Chapter 1200 - 2.15

Nyessor - 01​

At the Prince's words of agreement, Nyessor felt the tension drain out of him. He had felt uncomfortable with this plan from the moment that he had learned of it. But, the Council and more importantly his father had insisted that Prince Aelyx remain in the dark about their true goal of Myr until the campaign was well underway.

"Now, let's talk about compensation." Drawled the young dragon rider.

And just like that the unease that had just been banished returned with a vengeance.

"Compensation?"

Aleyx titled his head, in what Nyessor was certain was mock puzzlement. "At its core, our agreement was quite simple, I help you capture the Myrish Marches and in return, you assist me in the reconquest of the Stepstones. It was an equivalent exchange. If I am going so far as to deliver a Free City to you that rather tilts the scale in your favor, doesn't it?"

"It is not as though you will not gain from the taking Myr. The city would serve as an excellent staging ground for your Stepstones campaign, and it will provide an allied port that is far closer than Pentos or King's Landing."

Nyessor withheld a grimace at his own rather lukewarm response. There was no way around it, Pentos gaining Myr as a client state massively skewed the alliance in the Principality's favor.

"That's true." Aelyx acknowledged with a nod. "Which is why I agreed to the endeavor instead of laughing in your face. That doesn't mean that I'm not going to meet your last-minute renegotiations without my own demands."

Nyessor withheld a sight. These potential demands were exactly why the Council had gone with this strategy of surprise. The hope had been that with Aelyx already embarked on the campaign he would be swept along by the momentum and agree to help take Myr with minimal fuss. Nyessor felt that this plan was the result of a severe misinterpretation of the prince's character. Many mistook his affable nature for weakness. The fact of the matter was that while Aelyx Targaryen rarely saw a point in making mountains of molehills, he was still a Targaryen dragonlord and was absolutely capable of acting the part.

"What are your demands?" He asked.

"Let us start with the simple point first." The prince began. "My share, I would like my share of the indemnity extracted to increase by ten percent." He paused and his eyes narrowed slightly. "And to be clear that is ten percent of the total payment, not ten percent of my initial share."

"That is outrageous," Nyessor sputtered in exaggerated disbelief. "We agreed in a fifty-fifty split."

"An. Entire. Free. City." Aelyx enunciated slowly.

"Fine, I can increase your share by five percent."

"Seven," came the instant counter.

"Agreed."

"So, you have, quite the latitude for negotiations." Aelyx mused.

Nyessor shrugged there was no reason to hide. "The Council was aware that this decision would likely result in renegotiations, so they empowered me to act in their interest."

"And is it binding?" the dragon rider asked his stare heavy. "Because, if I help you take Myr and I find that the Council of Magisters does not consider itself bound by your agreement, the results would be rather … catastrophic."

Nyessor stared into the dark purple eyes of the young man sitting across from him and fought the urge to gulp. Visions of Pentos in flames danced through his mind, as it became startlingly clear that the Targaryen was far more irritated by the Council's double dealings than he had initially shown.

"Yes, of course, my word is binding." He hastened to give his assurances. "The seal to the city is in a trunk in my rooms and the moment we have come to a satisfactory arrangement I will summon a scribe and we will write out an official contract. Then tomorrow it will be witnessed and sealed before all the commanders. You will of course receive one of the copies. "

"Our last agreement was witnessed and sealed as well." The Targaryen pointed out sardonically.

"And we would have kept it," Nyessor said. "If you had refused to take part in the seizure of Myr would have cleaved to our original contract to the letter."

"That's easy to say now that I have already agreed to new terms, of course, if we are unable to come to an agreement here, we may still have cause to see how true your word is."

"So, you have some additional demands, beyond the increase in your share of the gold?"

The prince snorted in amusement. "Of course, I do." He glanced around the solar do you have a map of the Triarchy here?"

"I do," Nyessor confirmed. He grabbed one of the roles of parchment from his desk, and after clearing a space unfurled it.

Aelyx leaned forward in his seat and examined the map. "Could you turn it?" Nyessor fought down a blush of embarrassment and turned the map so that it was sideways between them.

Aelyx stared at the map for a long moment before reaching out and tapping a point on the southern coast of the Sea of Myrth. Nyessor titles his head to read the name of the town the prince had indicated.

"Kylos?" he asked in confusion.

"You are right that Myr would serve as a good staging ground for our Stepstones campaign, Pentos can certainly muster its fleet there. But, if am going to wait two years before starting the invasion I am going to need a place to muster and garrison my army. Kylos is a fairly large town, almost a small city. After we take Myr I want Pentos's support to march south along the coast and seize Kylos."

"You want territory on the mainland." Nyessor quarried, his face carefully blank.

"I don't intend to hold Kylos long term," Aelyx explained. "It is a convenient location because I could still maintain lines of communication with Myr. But, after I take the Stepstones it would be difficult to try and hold territory on the wrong side of Tyrosh."

Nyessor relaxed infinitesimally. The dragon rider's eyes widened and with a sinking feeling, Nyessor realized he had given the game away.

"That's what this is all about." The Targaryen breathed in shock. You are fine with me controlling the Stepstones, especially given the low tolls I have promised you, but you don't want me to have a foothold on the mainland."

Nyessor scoffed, "That's ridiculous." He lied. "Why would the Council worry about you controlling land on the continent?"

"If you are able to turn Myr into a puppet, Pentos will become the effective master of southwestern Essos. But, if I controlled a slice of the coast as well I could expand and eventually go from an ally to a regional rival. Especially if I were to pull Tyrosh into my sphere of influence."

This time Nyessor was able to completely control his reaction. Aelyx's guesses had been essentially correct, although they had fallen short of reaching the greatest concern of the Council of Magisters. That Tyrosh would not simply be dominated by the resurgent Kingdom of the Stepstones but would be outright annexed by it. A dragon rider with control of the Stepstones and Tyrosh as their seat of power could easily become a regional hegemon. The rulers of Pentos had no desire to replace the threat of the Triarchy with the threat of Aelyx Targaryen. Which is why this rather underhanded maneuver had been conceived of. The fear had been if they had requested Myr in the initial negotiation the Targaryen would have demanded dominion over his own Free City. Personally. Nyessor doubted that such a thought had done more than flit its way across Aelyx's mind. Not because, he believed that the prince would shy away from such a project, but because he was realistic enough to recognize the impossibility given the current circumstances. Aelyx was no Aegon the Conquer who'd already controlled the well-developed Blackwater Isles before beginning his Conquest. With the resources Aelyx currently possessed it would not be possible for him to control a city the size of Tyrosh.

Realizing he had been silent for too long, Nyessor replied "I assure you Aelyx, that the sole reason that we did not inform you of the potential change in plans was that the Council was worried about the viability of capturing Myr and a few prominent individuals were afraid that you would see their hesitance as doubting your capabilities.

The Targaryen scoffed in obvious disagreement. But, chose not to press the issue. It was obvious that he was aware Nyessor would never admit the true motivations of the Council. For all that Nyessor had come to consider the prince a friend his first loyalty was to Pentos.

"Anyway, I want Pentoshi support for the capture and occupation of Kylos."

"And what exactly do you mean by support?" Nyessor queried warily.

"Supplies and men."

"It would be troublesome to further extend the time the militia is called up."

Aelyx waved his hand dismissively. "There are multiple free companies in the army, pay their salary for two years and transfer authority to me."

Nyessor frowned this was getting expensive, but he had the authority to effectively promise anything that fell short of conquering Tyrosh. "We will pay the contracts of up to a thousand sellswords in your employ for a period of two years, any free company you recruit beyond that number along with anyone you bring over from Westeros you will have to pay for from your own share of the plunder."

"Fifteen hundred men for two years and the following campaign in the Stepstones, the other terms are acceptable"

"Beyond that, the provided support for your conquest and occupation of the Stepstones will remain unchanged from our previous agreement. But no support will be provided for any further campaigns on the mainland once the islands are secure." Nyessor paused. "At least no support without further negotiations."

"Agreed."

With the rough terms of the renegotiated agreement finished. Nyessor summoned his secretary. Over the next several hours the general and the prince would draft and redraft the new treaty quibbling, over details. As the sun began to set, a final draft was produced and Nyessor tiredly shook hands with the prince, who then departed for the evening

Aelyx - 23​

The door burst open and Artys hurried in a wide grin on his face.

"Have you heard the news?" Artys asked, his voice gleeful.

I looked up from the game of draughts at my fourth captain. "I haven't been told anything today that would make me that excited so I suppose not."

"The armies mustered by Tyrosh and Lys are refusing to march."

That gained Artys the full attention of everyone in the room.

"How do you know that?" Rupert, who was seated across from me, asked.

Some of our outriders came on a manse that hadn't been abandoned the owner passed on the news.

"He came out to meet them?" Daeron asked skeptically.

"No, he shouted it down from the wall in exchange for a guarantee that he would remain unmolested. Not that he needed to. From what I heard the place is so well fortified that we would have needed Vhagar or a third of the army to take it."

That wasn't surprising. While many of the rural manses lacked the opulence of their urban counterparts they were equally if not better fortified, and far more extensive with many of the compounds containing what was effectively a small village within their walls. A patricos who was outside the direct path of the army might very well feel secure simply shutting the gates and hunkering down until the storm passed.

I waved my hand ending the tangent before it could truly begin. "So, what exactly did he say?" I asked.

Artys turned his gaze away from Daeron. "The sellsword companies in both armies have either deserted or are refusing to march against us so long as you and Vhagar remain with the army. They claim that their contracts obligate them to fight for the Triarchy but not to commit suicide."

Rupert snorted. "I can't say I blame them for that, there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and facing a dragon in the field leaves it in the dust."

"As for the rest of the armies, the militiamen are also refusing to move. Loyalty to the Triarchy doesn't run quite as deep as loyalty to the city and many of the contingents are swearing up and down that while they are ready to die for Tyrosh or Lys respectively they don't see why they should shed blood in defense of Myr."

That was …. unsurprising. The internal stability of the Triarchy had always been a rather delicate thing, as was demonstrated by the collapsing dominoes set off by the Battle of the Gullet in another world. The impetus for the state's formation had been the aggression of Volantis, a polity that the Three Daughters could defeat while working in concert. The revelation of their combined power had held them together, but now faced with an enemy they could not defeat, the old factionalism was quick to rear its head.

"As for the slave soldiers, the Tyroshi had to suppress a riot in their ranks. It's not exactly a promising start when you have to cut down or crucify a fifth of your force before even getting a whiff of the enemy."

"What caused the riot?" I inquired curiously.

"They got news of the poor saps who the Myrish had working the ballista at the Battle of Sebal. Apparently, they didn't fancy getting burned to death by you or ridden down if they very sensibly turned and ran."

While the Unsullied were the most famous example, slave soldiers were common in all the Free Cities except for Braavos, Pentos, and Lorath. Braavos lacked them for obvious reasons, while Pentos and Lorath had long ago learned that when your regional rival was an abolitionist power, slave soldiers were not a particularly good idea.

"They are falling apart already," I said with a grin. "When we march on Kylos we'll only have to worry about the Tyroshi, there won't be a Lyseni in sight."

Sounds of agreement emerged from the other men in the room.

"If you are so certain that the Triarchy will collapse, why don't we march on Tyrosh itself? Between the sellswords Pentos is paying for, all the men we will bring over from Westeros throughout the next two years, and of course Vhagar, we will have enough men to take the city." It was Daeron who voiced the question. Glancing between my three subordinates I saw that neither Rupert nor Artos was surprised by the inquiry. The topic had undoubtedly been on all of their minds since I had informed them of the new deal that I had struck with Pentos, and it was likely they had already discussed the issue among themselves.

"You mean aside from the fact that we would need a navy to take the city and the Pentoshi certainly are not about to offer?"

"Aside, from that," Daeron confirmed, his amusement clear.

"Well to start, it wouldn't be just be Tyrosh, we would have to conquer. It would be all of the mainland territory as well."

"Of course," said Rupert. "There would not be much point in taking the city if the entire place starves, because we can't feed it. But, I see where you are going with this. It isn't enough to just raise the men necessary to hold the city, even with Vhagar, we would need a fairly substantial army to enforce our will over Tyrosh, the Stepstones, and a large slice of the peninsular."

"Aegon didn't have a large army, and he took seven kingdoms, well six." Artos objected.

Daeron grimaced thoughtfully. "True but all Aegon really did was another layer of governance. Everyone knew that he his dragons could destroy any uprising against him, but besides collecting taxes and enforcing the King's Peace he left all the kingdoms to their own devices. It wasn't until the Conciliator that the Seven Kingdoms were bound together into a unified entity, rather than a collection of states held together by a warlord."

That was something of an exaggeration, but it wasn't entirely wrong either.

"And it is not as though we can do the same thing in Tyrosh." I put in.

"Couldn't you just declare yourself Archon of Tyrosh and take over the old system?" Artos pressed his point.

"Expect it would not be the old system," mused Rupert, "after all if we were to take the Tyrosh, I assume we would free all slaves."

"Of course," I confirmed. My companions and I could stomach working alongside slaveowners, but ruling over a slave state would be a bridge too far.

"So even if we did take Tyrosh our options would be to disrupt the status quo as little as possible, which none of us could countenance, or to destroy the social order, which would make ruling it virtually impossible." Artos summarized.

"Would freeing the slaves cause that much disruption? After all, they would certainly be loyal to those that freed them and the slaves outnumber the freeborn, we could use them to control the country" Dareon asked, his tone considering.

"I think so, yes," I responded. "When it comes to freeing the slaves, we essentially have two options. We can simply declare the slaves free and that they now must be paid for their labor or we can seek to destroy the slaveholding nobility of the city root and branch. The first option is barely better than allowing them to remain slaves. We can pass all the laws we want, but the fact will remain the old guard will maintain power over their former slaves and functionally treat them little different than they did before. So, then you would have a population of former slaves who aren't loyal to us, both because we have done little materially to change their circumstances and because they see us working with their former enslavers, and we would still be resented by all the freeborn who see us as foreign conquerors, who are upending their way of life. We lack the numbers to enforce the law without the cooperation of the local elite."

"Then we destroy the local elite," Daeron said, as though that conclusion was simple and obvious.

"And replace them, with what?" I asked. "We need a nobility to govern."

That brought a round of grimaces.

"We could replace them with Westerosi knights and lords." Artos offered hesitantly. "We all followed you here because we had no chance of inheriting anything in Westeros. We could bundle up all the estates into lordships and parcel them out."

"That might work for the mainland, and even then, dotting tiny garrisons throughout the countryside where they do not speak the language and the former rulers are actively hostile would be a delicate task and not one that could be accomplished without significant upheaval" Rupert opinioned. "But, the true wealth of Tyrosh comes from its merchant princes, and I am not certain about the rest of you but I am not particularly confident in my ability to manage a textile empire seized from a local magister."

"We could raise up some of the slaves to take over the properties of their former masters." Offered Artos.

"Yes, because spending their entire life chained to a loom would somehow run a transcontinental trade network," Daeron muttered sarcastically.

"You're the one who suggested dispossessing the magisters in the first place." Artos snipped back.

"At least I'm trying to think of a solution of a solution." Daeron enough.

"Enough," I said raising my voice slightly.

The burgeoning argument was cut off, as my three captains turned their attention to me.

"Ultimately, it does not matter why we will not attempt to take Tyrosh. I could tell you that King Viserys' gave his tacit support to the endeavor only so long as I limited my conquests to the domain claimed by my father. I could tell you that I believe that a conquest and mass emancipation would plunge the entire region into famine and economic depression. I could even tell you that we will not conquer Tyrosh because I don't want the headache of trying to govern the city. All that matters to you is that I am telling you that we are not taking the city. The matter is closed unless I decide to reopen it."

I fixed my gaze on each of them in turn waiting until they nodded, before I looked to the next. When they had all signaled their understanding, I leaned back in my seat.

"Now if anyone wishes to discuss our upcoming siege of Myr I would be happy to address that."

A/N: If you are wondering why they were so quick to dismiss redistributing the business to the slaves and didn't even suggest granting land to free slaves, remember that they guys are Westerosi nobility. The slaves in their minds are basically smallfolk, sure they agree that they shouldn't be enslaved but they are not about to suggest handing them estates or massive businesses. In short, they might be anti-slavery but they are still really classist.

Aelyx - 24

​"There it is girl," I murmured patting Vhagar's side as we flew over Myr. It had taken four months, one battle, and an assassination attempt but our army had finally arrived at the northernmost of the Three Daughters. The sound of hundreds of bells ringing drifted up from below, as the denizens of the city frantically spread the news of my arrival. I wondered what exactly their plan was. We had not been approached by a delegation from Myr on our march south from Sebal. No offers, of surrender, or even parlay. Did they intend to fight it out? Surely, they could recognize that such a course of action was futile unless they were banking on my unwillingness to burn an entire city. I would indeed balk at such a course of action, killing soldiers was one thing, burning tens of thousands of civilians was another, but basing your survival off your opponent's hypothetical moral scruples would be the height of foolishness.

I supposed that in the end, it didn't matter. One way or another Myr would fall within the week. Whether said fall was the result of a violent sacking or orderly occupation would be entirely in the hands of the Myrish. Atop the walls, I could see small figures hurrying to man the dozens of ballistae mounted there. These engines were much larger than the field pieces that had been present at Sebal, and had since been added to our siege train. Most would remain in the hands of the Pentoshi but I had requisitioned several for my company's push towards Kylos. Despite their larger size, I was not worried about the engines below. Their accuracy was no better than their smaller counterparts and there was no way they could elevate themselves enough to shoot at my current position.

It took mere moments to fly over the entire of the city, blanketing whole blocks in shadow as we did. As we approached the harbor, I flicked the reigns and Vhagar lazily banked toward the right, so that we could begin another pass over the bustling metropolis.

"Come on girl let's give them a show," I said, patting her flank. At my command, the dragon let loose a defining roar followed by a blazing stream of fire. The flames were released harmlessly into the sky rather than being directed down towards the city, the message, however, was clear. Surrender or burn. For the next half an hour Vhagar and I flew back and forth over the city. Every few minutes she released a roar and lit up the sky. When I felt that the citizenry had been sufficiently terrorized I turned Vhagar's head towards the northeast and began the flight back towards the army.

When I spotted the army, I was surprised to see that the column was already beginning to set up camp, I had not realized that I had been gone for so long. The encampment was about half a day's march from Myr, I had gotten rather good at translating distances on dragons back to the distances an army could move over the past three months. The decision to encamp at this location had been made two days ago when it had been worked out that our normal marching speed would see us reach Myr at dusk today. We had instead made the decision to cut today's march short so that when the soldiers arrived outside the walls of the city tomorrow, they would both be well rested and there would be plenty of daylight left to begin the construction of siege works. Furthermore, the distance also meant that if the Myrish attempted to sally out for a night attack on the camp they would almost certainly be spotted before they came anywhere close to our picket line.

I circled the camp twice, the action serving as a signal to those on the ground that I intended to land and was not merely performing a flyover. I waited for several more minutes before I spotted a small body of men exit the northern edge of the camp and hurry to an open patch of ground. It was only then that I landed. The constant escort was annoying but the dull pain in my back that flared at any serious exertion was a stark reminder of their necessity.

I climbed down from Vhagar, and was greeted by Maren Bosa, the nephew of the man who had led the charge against the assassins that I had not managed to cut down. While most of my guard had been drawn from my men, or the Prince's Company as it had come to be known several Pentoshi had volunteered for the duty, and after careful vetting been accepted. The three and twenty Maren had joined and as a favor to his uncle been appointed leader of one of the shifts. The Pentoshi guild master had made no secret about the fact that he hoped to use the spoils gained in this campaign to elevate himself, possibly even becoming an estate owner. Placing his nephew in my inner circle, or at least close to it, was a transparent ploy to develop ties with the as-of-yet theoretical Kingdom of the Stepstones. It was not as though I was upset by this maneuvering, it was just how the game was played, and the Bosa family now had a vested interest in keeping me alive.

"How was your flight, your grace?" Maren asked.

"Excellent," I responded. "If the Myrish were not panicking before, they certainly are now."

My remark brought satisfied chuckles from the guards.

"And the harbor?" Maren questioned, his voice taking on a more serious cast.

"No sign of the fleet," I told him with a grimace.

The Triarchy's armada was the wildcard in all of this. The armies of Lys and Tyrosh were both holding their position within their own lands and refusing to advance so long as Vhagar and I remained afield. While, the forces that Myr had not lost to death, capture, or desertion had been pulled behind the walls of the city or scattered in towns and forts throughout the south of the city-state. I suspected that those garrisons were eyeing the Lyseni and Tyroshi at the border with almost as much trepidation as our march on Myr. Twenty years of cooperation did not erase generations of warfare, and few would delude themselves into believing that if Myr collapsed Lys and Tyrosh would not be among the first of the vultures to pick over its carcass.

The fleet, however, was still in the wind and had been since war was declared. Over the past moons, we had received reports from merchant vessels and fishing boats claiming to have seen it. But those reports were usually days old by the time they reached Pentos and weeks old when they caught up to the army. The blockade of Pentos that many had feared had never materialized, nor had the coastline been raided. Some speculated that the fleet had been paralyzed by the same mutinies and desertions that plagued their counterparts on land. Others speculated that they were biding their time as part of a larger plan, waiting until our army was entrenched in siege lines around Myr before making their move on Pentos.

However, for all that it was concerning, the actions of the Three Daughters' fleet would ultimately be irrelevant. It did not matter if they managed to destroy the Pentoshi fleet or light fire to the coast. There was little they could do to prevent the fall of Myr. I supposed if they somehow managed to storm Pentos itself and hold the city hostage we would be forced to sound the retreat. But taking a city of that size by invading through the docks with no land support was quite frankly impossible or at least borderline so. No, the missing fleet was worrisome, but the actual outcome of this campaign would be decided here.

I rolled the possibilities over in my mind as I led my procession of guards through the half-finished camp. I nodded greetings to the various important personages, who were overseeing the work. The command tent at the center had of course been the first to be raised, and it was there that I made my way now. As the guards saw me approaching one stuck his head into the tent and announced my presence. As soon as he received an affirmation he turned back towards me singling that I was free to enter. I brushed past the guards drawing half bows of respect from the four. I strolled into the tent and flashed a grin to the commanders assembled there.

"Well, the Myrish know that we are here."

Aelyx - 25

​Our party of ten rode across the rolling plains surrounding the Free City of Myr. I was in front, with General Essar to my right. Behind us rode our standard bearers. Ser Denys Brune carried a banner adorned with the sigil my father had adopted after granting the City Watch of King's Landing their golden cloaks; the traditional red Targaryen dragon was outlined with golden scales and set on a field of black trimmed with golden flames. I wondered if he would alter the sigil once Aegon the Elder began flying his golden dragon. I certainly would be, Behind Essar one of the notables of Pentos carried a banner depicting three of the city's famous block towers. We were followed by six more men, three of mine and three of his. While they were guards their selection had not been random, having been chosen for their prowess, discretion, and of course status. All of mine were anointed knights, while each of Essar's belonged to families allied to his own.

I could make out our opposites a few hundred yards in front of us. If they had kept to the terms of the agreement passed back and forth between the army and the city through a series of couriers over the past day there would be ten of them. A quick headcount of the Myrish horsemen seemed to indicate that they had. I turned my attention to the grass, scanning it for concealed troops. We might have been out of range of bowshot from the walls, but I would not put it past the Myrish to attempt a decapitation strike, they had already attempted to assassinate me once after all. It was this fear that had led us to imply to the Myrish that I would not be joining these preliminary negotiations when they were being arranged. Indeed, several of the Pentoshi commanders had suggested that I remain at camp, or in the sky on Vhagar rather than exposing myself to danger. I had of course refused, reminding them that I had little reason to trust them to accurately relay the details of any agreement they struck with Pentos given their previous duplicity. Although, I had couched my words, in a much politer manner.

We began to slow our horses as we approached the midpoint between the city walls and our battle lines. The two groups stopped ten feet away from one another, close enough that we could converse without raising our voices but far enough that we could react to any sudden movements. Like us, they were carrying two banners. One showed the silver ship of Myr cresting over a wave and the other the three men of the Triarchy. I turned my attention to the delegates themselves. They were lavishly attired in flowing bright cloaks and gilded and engraved armor, the most brilliantly attired were a pair of older men in the front who I assumed to be the ambassadors. The faces of the leaders could have been carved from granite for all that they gave away, but their younger escorts showed no such restraint, and Essar and I found ourselves the subject of eight hateful gazes.

For a long moment, nothing was said as the two parties waited for the other to begin the conversation. As the silence stretched on, I fought the urge to fidget, it probably hadn't been more than five minutes since this impromptu starring match began but it felt much longer. Eventually, the lips of one of the Myrish leaders twitched minutely down and he raised his hand gesturing towards the man carrying the banner of Myr.

The standard carrier cleared his and then began speaking in a booming voice that rolled across the plains.

"I present to you Magister Thoryoros of the Vynyl, seatholder on the Great Council of Myr and Captain of the Walls, and Belyllo of the Fororis, seatholder on the High Council of the Triarchy.

As the Myrish ended their introductions Essar tilted his head back towards his standard bearer.

"And I present to you, Patricos Neyssor of the Essar, General of the Grand Army of Pentos, and Prince Aelyx of House Targaryen, rider of Vhagar and Regent of the Kingdom of the Stepstones and Narrow Sea.

As soon as our herald finished, Magister Vynyl objected.

"Myr does not recognize the Kingdom of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones."

"Nor does the Triarchy as a whole," Magister Fororis added.

"You will soon enough," I drawled, in an attempt to goad a reaction from the two. Unfortunately, the Myrish Magisters were too experienced for that, and the provocation did nothing but draw a warning glance from Essar.

I shrugged minutely in response to his wordless admonishment. It was not as though I had shown our hand, they had to know that recognition of my father's and by extension my claim to the Stepstones would be among our demands.

"Does it truly matter, what title he claims? Prince Aelyx is before your gates atop a dragon, is it not a little late to be arguing about semantics" Essar remarked.

The two Myrish delegates leaned over in their saddles and put their heads together, exchanging a quick series of whispers before breaking apart.

"We will acknowledge Prince Aelyx in his capacity as a member of the Targaryens of Westeros and as the nephew of King Viserys but not as a Prince of the Stepstones." Magister Fororis proclaimed.

I cocked an eyebrow at that, before dipping my head in acceptance. It was, I supposed, an elegant solution as it allowed them to hurry on the negotiations by giving me the royal styling I claimed without implicitly ceding the Triarchy's claim to the Stepstones.

"Now," began Magister Vynyl began. "As you have so crudely stated General Essar, you are at our city's door with an army and a dragon. What are your demands."

"Well in the short term, we would like you to surrender the city." Said Essar. "In a broader sense, we expect you to cede the Northern Marches, withdraw from the Triarchy or dissolve the alliance altogether we are not picky on that sore, pay an indemnity for all the trouble, and finally acknowledge House Targaryen of Bloodstone as the rightful overlords of the Stepstones."

At that, their façade finally cracked and the eyes of the two delegates widened while angry muttering emerged from their guard.

"Are you mad?" cried Vynyl.

"What did you expect," I drawled. "You are losing this war quite decisively, and from what we have heard your little alliance is already collapsing."

"Decisively, is a rather strong word." Vynyl bit out, visibly reining in his emotions.

"We have destroyed your army and accepted the submission of a dozen of your towns. It seems rather obvious to me." I said, spreading my hands to indicate the current state of affairs.

"And we have shattered your fleet," Fororis announced.

I froze.

"Or did you not know," Fororis asked wearing a devious smile. He twisted in the saddle the saddle. "Bring it up." He called.

A man in the back rode forward, and as he pushed to the front, I realized that the fabric that I had originally taken for ornamentation, draped over the front of his horse, was a banner, twin to the one that flew behind Essar.

"Your fleet was defeated a week ago, smashed apart in the Bay of Tyral, and sent running back to the safety of Pentos." Fororis proclaimed triumphantly.

We watched in grim silence as the guard untied the tattered standard from his pommel and tossed it into the dirt, where it landed between the two dirt. Everyone on our side stared at it for a long moment, while the Myrish basked in our uncertainty. Finally, Essar broke the silence.

"So, what?"

That clearly caught them off guard. "So, what!" Vynyl sputtered indigently. "Your fleet is in ruins."

"And what does that really change, your army is gone, your allies have all but abandoned you and we are about to lay siege to your city."

"And how do you propose to lay besiege one of the largest ports in the world without a navel blockade." Fororis sneered.

I let out a bark of laughter. "Who needs a navy when you have a dragon that can burn any ship that comes within ten miles of the city."

"And do you intend to remain atop your beast night and day, interdicting every vessel that approaches the harbor?" Fororis questioned mockingly.

"I won't have to," I pointed out with more than a little smugness. "When men learn that dragon fire awaits those who approach Myr, how many men will make the trip? Oh, some might try and make the run under the cover of dark. But will that be enough to feed a city of nearly a million?" I was right and they knew it. If the continuous supply of grain that kept the city fed was disrupted it would not be long before starvation set in. They could delay it by dipping into their winter stores, but those could only last so long.

"If we go hungry so will you." Vynyl reasoned. "You are a long way from Pentos and without your fleet to supply you, how long will it be before your army starts to starve before our walls?"

In most circumstances he would be right, sieges were often as dangerous for the besiegers as the besieged.

"That simply incentivizes us to work faster. The Vhagar could clear the walls of your soldiers with ease, and make way for our army to take the city sword in hand. A great city of Essos has not been put to sack since the Dothraki boiled over the Bone Mountains, don't worry though I'm sure our men will be a little more civilized than the horse lords." I paused, before continuing in a much darker tone. "Or I could just commit your entire city to flame. You can't exactly object to the seizure of Myrish lands if there is no more Myr."

"You wouldn't," breathed Vynyl, horror painted across his features.

I met his eyes with a hard stare, and he quickly glanced away.

"He's bluffing," scoffed Fororis. "There is no way his uncle let him so far off the leash as to give him leave to destroy an entire Free City."

"Try me," I spat.

Before the Myrish could respond Essar cut in.

"Well, I believe that this had been a productive first meeting. We will be expecting a response to our demands by," he glanced up at the sun, "midday tomorrow." And with that, he flicked his reigns and turned his horse heading back to our lines at a brisk trot.

I lingered long enough to grace our enemies with a final smile that could never be called friendly before following him.

"Rember, submission or fire," I called over my shoulder as I rode away.

Aelyx - 26

​The meeting today was very different from the one that had occurred yesterday. Rather than a handful of horsemen hurling demands and insults in the middle of the field, these negotiations were a proper banquet. The Pentoshi had produced a massive pavilion, along with a plethora of rich carpets, intricately carved furniture, and feasting vessels of gold and silver, some of which had been hauled all the way from Pentos, while the rest had been looted from various towns and villages during the march. It was as if a small section of the area between the walls of Myr and the army had been turned into a cloth palace.

I lounged within the shade of the massive tent, leaning back in my chair. I took a small sip from my goblet. The pitchers that my side of the table was drinking from had been significantly more watered down than those designated for Myrish negotiators, just as the food they would be served aired on the side of just too salty. They were old tricks but were still in use for a reason. Essar sat by my side. The seating arrangement had been the result of considerable debate. Under normal circumstances, Essar would sit at the center of the table with his chief lieutenants flanking him on the right and left and then continuing on in both directions in descending order of importance. I had of course refused to be placed in a subordinate position, even by implication if not by word. Ultimately, it had been decided that Essar and I would sit slightly off-center, presenting ourselves as equal. I had also agreed to allow Essar to do the majority of the speaking. This had been much less of an imposition as the Pentoshi were making much larger material demands of Myr than I was. I had, however, privately let him know that if I felt he was allowing the tribute demanded to slip too far down in exchange for other concessions I would weigh in.

As the sun crawled higher into the sky the mood in the tent began to turn restless. However, the moment midday was reached a trumpet from within the city sounded and the gates swung open.

"Cheeky bastards." Muttered a man to my left. He was right, the Myrish had waited until the last possible moment to meet Essar's deadline. A procession exited the city. Fifty men rode sedately out of the gates and across the plains towards our assemblage. Twelve of them would be actual negotiators representing the great families of the city. The rest would be guards and attendants. Not that the guards would do them any good if we took against them. Unlike yesterday we were far closer to our army, rather than meeting them midway, a clear show of who held the advantage in these negotiations.

After what seemed like an eternity the Myrish delegates finally arrived at the pavilion. They dismounted and their horses were collected. I felt my lips quirk into a smile as I noticed several of them shift I discomfort as their only mode of escape was led away. Their herald stepped forward and began to announce the councilors one by one. Five of them belonged to the Great Council of Myr or the Eleven as they were informally known, three were members of the High Council of the Triarchy, and the remaining four were Magisters who held important offices within the city. As the introductions dragged on, I realized that while Thoryoros Vynyl was present Belyllo Fororis was nowhere to be found.

As I examined the Myrish Magisters closely I noticed that one was favoring his left side, while another was attempting to keep his weight off his right foot, and a third was concealing a bandage on his left wrist. It appeared as though there had been a spot of internecine violence within Myr. Given Fororis's belligerence during our prior negotiations, it was not hard to guess what the fighting had been over. Hopefully, the apparent purging of the hawks would make these negotiations run relatively smoothly.

I was rather impressed, men of their status did not usually directly dirty their hands with political killing, however, their injuries indicated that they had been involved in a brawl. I wondered if the fighting had been spontaneous or if they just hadn't had anyone who they trusted or could get close enough to perform the assassination.

There was no posturing this time while waiting for the other side to begin negotiations. The Myrish had played their only card yesterday with the revelation of our fleet's defeat and received our scoffing reaction. Now all they could do was see how far they could mitigate the damage and secure favorable terms before I made good on my threat to make Harrenhall seem like a pleasant campfire.

Magister Dario Sorritas opened the conversation.

"The Great Council of Myr, is willing to provisionally offer our city's surrender, however, we have several concerns that must be addressed before we can fully commit to such a course of action."

"Oh," asked Essar, idly playing with his gem-encrusted goblet. "I believe that we made our position clear yesterday."

"You did," Sorritas said. "However, several of your demands were rather concerning and we were hoping you could clarify their details." The Myrman gave the practiced smile of a politician. "We are both reasonable men and I believe that we could come to an accommodation that leaves all parties satisfied.

Essar let out a snort. "You are on the losing side of a war; you are not supposed to be satisfied." His tone bordered on contemptuousness. "However, if you wish for clarification then I will be happy to provide it. First Myr shall withdraw from and disavow the alliance known as the Triarchy."

That received nods from all of the Myrish delegates.

"Of course," said Sooitas. "We would have done so even if you had not requested it. The actions of Lys and Tyrosh have made it clear that this alliance has run its course."

It took everything I had not to burst into laughter. When I had first considered crossing the Narrow Sea I had decided that I would consider the expedition a success so long as the Triarchy was destroyed, regardless of whether or not I conquered the Stepstones. A year of effort and the dissolution of the Triarchy was treated as a matter of course.

I listened with half an ear to the continuing discussion as they moved on to discussing what lands would be transferred to Pentos. I considered the ramifications of this victory. With the original plan to launch an immediate invasion of the Stepstones delayed I could use the next two years to develop my connections in Westeros. The Velaryons were of course already tightly bound to me, but I could build on my rapport with Borros Baratheon to induce him to invest in the Stepstones project. A Stormlands tied to my own kingdom would need far more inducement than marriage to a second son to rise for the Greens.

I was brought back to reality as the issue of the border was temporarily tabled with both parties having gotten a feel for what the other wanted and hoped for. That was, after all, the primary purpose of this first day. Very things would be decided on, but all the players would get a feel for the other side's bargaining position, what they were willing to bend on, and what they wouldn't or couldn't.

Essar turned to me. "I believe that Prince Aelyx has a few demands of his own."

I trailed my eyes over the assembled delegates. "As part of your withdrawal from the Triarchy, you will also proclaim that you do not inherit any of the territorial claims possessed by that entity. You will also foreswear any claims to the Stepstones possessed by The Republic of Myr that predate the formation of the Triarchy. In addition, you will acknowledge The Kingdom of the Stepstones and Narrow Sea as the rightful overlord of the islands commonly known as the Stepstones, excluding the islands Tyrosh and Little Tyrosh, you will also acknowledge my father Daemon Targaryen as the rightful sovereign of said kingdom."

As had undoubtedly been expected, these demands were met with little reaction from the Myrish. Ceding a claim to a territory they did not possess was hardly onerous, especially when placed beside the Pentoshi demands. Besides, everyone at the table knew, that if I ever faltered and Myr was in a position to take advantage, the disavowal would be summarily disregarded at the claims resurrected, that was just how things went. I did note a few minor expressions of surprise when I named Daemon rather than myself as the sovereign of the Stepstones.

"Once you have formally recognized the Kingdom you will also seek to pay reparations to House Targaryen of Bloodstone and House Velaryon of Driftmark for the damages incurred during the campaign of piracy that you funded in an effort to drive them from the Steptstone."

Now that set the cat among the pigeons, as many of the Myrish delegates made to protest. Several of them denied the fact that they had been responsible for the piracy, while others clamored that they had been conducting a defensive war and thus could not be held responsible for the damages inflicted on would-be conquerors.

I leaned back in my chair, satisfied. That little maneuver had been preplanned last night, and sometime over the next few days, I would graciously lower the amount of reparations I demanded, in turn for a higher tribute payment to our alliance as a whole, which I was of course getting a percentage of anyways.

Essar took advantage of my demand for compensation to inject his own.

"And of course, Pentos will also require a significant payment in coin or precious metal for the trouble that we have been forced to go to in order to defend our southern border." He said smiling like a shark.

Aelyx - 27

​Five moons after departing from Pentos our army marched through the gates of Myr. I rode beside Essar at the head of a column of men, five thousand strong. Glancing to either side I was stuck by the sturdiness of the architecture. It was not the fused black rock that was the most commonly associated with Valyrian buildings, but even the Forty Families at their height had not possessed infinite wealth, and as far as I knew the inner walls of Volantis and the wall of Valyria itself were the only occasions were the dragon lords had deigned to surround an entire city in that magical stone. Despite that, the stonework was still far superior to that of its counterpart gates in King's Landing.

As we emerged from that gate's tunnel and into the city my attention was pulled from the masonry to the crowds lining the streets. My hands tightened minutely the reigns as I took in their mood, it was sullen and ugly. Our march into their city was a humiliation they would not soon forget. I wondered how many of them had lost family at Sebal or were refugees who had fled for the safety of Myr's walls in the face of our advance. I forced my hand to unclench, for all of their anger I had little to fear. I was wearing half plate and was surrounded by dozens of soldiers, no angry citizen with a knife was going to get close. Nor was an ambush or assassination attempt, from the city's magisters a concern. The two hundred hostages cooling their heels back in the camp were insurance against that.

The city had officially surrendered early this morning after ten days of negotiations. The terms had been harsh for Myr. The Free City would be ceding most of its northern dependencies to Pentos, it would also undertake the payment of one million golden marks, colloquially known as golden ships, which would be split between myself and Pentos, and finally, it would transfer the ownership of fifteen warships to me. In addition to the material losses, the city had been forced to accept the presence of a Pentoshi garrison and was forbidden from hiring Free Companies or signing foreign treaties without permission from Pentos. Finally, Myr would also withdraw from and denounce the Triarchy, while acknowledging my family as the rightful rulers of the Stepstones. In return for being reduced to what was effectively a Pentoshi protectorate, Pentos and the House Targaryen of Bloodstone had both pledged to defend the sanctity of Myr's borders and allowed the city to maintain its internal autonomy to elect members to its Council and otherwise conduct its interior affairs. Of course, the latter term was a rather disingenuous one, given the presence of the Pentoshi garrison within the city, which would intervene in any actions of which they did not approve. I had a distinct feeling that over the next few moons, a number of unequal trade deals would be signed between the two cities.

I felt my mouth curl into a smirk as I remembered the barely restrained rage that had gripped the Myrish Magisters as they had affixed the city's seal to the treaty. It was funny, for all that I had grown up amidst my father's battles with the Triarchy I did not feel any particular animosity towards any of the Three Daughters. I did not even feel much anger for the assassination attempt. I had been leading an invading army and a blade in the night was the best way to kill a dragon rider, I didn't take it personally. Despite that, there was a deep satisfaction that came with seeing the enemy against which you had matched your might, forced into submission.

The oppressive anger that seemed to blanket the whole city, made me wonder how long Pentos would be able to hold onto their new conquest. Annexing a few border towns was one thing, but attempting to permanently project power over a city the same size as their own would be no easy feat. The shattering of their army and harsh terms of the surrender might keep Myr down for the next few years, but I suspected that Pentos would be dealing with a bloody rising within the next decade. I mentally shrugged dismissing the thought. That was far in the future and so long as Pentos kept their bargain to assist me in the Stepstones I cared little for how well or how long they maintained their control of Myr.

Like most of the great Valyrian colonies, the entire city was oriented around a massive palatial complex at the center. And it was towards that grand citadel that we now made our way. Before the Doom, it had been the residence of the governor and his household, and the center of administration for the entire province. After the fall of Valyria the citizens of Myr had stormed the building and executed the governor along with his whole family and most bureaucrats. In the aftermath, the building continued in the same role, with the officials being replaced by native-born Myrish and the governor's living quarters being converted into a series of private offices for the Council. These days the only people who lived there permanently were slaves.

As we approached the citadel's outer wall, I saw the sunlight glinting off the polished spears and armor of the men at the gate. I gave them a closer inspection and gave a start when I recognized the conical helmets of the guardsmen; Unsullied. I leaned over in the saddle and pointed them out to Essar. I received a snort in return.

"Not impressed?" I asked confused. Everything I had heard in this life indicated that the eunuchs were considered some of the most formidable soldiers in the world, and my memories of the books pointed to the same.

"How many are there?" He responded.

I looked back at the gate at the then guards. After a moment it clicked in my mind.

"Ahh"

"Exactly," he said. "The Unsullied are only effective when there are enough of them to form their phalanx. When they are out of formation, their physical weakness quickly becomes apparent. That," he said nodding at the gate, "is a flaunting of wealth with little thought to practicality."

When we reached the gate and the Unsullied, a brilliantly attired man stepped out of the small gatehouse. We reigned to a stop and stared him down. He glared back at us, working his jaw in anger. He swung around to the slave soldiers and barked out a sharp order. One of the Unsullied, with two spikes on his helmet, rapped the but of his spear against the gate. From the inside, I could hear the sound of the gate being unbarred. The massive doors swung open, and I was greeted with the sight of several more Unsullied standing at the beginning of a long path that led to the entrance of the palace proper.

This was the end of our public parade. Essar raised his hand and clenched his fist. Behind us, the long column of men split apart. The various contingents of the army would make their way to various strong points within the city and establish themselves there. Those points include the blockhouses used by the city watch, the eight gatehouses, and various buildings of political, cultural, and economic significance. These next few hours where our army was split across the city, but not yet entrenched, would be when we were at our most vulnerable. I reminded myself once again of the hostages we held and the fact that we already controlled one of the city gates and the half of our army still camped outside the wall would storm through it at the first sign that anything had gone wrong.

I spurred my horse back into motion and rode into the palace courtyard alongside Essar. We rode up the path, to the grand staircase at the entrance of the palace. At the bottom of those steps stood the Grand Council of Myr, or at least the seven who had survived the infighting, along with thirty other members of magisterial families. I had been told that an emergency election would be held soon to fill the gaps in their ranks. Personally, I felt as though 'election' was a rather generous term for what would occur when a deeply corrupt oligarchy under foreign military occupation filled the governmental positions that had been vacated when the previous occupants had been murdered by the people overseeing the new vote. But, I kept that opinion to myself. After all, I was an aspiring warlord, so it was not as though I had much room to talk.

When we reached the entrance to the palace we dismounted. Immediately a dozen slaves rushed forward and took the horses. As our horses were led away the men at the base of the stairs watched us, while we gazed calmly back.

The treaty had already been signed this morning. What would occur next was purely ceremonial, although we had generously allowed it to happen in this enclosed space, rather than the city's main square. As one the seven councilmen sank to their knees.

"General Essar, Prince Aelyx ... Myr is yours."

Aelyx - 28

​The rooms were a hive of activity, as Westrosi, Pentoshi, and recently freed Myrish slaves scurried about. I had claimed the manse of one of the Magisters who had been murdered as my headquarters, and it was from there that I began to plan my next steps. I had considered placing myself in the Consular Palace, but as the city still needed to be administered it would have been a pointless display of power that left everyone, including me, inconvenienced. For help with the planning, I had recruited two dozen secretaries and clerks who had been left adrift following the sudden demise of their masters. Under normal circumstances, they would have been claimed by their former master's next of kin, or whoever could make the most convincing argument in the courts. But, I had swooped in and offered them their freedom in exchange for their service in my upcoming campaign. There had been protests from the Myrish Council, but my Pentoshi compatriots had barely stopped in their own looting long enough to dismiss said complaints. I had gotten some side eyes from the Pentoshi for freeing and paying the slaves, but they shrugged it off as a Westrosi eccentricity. So long as men and I did not try and enforce our anti-slavery beliefs on them, they could care less about what I did.

I'd turned the massive dining hall into the war room, and it was there that I now stood at the center of the chaos. On the table, was a map of the Three Daughters and the Disputed Lands. I frowned at it tracing the path from Myr down the coastline to Kylos. For the first half of the march, we would be in Myrish territory, which was not exactly friendly but was no longer at war with us. Which meant that we would be able to draw supplies from the towns in the region. However, once we swung west, we would cross into Tyroshi holdings and be subsequently bereft of supplies. I wouldn't be able to rely on the well-developed supply chain that the army had been able to utilize during the advance on Myr. I wasn't worried about the Tyroshi field army, Sebal had already proved that there was little that an enemy could do once I was atop Vhagar. But, the supply and manpower problem was a vexing issue. I couldn't ignore the fact that I would be operating with a much smaller force on this campaign. Nor could I afford to disperse my men into garrisons the same way that Essar had done with his Free and Indentured Companies. I would have to force symbolic submissions and tributes from the towns I passed before I arrived at Kylos. The campaign would be a blitz. A few months to get to Kylos and seize it, followed by a few more months of consolidations to ensure that I controlled enough of the city to feed the populace and my army, and then roughly a year and a half to prepare for the invasion of the Stepstones.

Luckily, part of my agreement with Essar, in exchange for my assistance in seizing Myr meant I would not have to pay my army for the next two years. Which was a relief, nothing would drain my recently acquired wealth faster than having to pay a standing army. And over the last few months, I had approached several Free Companies. So far, the Red Wanders, the Bold Men, and the Gyrfalcons had signed with me. I had also begun negotiations with the Pentoshi militia and managed to recruit around six hundred of them into an Indentured Company. All told I had scrapped together two thousand men for my drive into Tyroshi territories. Once we took Kylos and secured the harbor I could begin bringing in men from Westeros. This would serve the dual purpose of phasing out the sellswords, as I had no desire to retain them for long-term contracts after the conquest of the Stepstones and hopefully tie me closer to the Seven Kingdoms. While I had drawn most of my initial force from Crownlands and would continue to recruit there, I intended to bring in more men from the Stormlands. Outside of Dorne, the Stormlands were the closest kingdom in Westeros to the Stepstones and I hoped to deepen relations between myself and the storm lords.

I barely glanced up as one of my men hurried into the room, messengers had been coming in and out continuously over the past few days. He hurried straight to me.

"Your Grace."

"Yes." I paused mentally groping for his name "Benard."

"We have received word from the harbor Myrish fleet has returned.

That got my attention. The fleet had been a loose end amidst the Myrish surrender as it was still out to see after having won a victory over the Pentoshi armada.

Different rumors had swirled through the streets every day as fishing boats came into the harbor bringing wild and often contradictory news. Some claimed that the Triarchy fleet had dissolved into infighting following Myr's surrender. Others maintained that the Myrish admiral had sailed to the Stepstones or the Basilisk Isles to make himself a pirate king. Still, others whispered that the fleet had retreated to Tyrosh with its most prominent captains declaring themselves the true Grand Council and forming a government in exile.

"You," I said to Benard. "Follow me."

"You," I snapped my fingers and pointed at a Clawman I had been using as a courier. "Find Rupert and tell him to meet me at the top of the tower with a far-eye. As for the rest of you, keep working, and if any more news comes send it on to the tower."

With that, I spun on my heel and strode from the room, walking as quickly as I could without making it apparent that I was in a hurry. I wanted to see the fleet but there was no need to cause excitement or undercut my own dignity. I made my way to the southeastern corner of the house. In a few short minutes, I arrived at a spiraling stone staircase and began to climb it. I could hear Bernard begin to huff behind me as we ascended higher before we eventually reached the open top. This tower was the reason that I had chosen to make my headquarters in this manse. It was over two hundred feet tall and had been the vanity project of the grandfather of the previous occupant. When it was combined with the hill the estate sat on top of, the tower provided an unobstructed view of most of the city, including the harbor.

I brought my hand to my brow, shielding my eyes from the ferocious midday sun. I squinted down at the harbor and could just make out a large collection of ships, strung out through the bay and making their way into the harbor. It was too far to make out any details. After a few moments, I heard footsteps behind me. Rupert appeared at my elbow holding a far-eye in each hand, all of my officers now possessed one of their own. He passed me one of the far-eye and raised his own to his eye. I peered through the lens and took in the returning fleet. I carefully examined the docks where the first of the ships were beginning to make land, before sweeping out over those who were still at sea. I frowned.

"There are too few," I said.

I knew how many ships had been in that fleet when it set out. Even if you accounted for losses taken during the battle, there should still be far more.

Rupert frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps they hit a storm."

"I don't see any storm damage though," I responded. "Do you?"

For the next half turn of the hourglass, we watched the fleet trickle into the harbor and traded ideas about the reason for its much-reduced size. Eventually, we were joined by Daeron, who came bearing news directly from the newly arrived ships.

"What is happening," I asked.

Daeron grimaced. "After defeating our forces the Triarchy's fleet parked themselves in a cove and sent out a courier ship to Myr. When it returned the captain brought news that Lys and Tyrosh were not moving their armies against us. That caused a major falling out between the different elements in the fleet and the Tyroshi and Lyseni tried slipping away in the middle of the night. They were spotted and there was something of a brawl in the dark. It's not clear how many got away, but they presumably fled back to their home city."

Rupert cut in at that. "We expected the ships belonging to the other two daughters would depart, but they only made up a third of the fleet. Their leaving doesn't explain how few ships we are seeing."

I nodded in agreement, that was true. When our army had begun to mass at Pentos, both Lys and Pentos had sent squadrons of ships to reinforce Myr. But the majority of the fleet that had set out into the Bay Myrth had been Myrish.

Daeron sent us both an annoyed look. "I was getting there. After that little skirmish, the fleet began to sail back towards Myr. However, before they arrived they were met by a ship that told them that the city had surrendered. The fleet halted and the admiral held a council with the senior captains. Eventually, he announced his intention to lead the fleet to the Stepstones." He frowned. "It's unclear whether he means to style himself as the true government of Myr or simply make himself a pirate king. About half the ships followed him, the remainder are what we see here."

I blinked taking that information in.

"Well, that could complicate things."

Aelyx -29

​"This doesn't change anything," said Essar casting his gaze around the room.

I arched my eyebrows. "Really?" I drawled. "Because I distinctly remember being promised a fleet to aid in my campaign in the Stepstones. And your fleet got itself cut to pieces and now the ships that you were planning on impressing to make up for your losses have taken off to play pirate lord in the Stepstones."

"Some of the Myrish fleet did return," offered one of Essar's aides tentatively.

I sent him a scathing glance. "Ten of those ships belong to me and the number of ships under my command has no bearing on Pentos's obligation to me."

"Besides, we actually do need to leave Myr with some ships for protection, especially since they are going to be dealing with a sudden surge of piracy in the Narrow Sea," Daeron added from his position beside me.

I grimaced, but it was a good point. Turning Myr into a Pentoshi protectorate would be pointless if the city collapsed into economic turmoil. Besides, Myr needed to maintain its flow of trade if I wanted it to be paid what I was owed. After all, I was supposed to receive six hundred thousand golden ships from Myr, an amount which they would not be able to produce even if they scrapped the city treasury bare, handed over everything they had seized in the purge, and beggared themselves. In all honesty, I doubted that there were six hundred thousand golden marks in the entire city, it was not after all a coin used during everyday transactions. Instead, I would receive some of the payment in installments spread out over the next few years.

"Peace," Essar said stopping the brewing argument in its tracks. "Pentos well understands the obligations that it owes to the prince. Prince Aelyx, you have my personal word of honor that not only will the city begin immediately constructing new ships to replace our losses we will also ensure that the vessels will be built within the next two years and the invasion of the Stepstones will take place as scheduled."

That was a bold proclamation to make. Essar might have been given broad discretion by the Pentoshi Council to keep me happy in our alliance, but ceding a portion of the tribute payment was different than committing the city to a rapid and intense building program. I blinked as realization struck.

Armies in the Free Cities were not usually led by men as young as Nyessor Essar, instead, they were commanded by long-established members of the various magisterial councils, there were exemptions as I knew a few Volantine armies had been led by the younger relative of a Triarch, but the rule by and large held true. And yet, Nyessor was here in the field commanding rather than his father, who sat on the Council, to achieve that the family would have had to burn through more political capital than would have been required if the elder Essar had been granted command. Open reflection the reasoning was obvious. Nyessor's role in commanding the army that captured Myr would greatly boost the stock of his family, but in the constantly shifting politics of a Free City, any advantages gained could evaporate while he was stuck overseeing the occupation. Unless of course, his father remained in Pentos ready to turn his son's accolades into political gains. Mentally I upgraded Nyessor from a powerful member of Pentos's oligarchy to the heir of the man I now suspected would soon rule Pentos in all but name.

That revelation brought a little annoyance, I did not appreciate being used to boost the stock of the Essar family without my knowledge. But it did the greater scheme of things it did not matter. I was not overly concerned with the internal politics of Pentos so long as they stayed internal.

I was pulled from my ruminations by a slight nudge from Daeron, under the table and I realized that everyone was watching me and waiting for my opinion.

"The loss of the Myrish ships is unfortunate, but so long as Pentos is still willing and able to commit themselves to the campaign in the Stepstones in two years I cannot see how continuing this discussion is productive."

Murmurs of agreement came from the Pentoshi, they were very aware of what would occur if they were not willing and able to continue with the planned invasion.

"Now," I continued. "I believe that we should get to the real purpose of this meeting, and discuss the problem posed by the missing fleet is actually doing."

At that, Essar nodded to one of his aides who began speaking. "According to our most recent reports Admiral Arero Fylariss arrived in the Stepstones roughly two weeks ago. Once there he proceeded to lead his fleet against Bloodstone and stormed the island."

I stiffened at that. Bloodstone was the largest of the islands and Fylariss basing himself there made sense, and yet I could not see it as anything but a deliberate insult.

"Those that surrendered were impressed into his force, while the self-styled King of the Stepstones was drawn and quartered."

"So, he does intend to crown himself," I said, the symbolism was obvious.

"He did crown himself," replied Essar. "But not as king."

"What then?"

"He is styling himself as the Archon of Myr"

"But there is no Archon of Myr." Jaremy Darkwood objected in confusion, speaking for the first time.

I leaned over. "Before the Doom, all the Valyrian colonies except for Volantis were ruled by Archons appointed by the Forty Families. These days most Westerosi texts translate it as governor to distinguish it from the modern Archon of Tyrosh." I explained quickly to my Captain of Foot.

I turned my attention back to the table at large. "He is obviously setting himself up as the head of the Myrish government in exile, the sole head judging by the title. This means in the long term he wants to retake Myr, but do we know what he wants to do in the immediate future."

"We don't," said Essar, his mouth twisting with displeasure. "Our most recent information comes from a few of the impressed pirates who were able to slip away on a fishing boat, they were in turn picked up by a captain from Hell's Rock who decided that we might pay for the information. So, we know what happened, but Fylariss and his men were not exactly sharing information with their unwilling recruits."

"That makes sense," I acknowledged. "Given his actions though, he is presumably planning on staying on Bloodstone. If he wants to play at being a warlord, he will presumably start working to bring the other islands under his control. He certainly has the men and ships for a campaign."

"But, he doesn't have a supply base." A Pentoshi officer pointed out. "Every man that dies, every blade that shatters, every rope that frays, that a resource he can't easily replace. He will need to turn pirate or acquire a backer to fund his fleet even if all he does is sit on Bloodstone."

I hummed thoughtfully, fleets were absolute money pits and needed a constant stream of revenue to keep floating. That was even more true in Stepstones which lacked the navel infrastructure that most port cities had. My father and the Sea Snake had planned to develop those facilities using toll revenue, but the plans had come to naught with my father's abandonment of the enterprise. Quite frankly I was surprised Corlys still associated with my father given the amount of money he had lost during that war.

"When I march south I will lean on Tyrosh and Lys to ensure that they do not even think about supporting Fylariss. Volantis is still singed from their war with the Triarchy and if they make any moves in the immediate future they will direct their attention towards Lys, not the Stepstones. Which leaves Dorne as his only potential backer. If they choose to involve themselves in the Stepstones again I will deal with it."

"And if he turns to piracy?" Asked Essar.

I shrugged. "If he remains on Bloodstone his forces will slowly disintegrate as his captains strike out on their own. In that case, we will sweep him up with the rest of the pirate nests. If he actually tries to take the islands, we can just let him bleed. Who knows he might even end up doing most of our job for us and two years from now we will just have one enemy to fight instead of a dozen little fleets to uproot."

Essar nodded thoughtfully. "So, you have no intention of changing your plans, despite this complication."

"I do not, I confirmed. We will be marching out a moon from now. We just need to finish organizing the Indenture Companies and integrate the men who should be arriving from the Crownlands in the next week are two. After that is south to Kylos"

With that settled the meeting turned to the minutia of occupation as we worked through the various issues that had emerged as we attempted to simultaneously rule and plunder the city while also building a collaborationist government.

Aelyx - 30

​When I arrived in Pentos a year ago, I had commanded three hundred men and been deeply in debt to House Velaryon. Now I marched south from Myr with over two thousand and was richer than all but the highest of Westerosi lords. In addition to swelling in size, the composition of my army had changed. Where my original force had been entirely composed of Westrosi, the column that now marched beneath Vhagar's shadow was three-quarters Essosi. It was a diverse collection, I had with me my original three hundred minus a few dozen lost to accident or disease, another two hundred and fifty raised and brought across the Narrow Sea by Corwyn Corbray or recruited in Myr, several Free Companies whose contracts I had picked up once it became clear that Pentos did not intend to retain them for garrison duty, and two Indentured Companies, one raised from among the militia that had campaigned with us and the other from the Pentoshi borderlands.

I frowned as I reached the front of the column and directed Vhagar to turn to fly back towards the rear. Circling the army like this was rather boring. I wanted to range further afield as I had done during the march on Myr, but as I was now the sole commander of the army below, I could not risk straying too far in case there was an emergency. That thought brought to mind another problem that I would have to deal with. None of the commanders of the individual contingents in my army were senior enough for me to place in command when I was away. Neither Rupert nor Corwyn were of high enough status for the Sellsword Captains or Pentoshi notables to take orders from. Conversely, the Westerosi would have chaffed at being placed under the command of Essosi and though they currently made up the smallest contingent of my army, they formed its backbone and were the most reliable element. In addition, I did not trust any of the Essosi enough to hand them control of my entire army.

In the end, I had retained Rupert as the commander of the men of Westeros, with Corwyn being elevated to second in command, replacing Daeron, who had remained behind in Myr as my ambassador. Bracho Nesteris, the commander of the Gyrfalcons had been placed in overall command of the Free Companies as the Gyrfalcons were the largest of the three. Finally, Lyselos Aenaan was named senior captain of the two indenture companies, both because his company had been raised from among the veterans of the Myrish campaign and because he was a maternal relation of Essar.

I could probably have put Nesteris or Aenaan in command of all the Essosi contingents, but that would have left either with control over too large a portion of the force. Instead, I was left with this somewhat unwieldy triumvirate system. It was not too much of a problem, after all, I was still the overall commander, but I was worried about what would happen if I had to separate from the army during combat or was incapacitated again. Right now, we were operating on a rotating system of 'marching captains', but I knew that I would have to establish a system for combat before we crossed the border into Tyrosh.

I continued to turn the problem over in my head, but I could not come up with a solution beyond ignoring the potential issues and acknowledging Rupert as my second-in-command and overall captain in my absence. It would ruffle a lot of feathers, but at the end of the day, I was a prince and dragonlord. I snorted in derision, shaking my head. Perhaps I was just being paranoid; the men below were professionals and semi-professionals under contract, and so long as I did not try and force them to do something suicidal or worse, withhold their pay, they would follow my lead.

The hours slipped away as I was lost in my contemplations and before I knew it, the sun was hanging low in the sky, and the army beneath me had come to a halt. I circled above several times before landing. The guardsmen that gathered around me now consisted of not only Westerosi and Pentoshi but also several Myrish freedmen. Essar had to been unwilling to allow the Myrish to maintain their contingents of slave soldiers but had been unsure of what to do with them besides a mass slaughter. At my suggestion, most of them had been transformed into indentured servants and would serve as part of the garrison of Myr for the next five years, at which point they would receive a full manumission. The sole exceptions were the Unsullied in the city who had been quietly killed in a series of short but bloody fights and the hundred or so who I had directly recruited into my company.

I had been worried about potential friction between the freedmen and the rest of my army which is why I had tried to recruit those who claimed Westrosi ancestry and had some grasp of Andalic. It seemed to have worked, and most of my personal troops seemed to regard them as long-lost cousins. The Pentoshi were similarly non-pulsed; manumission was fairly common in the Free Cities, with slaves managing to buy their freedom or favored individuals being released. There was a social stigma that came with being a freedman, but by the same token, they were viewed very differently than those still in bondage. It would probably be different if I started preaching mass emancipation, but this was simply seen as defanging a conquered foe.

The upshot of all of that was that I now had a body of men who owed their freedom to me and thus were even more loyal than my original Westerosi troops, who were bound to me by contract rather than generationally reinforced oaths of service.

When I arrived at my tent, I was met by Rupert, Bracho, and Lyselos. The clawman knight, a Pentoshi guild master, and a Volantine sellsword the three made quite the picture.

"Nothing has changed I told them. Our way remains clear of obstruction, and we should cross the border into Tyrosh within the next two days."

"And what of Zarnosh?" Asked Bracho, referencing the fortress town that sat at the mouth of the small river that marked the administrative boundary before Myr and Tyrosh established when the Triarchy was formed.

"I put them in Vhagar's shadow. With two days to stew in their fear, I am certain they will be ready to surrender by the time we arrive."

Lyselos smirked. "That was likely unnecessary. The towns of the Disputed Lands are pragmatic by necessity. Before the formation of the Triarchy Zarnosh changed hands every decade. Surrenduring to a conquering army is fairly routine for them."

"It helps that we can assure them that they won't be too badly plundered." Rupert put in.

I hummed in agreement. While a little extortion was to be expected, and we would certainly leave the Zarnosh treasury and food stores lighter than when we had found them Zarnosh would not be subjected to a general sack and a large portion of the army's supplies were being carried on the Pentoshi flotilla that would rendezvous with us in the port.

"From Zarnosh we can continue on to Kylos, and from there," I shrugged, "it will depend on how Tyrosh reacts to us ripping away a chunk of their northern coastline."

Rupert scoffed. "They have made it clear that they are going to do nothing but hunker down and hope they survive the storm."

Bracho nodded in agreement. "Given the fate of Myr, they will likely see have a strip of coast occupied for a few years as merciful, do whatever they can to ensure your army leaves their lands as soon as possible while wreaking as little devastation as possible."

Had we simply been moving through the area, I might have been tempted to strip it bare, but since we would be lingering in the region for the next few years, we needed to leave it somewhat intact. Despite my newfound wealth, money would soon be an issue again as I expanded my forces and began to construct infrastructure after my conquest. A large pool of hard currency was all well and good, but eventually, I would need a stable base that could continue generating coin rather than seeing it slip away into the bottomless money sink that was an army. That thought brought to mind the question that I had been toying with since I had first conceived of this campaign: could an independent Kingdom of the Stepstones survive without any mainland territory?

Neither my father nor Lord Corlys had attempted to gain such a foothold, but the Rogue Prince was not known for long-term strategic thinking, and the Sea Snake had seen the campaign as an opportunity to clear out pirate nests and establish a network of toll stations rather than a true exercise in state building. If I did decide to go that route, I would need to be careful; my erstwhile in Pentos would panic if they realized I was trying to establish a permeant foothold on the mainland, as would the court in King's Landing. For now, I would need to play my cards close to my chest, although there was no harm in laying groundwork for future consolidations.

Setting the musing of empire aside, I returned my attention to the discussion at hand.