive the news and return," Queen Rhaenyra said. "Our people haven't sent back news from King's Landing yet. Dragonstone currently only has two dragons capable of fighting, which is still a significant gap compared to the usurper."
"My brother will be back soon." Valarr patted his breastplate. "Dragon Nest City has Ray and his dragon, and my army, so there won't be any problems for now. I will fly to King's Landing with Your Majesty and my brother to make Aemond pay the price."
Rhaenyra nodded heavily. She wanted to say something, but her voice choked. Still, she managed to speak with effort: "Prince Valarr, after discussions with Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, we hope to arrange a betrothal between Princess Rhaena and Prince Ray."
"Who is Rhaena?" Valarr rubbed his head. "Oh, I remember now, Lucerys's betrothed. Baela gets along very well with her. I've seen her a few times; she's a very gentle and obedient girl. But I don't have the final say in this matter. You need to speak with my brother, Your Majesty."
"I understand." Rhaenyra nodded, her tears still sliding down her cheeks, drop by drop. "I originally intended to go to Dragon Nest City myself, but now that you are here, I…"
"I will escort you to Dragonstone." Valarr turned and walked toward Silverwing. "Let the usurper and Aemond pay the price sooner. Dragon Nest City is always open, and our palace welcomes your stay at any time."
Rhaenyra nodded and returned to Syrax's back. She carefully tied Lucerys's body to the front of the dragon saddle before commanding Syrax to take off.
Silverwing followed closely, the two dragons flying away from the beach, one after the other, leaving only a few fishermen dividing the money in the bag.
"I found the dragon, I should get more." The young fisherman snatched the bag, spilling the gold coins onto the ground with a clatter. He bent down and knelt on the ground, counting the coins, muttering to himself.
"What do you mean you found it? Everyone gets a share!" The old fisherman was displeased, pulling his eldest son to frantically grab coins toward their side. Only Old Harry quietly picked up a gold coin and ran, leaving the remaining fishermen scrambling for the coins scattered on the ground. "You dare to steal my money!" A burly fisherman grabbed a fishing spear from the boat and shouted.
"Ah!" A scream made Old Harry pause for a moment, but he continued to run without stopping.
Night and dark clouds gradually enveloped the beach, along with the scattered gold coins and the indelible bloodstains.
North, the Wolfswood.
Longze'er skillfully pierced an elk with a spear, watching the massive creature whimper and fall. Jacaerys deftly cut off the antlers, while the venison was portioned by several mountain clansmen and given to the cooks for roasting. Cregan Stark cut a piece of venison with his knife, chewed it, and then continued, "Prince, this is probably the largest elk in the Wolfswood."
"Whether it is or not, it is our prey today." Longze'er chuckled as he put away his hunting spear. Their alliance efforts in the North had been exceptionally smooth. Perhaps it was the oppressive presence of the two dragons, or perhaps the Northmen were truly so honorable. All the lords of the North had personally come to Winterfell, ready to call their banners and march south as soon as the harvest was complete.
Longze'er promised to continue organizing fleets in winter to purchase grain from Essos for the North and sell it at low prices. Jacaerys also reiterated Queen Alysanne's old promise: the Targaryens would one day wed a Stark, binding ice and fire together.
Just then, Lord Domeric Bolton, with pale eyes, arrived at the camp on a fast horse, his face serious. The young lord leaped from his warhorse and rushed to Cregan's side. "My lord, a letter from Storm's End, and a letter from Harrenhal."
Cregan opened both letters, and his already expressionless face instantly became even colder. He looked up at Longze'er and Prince Jacaerys and silently handed the letters over.
Longze'er closed his eyes after reading them. Jacaerys, somewhat curious, took the letters. After reading them, he too fell into silence, his eyes gradually reddening.
"Very good… very good." Longze'er opened his eyes, cold killing intent flashing within them. "Lucerys did well. Aemond did well… very well."
He immediately stood up. "Jacaerys, we fly to Harrenhal. Duke, forgive us—we cannot remain in the North any longer."
"The North remembers," Cregan Stark said solemnly. "We will march south as soon as we are able."
Longze'er nodded, pulling the shaken Jacaerys toward their dragons.
"Lucerys… he…" Jacaerys choked.
"Lucerys died as a dragonrider." Longze'er mounted Vermithor. "We will answer in fire and blood. Let's go."
The two dragons took off almost at once, flying south.
Duskendale.
Vhagar coldly surveyed the burning town, while Sunfyre gorged itself on dead cattle nearby. Aemond watched Ser Criston Cole force Lord Darklyn to his knees.
Aegon II stood before him and spat. "Traitor."
"You are the traitor… usurper… kinslayer." Darklyn glared. "The crown you wear is stolen."
"Criston—kill him."
The sword fell.
The soldiers of Duskendale slowly knelt.
Aegon smiled again. "Brother, where next?"
Aemond finally spoke:
"Rook's Rest, Your Grace… it is time."
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