Melisandre had achieved her goal. A rare smile spread across her beautiful face. "Of course, Your Majesty."
Now that he had decided to abandon Storm's End and lead his army north, Stannis acted with the speed he was famous for. He immediately ordered his soldiers to pack all remaining supplies. He then commanded Ser Davos to mobilize every warship, preparing to sail for the Great Wall of Despair.
Stannis was finished with being besieged in Storm's End by the combined Lannister and Tyrell forces. His army had suffered heavy losses, and his ships were badly damaged. He knew, with bitter certainty, that he could not defeat Tywin Lannister on his own.
This was why he was willing to listen to Melisandre. He would abandon his ancestral home and go north.
His plan was to join the Starks and the northern lords. He hoped that, as the one true king, he could win their support, regroup his forces, and finally strike back from the North.
The port was chaos.
"Quickly, keep up! Get on the ships!" "You fools, don't break the line! Line up!"
Stannis's officers shouted and cursed, struggling to maintain order as the soldiers frantically boarded the vessels. It was impossible to load tens of thousands of men, their horses, and all their supplies onto the ships in a short time.
Stannis stood at the bow of his flagship, staring at the chaotic docks with a cold, hard expression.
Ser Davos walked onto the deck, holding a torch against the darkness. He saluted his king. "Your Majesty, the Queen and the Princess are safely on board. The enemy army outside the castle hasn't made a move. For now, everything is quiet."
In the dark, Stannis looked back at the massive shadow of Storm's End, the Baratheon castle where he had grown up. He felt a sharp pang of sadness, but he let none of it show on his face. He would not appear weak.
He simply nodded at Davos's report.
He looked at his fleet commander, the "Onion Knight" he had raised from a common smuggler to a noble lord.
"Tell the men still in the castle to board as quickly as possible," Stannis ordered, his voice calm. "And have all ships pull up their anchors. The moment the enemy spots us, we set sail north. Immediately."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Davos said, his expression grim. He understood the unspoken order. If the enemy attacked, any soldiers still on the shore would be left behind. Only the gods knew what would happen to them.
Fortunately, the Lannister and Tyrell armies were wary of a trap in the dark and did not attack. Stannis managed to get his army onto the ships and escape Storm's End.
The next morning, when Ser Kevan Lannister discovered that Stannis had fled, he immediately ordered the royal fleet to give chase.
However, the royal fleet captains were unfamiliar with the treacherous currents of Shipbreaker Bay. Davos, who knew these waters better than any man alive, quickly left them far behind.
Unable to do anything, Kevan Lannister sent a raven to his brother, Lord Tywin, in King's Landing, informing him of the escape and asking for new orders.
Across the Narrow Sea, on the continent of Essos, Daenerys Targaryen was facing a new crisis.
She had finally crushed the rebellions in Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor, and was now in full control of the three great cities of Slaver's Bay.
At the same time, her bond with her dragons had grown. She could now communicate with them, to a degree, and the largest, the black dragon Drogon, was no longer as wild. He was beginning to obey her commands.
With three giant dragons, now grown to over 20 meters in length, the 17-year-old queen felt a new surge of confidence. She couldn't help but think of her brother Viserys's lifelong wish: to sail back to Westeros and retake the Iron Throne that belonged to House Targaryen.
But before Daenerys could even begin to plan her return, her city of Meereen was surrounded by tens of thousands of Dothraki warriors.
When Daenerys conquered Slaver's Bay, she had abolished the slave trade. This single act had shattered the Dothraki economy. The Dothraki were nomads who lived by raiding and fighting. Their most important loot—captives—had always been the largest source of new slaves for Slaver's Bay. Selling these captives brought them immense wealth.
Now, their captives were worthless.
The Khals of the Dothraki tribes were furious. More than ten Khals had united their khalasars, gathering an army of 100,000 riders to surround Meereen.
They had two demands. First, they wanted Slaver's Bay to resume the slave trade. Second, they wanted to break through Meereen's walls, sack the city, and capture Daenerys. Their plan was to take Drogo's former Khaleesi to Vaes Dothrak, where she "belonged," to live out her days with the other widows in the Dosh Khaleen.
"Your Majesty, there are too many of them. We must defend the city," said Ser Barristan Selmy. The Lord Commander of her Queensguard had a heavy expression on his old face. "The Dothraki are horse warriors, not soldiers. They are not good at sieging a city. If we just hold the walls, they will eventually run out of food and be forced to withdraw."
Daenerys stood on the high terrace of the Great Pyramid, her hands gripping the stone wall. She looked out at the endless sea of Dothraki tents and felt her heart sink.
Even her lover, Daario Naharis, was shaken by the sight. "He's right, My Queen. We can't fight them in an open field. These barbarians are born on horseback. Your army is all infantry. They would cut us to pieces."
Daario was worried she would do something impulsive. "Just as Ser Barristan said, we have to stay behind the walls. They can't get in. Victory will be ours in the end."
"So we just hide?" Daenerys said, her voice tight with frustration. She was deeply dissatisfied with their advice. "We just hide behind our walls and bet that they can't get in?"
Ser Barristan put his left hand on the hilt of his sword, his face full of embarrassment. "I'm afraid we must, Your Majesty. The number of enemies is simply too large. If we ride out to meet them, we will fail. Please, I beg you to consider this carefully."
Grey Worm, the commander of the Unsullied, stood silently at her right hand. As an Unsullied, he did not need to think. If his Queen gave the order, he would lead his men against 100,000 Dothraki without a moment's hesitation.
Just then, one of her guards approached and bowed low.
"Your Majesty, Ser Jorah Mormont is in the city. He asks to see you. He said he hopes you will forgive the mistakes he made, and allow him to serve you once more."
Hearing that Jorah—the man she had exiled—had returned at this very moment, Daenerys was stunned. After all this time, the burning anger she once felt toward him had faded.
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