Chapter 58: Pyrefall, Dark Sister, and the Duchy's New Order
The dark, rippling blade of Dark Sister materialized in Maegor's hand, humming faintly with an ancient, agile energy. This legendary Valyrian steel longsword, once wielded by Targaryen queens and princes, was destined for his First Knight. He found Ser Kaeto Targaryen in the castle courtyard, overseeing the integration of the Blood Wyrms.
"Ser Kaeto," Maegor called, his voice calm, yet resonating with an unspoken significance.
Kaeto turned, his Valyrian eyes sharp. He saw the sword in Maegor's hand and his breath caught. He recognized it immediately. The slender, dark blade, its hilt adorned with the subtle Targaryen dragon.
Maegor walked towards him, the other Royal Guards and Blood Wyrms pausing their drills to watch, sensing the gravity of the moment. He stopped before Kaeto, holding Dark Sister out, hilt first.
"Ser Kaeto Targaryen," Maegor stated, his voice ringing with power, "you are the grandson of Prince Duncan the Small, a blood of the Dragon, and my Lord-Captain, my closest kin. You have been a steadfast companion, my most trusted advisor, and my loyal blade from the very beginning. You are my First Knight of the Dragon. And this blade is a symbol of that unbreakable bond, of our kinship, and of the unique destiny we share."
He pushed the sword firmly into Kaeto's hands. "This is Dark Sister. It belonged to Visenya Targaryen, to Daemon Targaryen, to the fiercest warriors of our House. It is a sword of speed, of precision, of true Valyrian agility. It is a blade forged for a Targaryen, and it is yours. Wield it well, Ser Kaeto. Let it fight alongside Blackfyre, and together, we will burn away our enemies and reclaim our world."
Kaeto took the sword, his hands trembling as they closed around the hilt. The blade felt impossibly light, yet vibrated with power. Tears welled in his eyes – tears of awe, of pride, of a lifetime of hidden identity culminating in this impossible moment. He, a bastard's son, now held a legend. He dropped to one knee, holding the sword before him.
"My King," Kaeto choked out, his voice thick with emotion, "this… this honor… I am unworthy. But I swear it, by my blood and by this blade, I will serve you unto my last breath. Dark Sister will never know a dishonorable day in my hand. For fire and blood!"
"Rise, Ser Kaeto," Maegor commanded, a rare, genuine smile on his face. "You are more than worthy. You are my kin. And now, you have a blade to match your blood."
Days later, Maegor summoned all his vassals, commanders, and administrative officers to the great hall of the newly conquered castle in Noronos City. He had chosen this, the heart of the Duchy, to be his primary seat of power. He formally renamed the castle Pyrefall Castle, a chilling testament to its conquest and a nod to the Dragon's fire. It would now be the main residence for the Targaryen family in the Duchy of Qehes.
The hall buzzed with a tense anticipation as the diverse assembly gathered. Among them were:
Nobles: Lord Aenar Brightflame, Hand Aegon Duskryn, Lord-Commander Barristan Selmy, Lord-Commander Gareth Blackwood, Ser Daemon Velaryon, Governor Viserys Targaryen, Magister Andrio Vallel of Drasaho (looking nervous but composed), Khal Drogo, and Jorah Mormont (who had arrived weeks ago and discreetly integrated his 500 Northern-style recruits).Officers: Ammaro (Castellan of Myrosh Castle), Droseo Greenjoy (Ergos Steward), Rylora (Ergos Chancellor), and Nemarro (Ergos Master of Trade).
Maegor sat upon the Magister's throne, Blackfyre laid across his lap, its dark blade a stark contrast to his gleaming silver hair and deep purple eyes. Balerion, now immense, perched on a distant battlement, a living mountain, occasionally letting out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the castle stones.
"Gentlemen, and honored kinsmen," Maegor's voice boomed, filled with Royal Authority (Uncommon) and Conquest Aura (Epic), commanding instant, absolute silence. "The Duchy of Qehes is now unified. It is ours. And with unity comes order, and a new structure of governance."
He first addressed Ser Daemon Velaryon. "Ser Daemon Velaryon. Your loyalty, and the support of your House, are greatly valued. You are a seasoned commander, and your lineage is ancient. Noronos City possesses a large river, flowing swiftly to Lotyr Bay and thence to the Narrow Sea. This city will become our primary naval hub, the heart of our maritime power."
Maegor's gaze was firm. "I appoint you Governor of Mogho County. Your seat will be here, in Pyrefall Castle. You will oversee the integration of Mogho County and lead its development. I expect you to initiate and expand our sea trade, leveraging Noronos's position to improve the Duchy's economy. And, Ser Daemon," Maegor added, his voice softening slightly, "I know you lost your wife many years ago, but a man of your caliber needs an heir. I hope you will consider finding a wife here, to continue your legacy in this new land." Daemon bowed deeply, pride and a flicker of poignant gratitude in his eyes.
Next, Maegor turned to Viserys Targaryen. Viserys, still nervous but standing a little taller, clutched his small dragon, Umbra, who was now nestled in his tunic. "Viserys Targaryen. You have shown improvement in Dilora. You have proved your ability to govern, to lead, and to manage. Your wife, Deana, is now pregnant, and your branch of our House will soon flourish. I therefore elevate you. I appoint you Governor of Ergos County. Myrosh Castle will be your primary residence. You will be the head of your own house, and if you continue to show outstanding deeds, I will name you a Count in your own right. I pray you continue to grow, to learn, and to forever turn your back on the madness that plagued our House." Viserys dropped to his knees, utterly overwhelmed, tears streaming down his face. "My King! I… I swear! I will not fail you!"
Maegor then addressed Magister Andrio Vallel of Drasaho. Andrio, who had submitted peacefully, looked visibly relieved. "Andrio Vallel. Your swift and bloodless submission of Drasaho County is noted. Your former title of Magister is hereby stripped, as our traditions believe in Lordship, not elected officials. However, for your continued loyalty, you will be named Count of Drasaho. This title will not be hereditary for now. If you continue to show absolute loyalty and capable governance towards the Crown, you and your family will continue to prosper in Drasaho. Prove your worth." Andrio bowed deeply, accepting the demotion of title but the affirmation of his family's continued prosperity.
Maegor then formalized the roles of his key administrators, confirming their authority over the entire Duchy:
"Ammaro, you have served Myrosh Castle well. From this day, you are the Castellan of Pyrefall Castle, my direct household steward. You will continue to serve me, managing the affairs of my personal seat." Ammaro bowed, his meticulous nature shining through his composed expression.
"Droseo Greenjoy, your knowledge of Essosi governance is unparalleled. You are the Steward of the Duchy of Qehes. Your work in consolidating taxes, resources, and administration across this entire domain will be paramount." Droseo, ambitious and sharp, nodded, a gleam in his eye.
"Rylora, your intellect and diplomatic skill are invaluable. You are the Chancellor of the Duchy of Qehes. Continue your work in formalizing our laws, advising Hand Aegon, and overseeing our communications. You will draft the new legal codes for our unified Duchy." Rylora, young but formidable, bowed gracefully.
"Nemarro, Master of Trade. Your reach will now extend across the entire Duchy. I will assign a prominent location here in Noronos City to be your headquarters. From here, you will oversee and expand all trade within the Duchy of Qehes, ensuring our coffers swell and our markets thrive." Nemarro, a shrewd man, beamed at the prospect of such expanded influence.
Finally, Maegor addressed Ser Jorah Mormont. Jorah, who had arrived with his 500 Northern-style recruits, stood tall amongst the gathering. "Ser Jorah Mormont, you have delivered your men, hardy and disciplined. Your loyalty has been proven. I will assign one of the flourishing towns within Mogho County, just outside Noronos City, to be the headquarters of your company. You will continue to command your Northern Auxiliaries, recruit more if you see fit, and train them into the finest fighting force in Essos. You will be my extended arm, my shock troops, ready to deploy at my command."
Jorah dropped to one knee, a deep satisfaction on his face. "My King, it will be done. For the Dragon."
Maegor looked at his unified court, his expanded family, and his formidable army. He was no longer just a refugee, or a conqueror of a single town. He was the Duke of Qehes, his banners flying over cities and villages, his will enforced by dragons and Valyrian steel. The foundations of his new kingdom were now irrevocably laid. The Duchy of Qehes was ready to serve as the launching pad for a far grander conquest.