Each ship would carry a balanced mix of units, designated commanders, and a scribe responsible for keeping records of the equipment, provisions, and number of men on board, along with a full squad of "medical teams," the best this era had to offer, brought directly from Volantis.
But all this machinery would only make sense if the plan was clear. And Vlad had already designed it with meticulous precision.
One day, amidst all his planning, he gathered all his generals, trusted men, the progeny he had left in charge of the city, and his most loyal captains. They were not few, but Vlad had ensured their absolute obedience through his compulsion. While not a subtle ability, it was more than enough to detect if there were spies among his inner circle.
Daenerys stood by his side, gently caressing his forearm as his men entered his office. The office was filled with bookshelves, holding various types of books. In the center, a solid wooden table took up most of the space, and in front of the window sat a wooden desk where many documents lay, along with candles and inkwells.
The central table was large enough for everyone to gather around without issue, and in the middle, a basic map of Westeros was spread out, with several reports distributed among his generals.
Ser Barristan and Missandei stood beside Daenerys, as always, while Jorah Mormont entered alongside Grey Worm. Despite having confessed his betrayal ahead of time, Daenerys had not fully forgiven him, so she kept him out of her inner circle.
—Gentlemen —greeted Vlad.
Daenerys cleared her throat with amused reproach.
—And lovely ladies —Vlad corrected himself with a smile. —It is time to plan our return to Westeros —he announced solemnly.
Everyone nodded. The few men from Westeros smiled, eager to finally return to their homeland. The generals also showed satisfaction, albeit for different reasons: they saw in this war an opportunity to gain glory and titles. Even the five progeny Vlad had created to control Meereen wore calculating smiles, anticipating how their power would grow once he departed.
Daenerys, more beautiful than ever under her new vampiric nature, had a radiant and predatory smile that only emphasized her ethereal beauty.
—I will depart for Braavos in five days. I'll negotiate with the Sealord to secure at least one hundred and fifty ships. That will be enough to transport our troops to Westeros and establish a stable base of operations.
—Then, Daenerys will travel to Dorne in secret and meet with Doran Martell. If his family remains loyal to the Targaryen cause, we'll strike a deal that will grant us additional ships to complement those from Braavos, allowing us to transport even more men. I intend to land in Westeros with fifty thousand soldiers —he declared, casting a meaningful glance at Daenerys.
The mission in Dorne was, in theory, relatively simple. He had given Daenerys free rein to negotiate as she saw fit, trusting in her charisma and lineage. The only non-negotiable part was to secure, and take as a "guest", Myrcella Baratheon.
He moved a few wooden figures to a specific spot on the map. Ser Barristan and Jorah were visibly surprised by the location.
—Lannisport, my lord? —Jorah asked, unable to hide his curiosity—. Are we not planning to reclaim King's Landing?
Daenerys shot him a glare that could have fit him into an envelope.
—Are you questioning your king? —she asked, venom in her voice.
—I wouldn't dare, my queen, but it's crucial that the generals are aware of the overall strategy —Jorah replied in a conciliatory tone.
—And you're right —Vlad interjected. He looked into Daenerys's eyes, silently asking her to control her temper. Her transition had made her noticeably more fiery.
—To answer your question, Ser Jorah: while taking King's Landing would be a moral blow to the enemy, it would be a strategic mistake. We would be isolated, with the Stormlands, the Vale, and Highgarden closing in on our flanks. Additionally, our fleet would be rendered useless once the enemy fortified the sea routes, and key ports like Lannisport and Oldtown will be well-defended.
He paused and pointed to Lannisport on the map.
—Lannisport, on the other hand, is vulnerable, with Tywin's forces focused on the capital. If we strike quickly, we can advance toward Casterly Rock—perhaps the only fortress capable of withstanding dragons. By taking it, we'll cut off the enemy's supply and retreat lines, destroying their reputation in the process.
—Then, the Black Fleet, the name for the war fleet, my wife, and I will sail to Pyke.
Ser Barristan frowned and asked:
—Do you plan to recruit the Ironborn, my lord? They are rapists and murderers —he spat bitterly.
—I plan to reduce the island of Pyke to ashes —Vlad replied coldly. There were two things he despised above all else: child killers and rapists. The Ironborn were both. —I will not allow them to strike from the rear. According to my spies, they have seventy warships ready to raid. I will reduce that number to zero and burn their island and their people to the ground.
No one objected, although some thought the punishment excessive. Vlad merely gave them a look before continuing.
—With thirty thousand men, we will march on Highgarden. We'll take control of the kingdom's granary and cut off the enemy's food supply.
—My lord —Ser Barristan spoke cautiously—, the Tyrells are allied with the Lannisters. Mace Tyrell plans to wed his daughter to Joffrey, and Highgarden can muster at least fifty thousand men.
—You are correct, Ser Barristan, but I have reasons to believe the marriage between Margaery and Joffrey will not take place. And if I can assure Olenna Tyrell the safety and escape of her granddaughter in King's Landing, the Tyrells will join our cause —he noted, with a smile that vanished a second later.
—And if not... thirty thousand men, plus four dragons, will make the Tyrells reconsider their loyalties.
Everyone in the room, save for Daenerys, felt a chill run down their spine.