Early the next morning, the sea fog still clung to the towers and canals of Braavos. At the stronghold's dock, five prepared medium-sized "merchant ships" had already hoisted half their sails, waiting to depart.
If not scrutinized, they looked no different from other ships. But if one observed closely, they would notice that these ships had a deeper draft than others of their kind.
The "sailors" on deck wore coarse linen clothes, but their movements lacked the casual nonchalance of ordinary sailors. Their steps were steady, their eyes vigilant, and their coordination with each other carried a tacit understanding, a discipline forged through long training and fighting side-by-side.
Deep within the merchant ship with the deepest draft, in a specially reinforced cabin, Viserys sat in a chair, seemingly resting with his eyes closed.
He had boarded the ship earlier than the others. After all, to the outside world, he was "supposed" to still be in Volantis handling some confidential matters.
He was currently dressed in a simple black and red outfit, his silver hair casually draped over his shoulders.
However, a part of his mind was currently controlling Blackflame, flying towards their predetermined sea route, circling high above, waiting for their arrival.
At his feet, three exquisite wooden chests were placed side by side, their openings tightly bound with thick leather. Each chest contained three dragon eggs.
These treasures of the Targaryen family had to be personally guarded by him at all times during transport to ensure their safety. After all, the reconstruction of the Valyrian Empire also required their power.
On the deck, Ser Willem was conducting his final inspection. His gaze was sharp, sweeping over every corner, not missing any potential oversight.
At the dock, Ser Jon had just escorted Daenerys and the others. After boarding, Ashara nodded slightly to the two Darry knights, then led the two children to their assigned rooms.
Ser Jon and Ser Willem briefly conversed, completing the handover of command and confirming the final information.
Everything was ready. Ser Jon ordered the ropes to be untied, and the sails billowed in the gentle breeze, carrying the ships slowly into the sea, silently merging with the large fleet of merchant ships departing Braavos in the early morning.
The fleet passed through the channel beneath the Titan of Braavos one by one. At the checkpoint at the exit, Ser Jon, who had already prepared, stepped forward and spoke in a low voice with a Braavosi official. He handed over several trade documents and, at the same time, naturally slipped a heavy coin purse into the official's hand.
The official was clearly accustomed to such scenes. He skillfully flipped through the documents, weighed the coin purse, felt the weight of the silver coins inside, and a hint of business-like satisfaction appeared on his face. He then waved his hand, signaling them to pass.
Fleets of this size enter and exit Braavos countless times every day. As long as the taxes and documents are in order, no one pays much attention.
The voyage initially went quite smoothly. The fleet sailed south as planned, feigning a course for Lys.
Under Ashara's care, Daenerys and Rhaenys quickly adapted to the ship's rocking, both nervous and excited about the unknown journey. Viserys spent most of his time in the cabin, monitoring the surrounding sea through the connected vision of Blackflame, or accompanying the sometimes bored girls. Only these few core members knew of his presence.
However, this body of water, known as The Narrow Sea, was never truly calm. One afternoon a week later, the lookout sounded the alarm.
"To the aft-starboard. Ships are chasing us. Many of them, and their type looks like what pirates usually use."
Ser Jon's heart tightened. He immediately ordered the fleet to accelerate and adjust formation, positioning the two ships with more armed personnel on the outside. But the pursuers' speed was clearly faster, and their course was precise, indicating they had been targeting them for a long time.
In less than an hour, the fast ships had closed to a distance where details could be seen. They flew no banners of any city-state or noble house. Their prows were carved with ferocious sea monsters or skulls, and their decks were crowded with fierce-looking, rough men wielding various weapons.
On the slightly larger leading ship, a short, stout man, built like a wine barrel, with disheveled hair and a messy beard, stood at the prow, his face showing undisguised greed. It was Salladhor Saan, the "King of The Narrow Sea."
Viserys in the cabin had known it was Salladhor's ship from the start, and with Blackflame, he wasn't worried. He first comforted the two frightened little girls.
"Listen up, you ahead." Salladhor's voice was full of mockery. "With such rough seas, why rush? Why not stop and let Lord Salladhor inspect your cargo? If it pleases me, perhaps I'll even grant you safe passage."
A chorus of crude laughter and shouts erupted from the pirate ships.
Salladhor Saan, that cunning and greedy pirate captain. Ser Jon frowned.
He knew that His Majesty Viserys had encountered and subjugated this man. According to their agreement, Salladhor should continue to play his pirate role, plundering Lannister and Baratheon ships, and secretly accumulating strength for His Majesty. He didn't expect to encounter him now.
Just as Ser Jon was about to reveal his identity, Viserys's voice came from behind.
"Salladhor Saan."
The voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange penetrative power that caused the pirates, who were brandishing swords and howling, to involuntarily pause their movements.
A figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the cabin entrance. He had silver hair that shimmered in the sunlight and a pair of deep purple eyes. He looked very young, his face even somewhat overly handsome.
But at this moment, the look in those eyes inexplicably made the pirates who met his gaze feel a chill in their hearts. He simply stood there casually, as if radiating an undeniable aura.
Salladhor Saan narrowed his eyes, looking at the young man before him, and those silver hair and purple eyes.
Fragments of terrifying memories from a few months ago suddenly crashed into his mind.
"You... you are..." Salladhor's voice was a little dry, the greed and smugness on his face frozen, replaced by a growing astonishment and fear. He certainly wouldn't say it was the bane he encountered in the foggy sea.
Viserys ignored his panic, simply continuing in that calm and cold tone, "Have your men leave immediately. This is the final warning. And you, come aboard. I have words for you."
After boarding, Viserys spoke, "It seems your 'business' has expanded quickly recently, even daring to block my fleet."
Salladhor trembled all over and quickly explained, "No, no, I wouldn't dare. My Lord, you are wise. How would I dare to block your ship, my Lord? I have always followed your instructions, keeping an eye on Lannister and Baratheon ships, and even helping you build ships. Look, over there, those two, the 'Flying Fish' and the 'Surging Wave,' are ships I recently finished. They're sturdy and fast. I was just wondering how to deliver them to you, and I never expected to meet you here. What a coincidence."
He pointed to two medium-sized, new-looking sailboats aft-side of the pirate fleet.
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