The seventh day of the fifth moon, 120 AC.
Aegon released a new proclamation. His words were sharp and simple, carried by raven and ship to all of Essos.
He sought no quarrel with any Free City except Tyrosh. So long as the others kept their swords sheathed, they would come to no harm. But if any city dared send forces to aid Tyrosh, he would answer. Full-grown dragons would descend upon their harbors and city centers, burning them to ash.
There was no mention of slavery or grand causes. Only a warning.
Those two sentences alone made envoys and councilors across the Free Cities exchange wary looks. One threat had to be weighed against another. One misstep might bring ruin.
Drakoncrest Port.
Aegon had thrown every craftsman he possessed into its construction. Hammers rang from dawn to dusk, and dust hung in the air like a pale fog. The sailors that Loren brought were set to work as well, though their numbers barely eased the strain.
Loren stood beside him on the pier, watching the half-built walls rise from the shore."How about I depart today," he said. His arms were folded, his gaze fixed on the bustle of workers. "I can go with the warships."
Aegon considered the idea. Supplies were no longer lacking. Cargo ships could be devoted entirely to carrying people now. At length he nodded.
"You may go."
That gave him forty-five warships at his command. Still fewer than Tyrosh commanded, yet enough at last to grasp the three great shipping lanes of the Stepstones.
Only those lanes were deep enough for ships of twenty meters or more. Vessels over forty meters could use only the first lane. To wander elsewhere meant courting disaster on half-submerged reefs.
Aegon outlined his plan with crisp efficiency."Block the second and third lanes with twenty ships. Force every passing vessel into the first lane. It will make collecting tolls far easier."
That left him twenty-five warships and twenty cargo ships free for use.
"You will take twenty ships," Aegon continued. "Escort the cargo vessels. Bring fewer soldiers. The warships can carry some people as well. Aemond will accompany you."
Loren placed a hand over his chest and inclined his head."Thank you, Your Highness."
With Vhagar overhead, there was little danger even if the main Tyroshi fleet crossed their path.
True to his nature, Loren wasted no time. Orders were given at once, and captains hurried to prepare their vessels.
Aegon watched them a moment before turning to find his younger brother."Aemond," he said, once they stood apart from the bustle, "you will go with Loren. Guard the fleet well. This concerns the progress of Drakoncrest itself. Do not take it lightly."
Aemond gave a confident smile. He lifted his hand in an easy thumbs-up. "Do not worry, brother. When have I ever failed a task?"
Recent battles against the pirates had inflated his pride, and the glow of triumph still clung to him. Aegon could not help but laugh softly. He reached out and ruffled Aemond's silver hair, the gesture affectionate.
"I know. Take care of yourself."
"Alright!"
Aemond climbed into Vhagar's saddle. He looked down at Aegon and gave a wide wave. "Vhagar, go."
The ancient she-dragon crouched low, her vast body shaking the ground. Her scarred wings beat against the air, sending sand swirling. Then she rose, slow at first, then swift as the wind, soaring above the fleet. Loren's ships followed her shadow, turning east toward Tyrosh.
Without pirates, without Triarchy pursuers, without Dornish raiders, the voyage from Drakoncrest to Tyrosh was not a long one.
The evening of the ninth day of the fifth moon.
Beneath the ruined palace of Tyrosh, in a hidden stone chamber, torches flickered against cold walls.
"Chief," a scout reported, bowing slightly. "A fleet of twenty-five warships and twenty cargo ships is approaching Tyrosh."
Nekania's eyes narrowed. "Any sign of dragons?"
"No. Or perhaps they are hidden. If they remain above the clouds, our scouts would never spot them."
At that, Nekania lowered his head in thought. The fleet itself was nothing alarming. In Tyrosh alone he commanded nearly a hundred ships that could serve as warships with only minor alterations. With the authority of his office, he could conscript the entire port and muster hundreds more.
But war with Aegon Targaryen did not hinge on numbers.
He remembered the long struggle against Daemon Targaryen. For years the fighting circled the Stepstones. Even when Dorne entered the war and joined their strength to Triarchy forces, they had merely battled Daemon and Corlys Velaryon to a stalemate.
In the end Daemon had abandoned the field, leaving House Velaryon to hold on alone at Bloodstone.
Nekania had once believed Aegon to be a lesser version of Daemon. A youth with less experience, less cunning. A copy of a dangerous man, but not the man himself.
He knew better now.
He had overestimated Daemon and underestimated Aegon. The boy was reckless in ways that defied reason. He had struck at Tyrosh's heart without warning, burning the city center and harbor beneath four dragons.
Nekania lifted his gaze."Elville. What do you believe this fleet intends? To seize Tyrosh?"
Elville's brow furrowed. He paced two steps, thinking. At last he shook his head."Impossible. He lacks the numbers. Occupying Tyrosh would only end with us bleeding him dry."
They had gathered enough intelligence on Aegon to know his greatest weakness. He had land and ambition, yes. But he had little army to hold what he took. Dragons could break walls and scatter defenders, but occupying a city required soldiers.
If he entered Tyrosh with a handful of men, Nekania could slaughter them all once the dragons flew off. Four dragons could kill thousands, but they could not hold streets or guard gates.
And without an army, even with dragons, Aegon was no true threat.
Elville stopped pacing abruptly. His eyes widened."Wait. Could Aegon's true target be the slaves in the Lango Highlands?"
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A/N: Aegon's ambition has begun to stir.As his power grows, so do his foes, traitors, and enemies rising with blades already drawn.
Will he truly succeed… or be crushed before he can claim it all?
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