That evening, Prince Aegon hosted a banquet at the Manor.
The great hall was bright with torchlight and the glow of polished brass. When the last of the guests had taken their seats, Aegon rose first, his cup lifted high. Conversation faded at once.
"Tonight," he said, voice clear and measured, "we drink to Ser Hugh and his triumphant return."
Cups were raised across the tables. Wine vanished in a single breath, the clatter of goblets echoing against stone.
Aegon set his cup down and allowed himself a small smile.
"This feast is held in Ser Hugh's honor," he continued, "but there are also a few small matters I wish to announce."
At once, Kraken and the others placed their cups aside.
They knew Aegon well enough by now. Celebration was never the true purpose. The real business always followed.
Kraken leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the table. "Your Highness," he said dryly, "best to speak of the matters first. Once you are finished, we may drink in peace and enjoy this garlic, chili, honey-roasted sausage."
A few chuckles circled the table.
Aegon inclined his head. "Very well. I will be direct. There are three matters in total."
He lifted one finger.
"The first concerns the building of a regular army. I intend to form a standing force of eight thousand men, organized into legions."
Loren frowned slightly and tapped his knuckle against the wood. "Legions," he said. "You mean like the mercenary companies of Essos?"
"Similar," Aegon replied, "but not the same."
He gestured lightly as he explained, his tone calm but assured.
"The army will be divided into small legions and large legions. A small legion will consist of fifty men of a single type, infantry, archers, or cavalry. Each small legion will be divided into ten squads."
He raised a second finger.
"A large legion will consist of ten small legions. These may be mixed or uniform, depending on need. Infantry alone, archers alone, cavalry alone, or any combination."
Then a third.
"Above them will be combined legions, formed from multiple large legions and tasked with large-scale warfare."
Loren exhaled slowly and shook his head. "Your Highness, the idea itself is sound. Flexible formations always are. But in practice, it is nearly impossible."
Aegon met his gaze. "Explain."
"To divide an army so finely," Loren said, "you require a great many competent commanders at the lowest levels. Without them, the structure collapses."
The meaning was clear enough. Landed knights were few, and fewer still were willing or able to command.
Aegon had already anticipated this.
"Those commanders need not be knights," he said. "I intend to establish a military academy, devoted solely to training officers."
The table fell silent.
Kraken's brows drew together. Alec paused with a piece of meat halfway to his mouth. Even Loren forgot to frown.
"A military academy," Loren repeated quietly.
"A unified course of theory," Aegon went on, "followed by practical training in the Disputed Lands. Not ten years of squireship. Months of instruction, then war."
He folded his hands. "In time, we will have officers with experience, discipline, and loyalty."
No one spoke for several heartbeats.
At last, Kraken cleared his throat. "Your Highness," he said carefully, "even if such a place can be built, the cost will be enormous. And maintaining a standing army of that size will drain gold faster than we can count it."
Soldiers required pay. Horses, food, armor, weapons, repairs. Gold dragons vanished quickly once an army stood idle.
Aegon waved a hand, unconcerned. "Gold is not a problem."
Kraken's eyes sharpened.
"We have dragons," Aegon said lightly. "If we lack coin, we will find an excuse to take it. Plunder, reparations, both serve well enough."
Kraken did not smile. "That is expedient, Your Highness, but not stable. A standing army requires steady taxation, not constant war."
Aegon studied him for a moment, then nodded. "You see further than I expected."
He leaned forward.
"For now, do not concern yourself with funding. Using Tyrosh's turmoil in the Stepstones as justification, we will raise the transit tax to three tenths for three months. Afterward, I will establish workshops in the southern district to produce high-value goods."
Kraken relaxed slightly. "If Your Highness has planned so far ahead, then we will follow."
"There is no need to rush," Aegon said. "We will test this system first with the fleet."
He turned to Ser Hugh.
"Effective immediately, the fleet will be renamed the Drakoncrest First Fleet. Personnel will be expanded to five thousand men. The organization of legions and troop types will be your responsibility."
Hugh straightened in his seat. "As you command."
"The Lannister fleet remains unchanged."
A chorus of assent followed.
Aegon took a sip of wine before continuing.
"The second matter concerns Tyrosh."
The air cooled at once.
"Tyrosh has been defeated," Aegon said. "Recharino's fleet is destroyed. My plan is as follows. First, we allow the rebel army to eliminate the slave masters. Then we intervene directly."
He spoke evenly, as though outlining a ledger.
"We win over some Tyroshi. We suppress others. We execute the rest."
Several cups stopped midway to lips.
"We will establish the Province of Tyrosh. A secondary round table will govern it. Six provincial grand councilors will hold true authority. Twelve lesser seats will be divided between freed slaves and Tyroshi. Each grand councilor will have one of each as deputies."
No one objected outright, but unease lingered.
Kraken spoke first. "Your Highness, nearly every Tyroshi owns slaves, especially women. Where do you draw the line between slave master and commoner?"
Arryk nodded. "How do we decide who deserves death?"
Aegon answered without hesitation.
"By number. Anyone owning more than forty-nine slaves is a slave master. They will be executed."
Arryk frowned. "Is that not arbitrary? Some may free their slaves willingly if offered mercy."
Loren snorted. "Tyroshi slave masters do not repent. If it were my choice, I would kill them all."
Arryk's chair scraped back. "There are hundreds of thousands in that city."
"Yes," Loren said calmly. "Beasts, not men. Driving them out is an option, but killing them is simpler."
He paused, then smiled faintly. "Or we could keep them to feed the dragons."
Aemond, who had been eating in silence, looked up at once. His single eye glinted in the torchlight.
"I agree," he said. "Vhagar is not picky."
Loren raised his cup in approval. Aemond mirrored the gesture, clinking the air.
Daeron wiped his mouth and leaned forward. "That is foolish."
Both turned on him.
"You cannot keep hundreds of thousands of people like cattle," Daeron said. "Even dragons have limits. And what of the realm's judgment?"
Aemond scoffed. "We are dragonlords. Who dares judge us?"
Daeron met his gaze. "If we rule through terror alone, who will kneel willingly tomorrow?"
Aegon watched him closely, surprise flickering across his face.
"Well said," Aegon said at last. "It seems you have been thinking."
Daeron straightened at the praise, chest puffed with pride. "Of course."
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A/N:
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