Inside the castle-like tent, the lamps burned brightly.
Perhaps there were simply too many candles, but everyone felt the heat becoming stifling.
The dragon-hunting crossbows waiting to be fired stood around them like the bristling fur of startled beasts.
The atmosphere inside the tent was somewhat gloomy.
Although it was filled with lords and nobles, every one of them looked as miserable as persimmons after a frost.
Their troubled faces could have used Freygo sailing his smiling flagship straight into the tent to lighten the mood.
"Although the Volantene fleet suffered heavy losses, more than a hundred thousand soldiers still remain.
Combined with our army of more than two hundred thousand, we still have more than enough strength to besiege Gohor."
Braavos had lost at least four hundred warships in the battle.
Freygo had understood from the beginning that there could only be one victor between them and the Targaryens.
One side would have to bow its head.
The situation was certainly terrible, but it had not yet reached the point of no return.
Viserys's position as an enemy of the entire world remained unchanged.
After hearing Freygo's words through the translators, the lords of Westeros expressed their agreement.
"I suggest that we change our tactics.
The Targaryen army has its back against the mountains, and our own forces cannot properly deploy either.
We could detach some soldiers to search for weak points in their defenses and seize the nearby high ground first, gradually compressing Viserys's battlefield."
Brynden Tully offered his suggestion.
It was undeniably a good idea.
There was only one problem: The cost of supplying the army would rise dramatically.
Braavos was certainly wealthy, but even Freygo felt the pain of providing logistical support for two hundred and fifty thousand soldiers.
"We could also consider replacing the wooden panels on the shield carts with stone slabs."
Tywin had been impressed by the power of the longbowmen and had become wary of them.
At the same time, he found himself wishing he possessed such a force of longbowmen.
If Casterly Rock had an army like that, then the Rock would truly be "never fallen."
"I really don't know where the Targaryens got so much wildfire," Greatjon complained.
Everyone instinctively looked toward Jurt, the High Priest of R'hllor in Braavos.
"Viserys can make wildfire himself!"
Jurt hurriedly defended himself, and by extension, the red priests.
"But he is only one man. How could one man produce enough wildfire to burn an entire fleet?"
The defeat had begun to breed suspicion within the coalition.
The divine power of R'hllor was particularly unsettling to many of them.
Quite a few were already thinking that once the Targaryens were dealt with, they would cast the red priests aside.
Robert unconsciously touched Lightbringer at his waist.
The sword gleamed brilliantly, yet it gave off no warmth whatsoever.
"It was Aerys."
A somewhat hoarse and helpless voice suddenly reached everyone's ears.
They all turned toward Jaime, who was standing beside Robert.
"It was Aerys.
He planned to burn King's Landing with wildfire, but I didn't know where the wildfire itself had been stored, so I could only kill the pyromancers.
After the Battle of the Gullet, some of the pyromancers fled to Dragonstone, but Viserys killed them all."
Everyone understood immediately.
Most likely, Viserys had already known that King's Landing possessed enormous reserves of wildfire at the time.
Then, through his spies, he had gradually stolen it away.
"Damn the Mad King. He's dead, yet he still refuses to leave us in peace," Cregan muttered.
His eyes flicked toward his liege, Eddard.
Eddard's father had also been named Cregan.
Aerys had burned him alive.
Now Viserys had used wildfire to win another great victory.
The Targaryens always seemed to have fire at the heart of their victories.
If they ruled the Seven Kingdoms again, the lords had no idea how much more fire they would have to endure.
Eddard said nothing.
He merely felt that something about all of this was wrong.
After the translator relayed Jaime's explanation, Freygo felt a headache coming on.
It seemed he had been saddled with a group of incompetent allies.
Viserys had somehow removed so much wildfire from King's Landing, and they had not noticed a thing.
But when Freygo thought about the people of King's Landing, who were probably praying for the Targaryens to return to their rightful city, his frustration eased somewhat.
Regardless, all they needed to do now was proceed cautiously and steadily.
Victory would still belong to them.
"Perhaps we should attack Pentos first," Freygo suggested.
At the beginning, when the situation had looked overwhelmingly favorable, they had decided to seize the Velvet Mountains and completely cut off the Targaryens' escape routes.
Viserys had sent his army north specifically to prevent Robert and Freygo's forces from interfering while he destroyed their combined fleet.
Now that the immediate threat to Gohor had been lifted, Freygo saw little point in continuing the assault on the Velvet Mountains.
It would be better to attack Pentos first.
After taking Pentos, they could cross the Lower Rhoyne and besiege Gohor directly.
More importantly, this would greatly reduce their logistical burden.
Their supply route would change from land to sea, greatly increasing its efficiency.
"I agree."
Although Braavos had sent part of its fleet elsewhere, they still maintained naval superiority.
One after another, the others voiced their agreement.
Just as they finished discussing the attack on Pentos, a thunderous roar suddenly shook the heavens.
It sounded as though the very roof of the tent might be torn away.
A blond squire came rushing inside in a panic. He was moving so quickly that he even stumbled and nearly fell.
"Dragons! It's a dragon!"
The lords stared at the squire in confusion.
How could Viserys's dragons be capable of producing such a terrifying roar?
"Stop panicking! What happened? Speak clearly!"
Tywin demanded impatiently.
"A silver dragon! And a green one! They can swallow a warhorse in a single bite!"
A dragon capable of swallowing a horse in one bite?!
A chill ran from the backs of their necks straight down their spines.
After all, in their minds, Viserys's dragons were small enough that a few archers could deal with them.
Not long ago, almost all of them had personally watched one of the small dragons circle above their heads.
"Everyone, disperse! Get back to your own camps!"
Freygo shouted.
If the dragons really were as enormous as the squire claimed, remaining here could result in every one of them being wiped out at once.
The moment word spread that dragons had arrived, the lords immediately began shoving and jostling one another.
Greatjon and his son, whose shoulders were as broad as a door, forced their way through the crowd to clear a path for Eddard.
Several elderly or shorter nobles nearly ended up trampled beneath everyone's feet.
To escape faster, some men even drew their swords and simply slashed through the tent canvas before crawling outside.
Jaime led Robert and Tywin out through the rear of the tent almost immediately.
To shorten their route, Jaime cut through the canvas with his sword.
Unfortunately, that section of the tent bore the flaming-heart emblem of the Lord of Light.
The three men crawled out of the tent.
The moment they raised their heads, they saw the two enormous dragons in the sky.
The silver dragon, Meraxes, was the most conspicuous against the black night.
Its outstretched body descended from above like the gallows of divine judgment.
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