High summer had arrived, and the waters of the Rhoyne surged with unstoppable force.
Yet the immense fleet sailing from Volantis cut through the river's current as though the mighty waters themselves had bowed beneath it.
The vast armada advanced relentlessly toward Gohor.
The roaring river seemed to crawl beneath its hulls.
The endless line of warships resembled the scaled body of a colossal beast stalking its prey.
Thousands of sails billowed beneath the wind like gathering storm clouds.
As they filled together, the entire river trembled.
The stench of rotting fish mingled with the acrid smell of powder, while even the reeds along the banks seemed to bend low in fear.
The Upper Rhoyne, the Little Rhoyne, and the Rhoyne itself formed a great Y-shaped waterway.
In less than half a day's sailing, the fleet would reach the point where the two tributaries divided.
From there, they would separate and complete the encirclement of Gohor.
Aboard the flagship, Tormo of Braavos, Malaqo of Volantis, and Grazdan, one of the Wise Masters from Slaver's Bay, gathered for their final war council.
In truth, none of them believed much planning was necessary.
Their fleet numbered nearly two thousand warships.
Its mission was simple: Seize complete control of the Upper Rhoyne and the Little Rhoyne.
Cut off Gohor's water supply.
"We can simply block every canal leading into Gohor with our ships," Tormo proposed.
He had never forgotten how his own army of fifty thousand had been defeated.
Viserys had trapped them by sealing the river.
His soldiers had died of thirst.
"I'd like to see how loyal those peasants remain once they have nothing left to drink."
Gohor's three massive walls were too formidable to assault directly.
None of them intended to waste lives storming the city.
Starving House Targaryen into submission was a far better strategy.
"Shouldn't we send out scouts first?" Grazdan asked cautiously.
His suggestion was politely dismissed.
"My friend." Malaqo swirled the wine in his goblet with a grin. "What in this world could possibly destroy half our fleet?"
Before Grazdan could answer, Malaqo laughed.
"The other half of our fleet."
The joke drew laughter from everyone aboard the flagship.
Having come all the way from Slaver's Bay, Grazdan had naturally been more cautious than the others.
Only now did he realize he had been worrying unnecessarily.
More than seventeen hundred warships.
What tactics were needed?
Simply overwhelm the enemy.
Convinced once more that victory belonged to the true heirs of Valyria, the commanders turned to a far more enjoyable topic.
How they would divide Gohor after the war.
The city's industries.
Its population.
Viserys's treasury.
Those matters could wait. The thing they cared about most...
Was the dragons.
"Only those with the blood of the Dragonlords can ride dragons.
It isn't only the two Targaryen girls who are valuable... The two boys are just as important."
"I wouldn't dismiss the Dowager Queen either."
Tormo added the remark with a shameless, lecherous grin.
The slave masters answered with knowing smiles of their own.
Being nobles merely meant they had unlimited opportunities to indulge their baser desires.
It certainly did not mean they had risen above them.
If anything... Their tastes were even more depraved.
"Do you think we could capture Viserys's dragons alive?" Grazdan asked.
As a Ghiscari, he coveted dragons more than anything.
Slaver's Bay had once been home to the mighty Ghiscari Empire. Yet in every war against Valyria...
They had never achieved a single victory.
That was precisely why, years later, the masters of Astapor had accepted Daenerys's offer to trade Drogon for the Unsullied without hesitation.
"Our objective is to surround Gohor.
When Viserys can no longer endure the siege... He may choose to offer us the dragons himself."
Having settled upon exactly what they intended to extort from House Targaryen, the fleet continued its advance.
They would wait for Robert's signal from the north. Then both offensives would begin simultaneously.
Viserys could not allow Robert to seize the Goosefeather Hills.
If the coalition held the mountain while controlling both rivers... Gohor would be completely trapped.
Yet fighting upon the northern plains of Andalos placed Viserys at a severe numerical disadvantage.
He therefore entrusted Gohor to Clinton's command while leading fifty thousand soldiers north onto the Andalos Plain.
His army established its position with the Goose Hills at its back.
His command tent stood atop one of the lower ridges.
From there, the vast encampment of the Westerosi-Braavosi coalition stretched for miles.
At this time of year, the plains of Andalos should have shimmered with green and gold.
Instead... They had vanished beneath an endless sea of tents and banners.
From the Targaryen position, it almost seemed as though the setting sun had not disappeared below the horizon.
It had been swallowed by the enemy camp.
Even veterans who had survived countless wars found themselves at a loss before such overwhelming numbers.
The only hope seemed to be that the coalition might somehow collapse from within.
Viserys, with his unmatched view from dragonback, understood the disparity even more clearly than anyone else.
The coalition's camp covered nearly eight times the area of his own.
It resembled an entire city that had appeared overnight.
Most prominent among the countless banners were those of the five great houses.
The Braavosi standard bore the image of the Titan of Braavos.
For the first time in their lives...
Two enemies who had never met would soon stand face to face upon foreign soil.
...
Inside his command tent, Viserys looked toward his two nephews with a teasing smile.
"So... Which one of you would dare ride into Robert's camp and meet him?"
Davos glanced around, confirmed no outsiders were present, and wisely chose not to interrupt.
"I'll go, Your Grace," Aegon volunteered immediately.
"Let me go instead," Aemon objected.
"I'm the better swordsman."
"But you're terrible with words."
"I..."
Watching the brothers argue, Viserys burst into laughter.
"Enough."
"As if I'd ever send either of you into Robert's camp."
Both Viserys and Robert wanted more than victory.
They wanted lasting peace.
Had Viserys truly sent Aegon or Aemon as an envoy, Robert himself almost certainly would have honored the laws of parley.
The men of Westeros might be simple in some respects... But most still possessed a strong sense of honor.
Unfortunately...
Robert was surrounded by Braavosi advisers.
They cared little for such customs.
After employing the Faceless Men, would taking a hostage really trouble them?
Viserys still knew nothing of the failed Shadow Assassin ritual.
Turning to the man beside him, he spoke.
"Ser Davos.
I must trouble you with a message.
Tell Robert this:
I invite him to decide this war before both armies. Not merely through battle... But through a trial by combat.
Let the gods themselves judge whether he truly is the Usurper."
___________
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