Gwap felt like his limbs were weighed down by iron. For a brief moment, he wondered whether the knights on the mainland felt like him when they went to battle or were in a joust wearing their colossal steel plate armour.
Then, he snorted at the silliness of the comparison.
'A fisherman comparing himself to a knight. A knight might die of shame.' Gwap thought with a grin.
He pulled as hard as he could at the net and managed to drag the last few portions of the net into his humble boat. Opening the mouth of the net, he let the contents spill into the floor of his boat. It was with some relief that he noted the haul contained some substantial catch. It was not a boatload of fish, but he could manage it with the haul he pulled from the sea.
With some relief, he started gathering the water stuck on the floor of his boat and threw it outside using a bucket. While at it, he also threw away the odd seaweed and other wastes caught in his net. When the job was finally done, he spread the net wide over the fish on his boat's floor so they wouldn't escape into the sea.
He fell on his back and rested against the boat floor on the side where there was no fish. The warm sun glared down at him, which made him shield his eyes with his arm. He rested his tired limbs and let the gentle waves rocking his boat make him relax his body and mind from a day's work.
He didn't know how long he lay there but was broken out of his rest when a strange sound reached his ears. It felt like someone threw a giant boulder into the sea. The same sound came closer, followed by a shockwave, which threw the boat to the side.
Gwap let out a scream as he was thrown off his boat into the sea.
"What in the name of good waves was that?" Gwap gasped as he came out of the sea, held on to the edge of his boat, and tried to haul himself back into the boat.
Thankfully, his hard work hadn't gone to waste. The fish he caught were still safely in his boat, which was a blessing. But his relief was short-lived when his eyes fell on the towering form of a war galley. The next moment, Gwap flinched as a bolt that struck a shoal nearby was released from the galley. With wide eyes, he stared at the scorpion bolt sticking out of the shoal. The next moment, he dived down with his hands and held his head as the shoal exploded apart with a booming sound.
His ears rang as the terrifying sound clogged his ears. He could feel water, sand and shells raining down over his head. When he finally regained his bearings, he saw the shoal was nowhere to be seen.
Gwap couldn't help but stare at the massive galley with utter shock.
He feared for his life and huddled against the corner of his boat, but thankfully, the galley sailed away. Though relieved he retained his life, Gwap just sat there frozen and scared out of his wits while watching the galley sail away.
'What in the name of all the holy seas and skies is happening?' Gwap wondered.
His eyes then fell on the banner flying on the galley.
'Is that a yellow lion or a wolf?' Gwap wondered, squinting his eyes at the fluttering banner on the galley.
Whatever it was, he needed to inform Lord Borrell. So, he immediately took charge of the boat and began rowing earnestly for the shores of Sisterton. Once the boat reached the shores, he jumped out of the boat and with the help of some of his friends, he managed to secure the boat safely on the shore. He left the haul with someone he could trust while he ran straight for the seat of House Borrell.
Thankfully, the guards in the castle granted him an audience after he informed them what he saw. Therefore, he was granted a quick audience with Lord Godric.
"My lord, this man says he saw a war galley destroying a shoal near our shores."
Gwap looked from the guard and then the lord of Breakwater with a slight apprehension.
"Destroyed a shoal, you say." Lord Godric looked at him with amusement from his throne, "Are you sure this one did not hit his head on a rock?"
"My lord, I saw it as clear as the day. It was a massive war galley but unnaturally fast compared to any ships I've seen in Sisterton." Gwap said earnestly, hoping his lord would believe him.
"What is your name?" Lord Godric asked with a frown.
"Gwap, my lord."
"Tell me everything you saw and tell it true. No blemishes or exaggerations." Lord Godric said with a measured tone that kept Gwap on edge.
"Yes, my lord."
Gwap nodded readily and started regaling the tale as best as he could. Lord Godric heard him patiently without any interruptions, allowing him to conclude the tale comfortably. However, the discomfort returned in full force when Lord Godric observed silence after he stopped telling the tale and merely stared at him.
"The banner you saw… describe it to me once more." Lord Gordic ordered suddenly, startling Gwap.
"It was a golden lion or a wolf on a field of black, my lord."
"Is it a lion or a wolf? Say it true, you fool." the guard shook him, making Gawp gulp audibly.
"Many apologies, my lord." Gawp bowed his head low, "I simply didn't see it clearly. The ship sailed away fast, and by the time I gathered my wits to look for the banner… it could be a fox!"
"The Starks of Avalon." Lord Godric muttered under his breath but Gwap heard it loud and clear.
Gawp hesitantly peeked at the men in the hall, who all had grim looks.
"Ser Runeford."
"My lord."
"Send a few ships from the port and have them patrol our shores. I want to know whether any Northern ships are sailing in our waters." Lord Godric ordered before a hesitant look came over his face when his eyes fell on Gwap, "Also, ask them to check the status of our shoals and reefs. I want to know whether they remain intact or destroyed."
"As you command, my lord." Ser Runeford nodded.
Gwap was readily allowed to return to his humble shores, where his friends and villagers were eagerly waiting for his return. They were most intrigued to learn of what happened. At first, he was hesitant to share all the details, but he couldn't hold himself back when Bess, the woman he fancied and hoped to marry, took an interest in his heroic deeds of the day. So, he happily regaled her with his brush with death and was most assuredly black sorcery of the wolves of the North.
Even in Sisterton, the tales of the dark sorcerer of the North were well known. After all, the sorcerer had sacrificed an entire Free City to his queer gods in a dark ritual to gain fell knowledge of dark magic. When the word spread that ships of the dark sorcerer were sailing freely in their waters, people became afraid to go fishing alone in the sea.
Only the brave few were sturdy enough to row into the sea without company. Sadly, Gawp was not among those few as he had a gut feeling the sorcerer's ships were not satisfied with merely blowing away their shoals with their fell magic. His fears would prove to be true in the coming days.
*****
Viserys watched from the palace balcony with a wicked grin as rows of Unsullied soldiers lined up on the ground before him. They were methodical and highly disciplined. He could not see a toe out of line as they arranged themselves in perfect formation before him. He couldn't help but be satisfied as he looked upon such obedient soldiers. Their sharp spears and shields remained at their side while the Unsullied were dressed in pitch-black armour.
"The Unsullied are obedient and the most disciplined force in the known world, your grace. They'll serve you well in the days to come." Illyrio silkily said, standing at just a pace behind him.
"Indeed." Viserys said with a cruel gleam in his lilac eyes.
Viserys' eyes fell on the three servants tending to the potted plants not too far away from the grounds.
"Tell me, Magister Illyrio. Are those servants worth something to you?" Viserys asked with a wicked look as an idea formed in his mind.
"They're slaves in all but name, your grace. They're inconsequential." Illyrio waved dismissively.
"Unsullied. Bring me the heads of those two servants."
Viserys' command was in perfect High Valyrian, a language the Unsullied considered their mother tongue. He watched with glee as three Unsullied soldiers ran towards the servants and wrestled them down to the floor. Before his eyes, the Unsullied executed the terrified servants one by one. When it was finally done, the Unsullied knelt on the floor with the severed heads of the servants in their hands.
"As I said, they'll serve you well in the days to come." Illyrio said with a boisterous laugh.
"Yes, but I can't kill the Usurper's brothers and their loyal dogs with a thousand men, Magister. I need an army." Viserys said with frustration, turning away from the Unsullied army below.
"Unfortunately true, your grace. I believe I have a remedy to this dilemma."
"You do?" Viserys asked, looking at the Magister suspiciously.
"I have been discreetly making inquiries with several sellsword companies of Essos."
"You were the one who told me that all known sellsword companies were hired by the Free Cities fighting each other in the Disputed Lands." said Viserys with an unimpressed stare.
"I did, but the situation is hopefully becoming stable your grace. With Myr weakened, a dispute arose over their territorial claims in the region. Tyrosh, Volantis, and Lys have renewed their fight, and most sellsword companies are aligned with one of the Free Cities. However, I have come in contact with a sellsword company not involved in the conflict." Illyrio said with a bright smile even his long beard couldn't hide.
"I hope it's not the Golden Company. They insulted me when they should've been honoured to fight under the banner of the Dragon." Viserys said with a low growl, remembering the insult to him years ago.
"Of course, your grace. I'd never make such a mistake after the insult they paid on your person." Illyrio was quick to say which made Viserys happy.
He had to admit the Pentoshi were far more accommodating than the other Free Cities, especially Illyrio Mopatis. He was starting to see it was a mistake on his part not to take refuge in Pentos. It was his belief that had he arrived at Pentos earlier, he could've avoided much embarrassment. He had mistakenly taken the advice of Ser Darry and avoided Pentos all these years.
Even Myr was far more accommodating to his needs but was farther away from his goals than he is now. Within his short stay in Pentos, Magister Illyrio had arranged a wonderful manse for him and helped him buy a thousand Unsullied from Astapor. While the Unsullied came from his looted wealth from Myr, he was nonetheless happy with the purchase as he felt he was much closer to his goal of claiming the Iron throne.
"So, tell me, Illyrio. Which other sellsword company are there capable of helping me crush the Usurper's brothers?" Viserys asked curiously.
"The Brave Companions will serve your cause well, your grace. They're infamous for their cruelty on the battlefield, putting even the Second Sons to shame."
"Truly?" Viserys was now interested.
"Yes, your grace. The Brave Companions are led by Vargo Hoat of Qohor. He is known to cut off the hands and feet of his prisoners. These sellswords are known for being savage on the battlefield."
Viserys now became intrigued the more he learned of these sellswords. He needed such savagery if he was to take revenge on the Usurper's brothers and their dogs. But his first priority was taking Dragonstone from the Usurper's brother. Once Dragonstone was in his hands, he could gather loyal lords and knights from the Narrow Sea to attack King's Landing. All those waiting for the Dragon's rise would undoubtedly gather behind him to overthrow the Baratheons for good.
"Have you conveyed my wishes to them?" Viserys asked.
"I have mentioned House Targaryen requires their services. My messengers have returned with a promise from Vargo Hoat to visit Pentos. I believe the Brave Companions will arrive to meet with your grace within three weeks."
"Truly!" Viserys gained a thoughtful look.
"There is also word from Westeros, your grace. Lord Jon Arryn has passed, and there is talk that Queen Selyse poisoned the Hand."
Viserys looked at Illyrio incredulously.
"I know it's difficult to believe, but my informants are trustworthy, your grace. Lady Lysa Arryn has escaped from the capital under the cover of the night, and she believes the Baratheons murdered her husband. At the same time, the Northerners are being attacked by the pirates of the Three Sisters. My informants tell me the Vale and the North might war over the islands in the Bite."
Viserys' eyes widened, and a wicked grin crossed his face at this new piece of information. It brought him great pleasure that his enemies were fighting each other.
"Then this is the right time to attack Westeros." Viserys said excitedly, "Tell me, what is the response from Dorne and the Reach? Surely, they've also sensed this opportunity and want to support their rightful king."
"I'm afraid I do not have many informants in the Reach your grace. But I have received word that Prince Doran has betrothed his daughter to Harrion Stark."
"What!" Viserys shouted, rage filling his eyes, "How could they consort with those traitors so callously? Have they forgotten the actions of the Usurper's dogs? Is there no worth to the blood spilt from Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys?"
"Perhaps this is a prudent move on Prince Doran's part, your grace. It could be possible that Prince Doran intends to bind House Stark and the North to Dorne instead of allowing Stannis Baratheon to make a powerful ally. Stannis has a daughter, and he could've forged a formidable alliance with the Starks if not for Prince Doran." Illyrio commented.
Viserys was still unconvinced at the usefulness of this betrothal. If anything, it made his blood boil. He could still remember the fear and helplessness he felt while he was the captive of the accursed Starks. He had seen death face to face that accursed night. The powerlessness he felt that night in Myr haunted him every night. He would not easily forget Harrion Stark and his accursed magical powers.
"Surely your grace sees the benefit in keeping the Baratheons weak and denying them allies. Drone might declare their support once you land on Dragonstone. Then, using Dorne, your grace could bring the North under your banner without bloodshed."
While Illyrio's words calmed him down somewhat, Viserys still felt a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of aligning with House Stark out of necessity.
"Your grace also mentioned the Starks didn't harm you or your sister in Myr. Perhaps the Starks are disenchanted with the Baratheon rule. Eddard Stark's sons may have realised their father's folly and prefer a dragon on the throne instead of a stag." Illyrio said silkily.
Viserys was not convinced that was the case, but he was willing to go along with it for now. Besides, once he ascended the Iron throne he could punish the Usurper's dogs for their role in the rebellion.
"I'll need to know whether Dorne intends to support my claim before I make any decision. There is also the matter of transportation if the Brave Companions take the contract." said Viserys.
"I believe I can help with arranging ships, your grace. There are quite a lot of sellsails happy to serve House Targaryen." Illyrio said confidently with a benign smile.
Viserys shrugged, seeing the confidence of the Magister. His eyes then fell on his sister, who was engaged in a conversation with a bunch of servants. His sister had reasons to be this happy because he had denied the original suggestion from the Magister to gather a Dothraki army by marrying his sister to a Dothraki horselord. He had already heard tales of a Dothraki Khalassar getting slaughtered by the Starks. In his eyes, such weak people were useless in his war of conquest.
Besides, he needed his sister to keep the Targaryen bloodline pure, just as his father had done before him.
*****
Euron Greyjoy's lone eye flashed with an enthusiastic gleam as he took in the huge trunk made of sturdy steel being carried by his men towards his rowboat.
"Be quick about it, you slackers. We don't have all day." Euron barked at his crew.
He couldn't help but marvel at the sizeable crate with its smokey grey colour and distinct ripple patterns over its smooth surface. It was Valyrian steel of the highest quality. But he considered what was inside the crate far more valuable than the metal itself. Several old scrolls on the most potent blood magic had made their way into his hands from years of raiding the coasts from Volantis to Asshai. Only now he was strong enough to brave the waters of Valyria.
Even with all that, the cost was too great. He had to sacrifice some of his most valuable sorcerers in a blood magic ritual to gain the protection of his ship and survive the journey. Once his men loaded the crate into the rowboat, they left the shores of Valyria.
Euron eyed the darkened lands of Valyria one last time. It was truly a land of horrors. Even with the sacrifices he made and the magic he weaved around himself and his crew, he could not breach further into the veil of darkness surrounding the shattered peninsula. Word had reached him of the Starks showcasing treasures they claimed they took from Valyria.
Most people considered it a rumour, but Euron believed in the powers of the lord of Avalon. Even though he had only heard rumours, he was encouraged to raid Valyria because of them. It was his bravest act, and he nearly lost his life doing so, but the rewards were greater than the risk. Two more crates like this one were safely aboard Silence.
If he hadn't secured the services of Shadow binders from Ashai and the aid of a Valyrian glass candle, he'd have been unable to pick out the perfect spot to raid. Even then, he lost a couple of men to the red-skinned monsters infesting the land.
But it was worth every little drop of blood sacrifice.
'Great power demands greater sacrifices.' Euron thought fondly.
It didn't take long for them to reach the Silence and his crew to haul the crate onto the deck. Soon, the Silence was sailing away from the shores of Valyria, and he was in the Captain's cabin staring intently at the contents of the last crate.
Inside the crate, a long pitch-black horn lay underneath a pile of scrolls written in High Valyrian.
"A dragon horn, just as I was promised." Euron muttered as he traced the finely carved runes on the horn.
The door to his room opened, and he grinned at his guest, who helped him achieve the priceless artefact.
"I promised you the power to bind dragons."
"Yes, you did, Melisandre of Asshai. Now, what is it you desire?" Euron asked while leaning back in his seat, conversing with the only one with a tongue other than his own aboard the Silence.
"Now, we go west to find dragons and bind them using the horn." said Melisandre, her red rubies adorning the chocker on her neck gleaming eerily.
"There are no dragons." Euron said with a frown.
"A few moments earlier, there was no dragon horn. The dragons will also appear when it is time." said Melisandre as she slipped sensually into his lap.
"Hmm… then it's good that we have time to wait for the dragons to appear." Euron grinned as his lips crashed against Melisandre's, and they fell into bed.
To read ahead of the update schedule; pat(r) eon. C (O) M/Dragonspectre.
For artwork related to the fic:
https://discord.gg/Nw2JH25fJf