Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 368: Stepstones Islands – Twin Castles

Chapter 368: Stepstones Islands – Twin Castles

July, the Height of Summer

Stepstones - Gray Gallows Island

"Retreat, everyone! Back to the stone caves for shelter!"

"Hold the defense! Don't let those Pentosi bastards gain an inch!"

On the golden sandy beach, mercenaries clashed fiercely, stone throwers hurling flints as flames and smoke rose.

"Encircle them! Don't let a single Triarchy pirate escape!"

Leading the charge on the attacking side was a tall knight in silver armor and white robes, wielding a morningstar with deadly precision.

Bam!

The morningstar swung with the force of a tiger's wind, smashing the head of a Triarchy pirate, sending a spray of blood like an exploding bottle.

Criston Cole, reappointed as a member of the Kingsguard, was thrust into the Narrow Sea War, once again battling in the Stepstones where he had previously faced disgrace.

Boom!

The battle grew fiercer, with warships attacking each other, scorpion crossbows firing, and ships being blown to pieces. Mercenaries fell into the sea, screaming, only to be shot by enemy crossbows as they tried to climb back up, staining the water red.

Time passed, and the battle became even more intense. Triarchy pirates surged from all directions, attempting to break through the encirclement and retreat to the stone caves.

"Roar--"

Suddenly, a dragon's roar echoed like a bell, and a pitch-black behemoth broke through the clouds.

"Dracarys!" Rhaegar, his silver hair flying, commanded coldly.

"Roar..."

Cannibal roared angrily, swooping down with wings spread wide, unleashing green dragonfire over the beach.

"Dragon!"

"Help! Run!"

The dragonfire fell like smoke and fog, engulfing a group of Triarchy pirates in a torrent of flames, eliciting a chorus of mournful wails.

Cole looked up and shouted, "Retreat! Guard the beach!"

Boom--

Cannibal swooped low, blocking the pirates' retreat to the stone caves, spewing ghostly green dragonfire uncontrollably.

"Release arrows! Quickly!"

On the island's peak, a group of pirates armed with bows tried to sneak attack the dragon.

Rhaegar glanced at the sound and snorted, "Cannibal, slaughter them!"

"Roar..."

Cannibal's green vertical pupils swept over the archers, abandoning the pirates struggling in the fire, and gliding against the mountain, its fearsome jaws grinning.

The eerie green dragonfire shot out like a beam, incinerating hundreds of archers in an instant.

"Roar..."

"Roar..."

Simultaneously, two loud and clear dragon roars echoed from the sea. A light silver and a light gray dragon soared into view, joining the fray.

Laenor's face was agitated, his silver and gray armor glinting as he roared, "Dracarys!"

"Roar..."

Seasmoke's vertical pupils sharpened, and its broad snow-white wings flapped as it swooped down, unleashing Dragonfire upon the sea fleet.

Grey Ghost circled above while Laenor and Seasmoke were surrounded by chaos, with Grey Ghost sporadically spraying orange Dragonfire onto the battlefield below.

Rumble—

A friendly scream pierced the air. Alarmed, Laenor bellowed, "Grey Ghost, attack from the rear!"

He spoke in High Valyrian, making it as comprehensible as possible for the masterless wild dragon.

"Roar?"

Grey Ghost's vertical pupils flashed in disbelief. Its well-proportioned, seemingly slim light gray body zipped into the clouds, quietly observing the battlefield. Without a rider, it struggled to distinguish between friend and foe in the chaos of war.

Below, the pirates sighed in relief as the light gray dragon flew away. The Grey Ghost's appearance was not traditionally handsome; its slim, growing body and wide light gray wings gave it a ghostly look. The dragon's head, adorned with interlocking fangs and a pair of narrow vertical pupils, sported grayish horn crowns curved backward. Perhaps its prolonged contact with Cannibal had influenced its ghastly transformation.

Seeing Grey Ghost shy away, Laenor felt embarrassed but charged into the battle on Seasmoke alone. The Triarchy pirates' numbers were vast, with dozens of warships stationed on the Stepstones Islands, presenting a formidable challenge.

Wooooooooo—

A high-pitched horn sounded from the sky. A small fleet bearing the stag banner sailed into view.

"Roar..."

Above the fleet, an ugly brown clay-colored dragon soared, its bumpy spine carrying a silver-haired boy. Aemond's eyes glinted as he urged, "Sheepstealer, give them Dragonfire!"

"Roar..."

Sheepstealer roared shrilly, its massive body gliding low, spraying rotten dot-like chunks of Dragonfire. The fireballs struck the pirate ships, igniting brown flames and smashing holes in the decks.

"Haha, well done!" Aemond laughed excitedly, swaying in the saddle. After a period of adjustment, Sheepstealer had become obedient, at least during combat.

"Roar—"

Cannibal roared, diving headfirst through the clouds, spraying ethereal green Dragonfire onto the pirate ships below. Rhaegar, observing the battlefield, maneuvered his dragon to tilt for a better angle.

"Roar..."

Grey Ghosts emerged from the clouds, slowing to join the battle upon seeing familiar allies. With four dragons and two fleets united, the tide of battle quickly turned.

Under relentless bombardment, the Triarchy pirates found themselves trapped. They were unable to escape into the sea, burning along with their ships, as Dragonfire rained down mercilessly.

...

As the day waned, the naval battle finally came to an end.

Gray Gallows Island, Temporary Quarters

Rhaegar's silver hair draped over his shoulders, and his face was stern. "There's still a portion of stubborn defenders on Bloodstone Island. We need to lead the army to clear them out."

Laenor patted his chest and affirmed, "Leave it to me. I'll take Bloodstone Island before dawn tomorrow."

"Pay attention to your safety. There are hidden passages on the island from before. Cole will lead the army to support you," Rhaegar instructed, finalizing the strategy.

Bloodstone Island had been Aegon's fiefdom and under the royal family's control for three years, so they were well-acquainted with its terrain and dark passages. This familiarity was the reason for their confident grip on the Stepstones.

Laenor received his orders and set out, initiating the operation overnight. Rhaegar rubbed his tense brow, considering the terrain of Gray Gallows Island and contemplating, "We lack a sturdy fortress."

There were only two major islands in the Stepstones: Bloodstone Island and Gray Gallows Island. Both islands had moderate fortifications, strained during wartime. Internally perfect military fortresses were essential for stronger defense.

As he mulled over these thoughts, Aemond, clad in a green cloak, hurried in, cheerfully announcing, "Brother, there's a letter from King's Landing."

Rhaegar glanced at him, took the letter, and advised, "Wear armor next time you go into battle."

Aemond scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. He had snuck out, pressed for armor that fit, and had already been caught and lectured by his brother.

Rhaegar quickly read the letter and laughed. "Good news—the fleets from Oldtown and The Arbor will be arriving in the next few days."

In this Narrow Sea battle, Rhaegar aimed for a swift victory to avoid a prolonged conflict. Having captured Myr, one of the three free city-states, and reclaimed the Stepstones Islands, which controlled the middle of the Narrow Sea, the situation was favorable.

Waiting for the reinforcements, Myr and the Stepstones Islands formed a stronghold. Capturing the second city-state would secure the war's outcome.

Aemond's face lit up with excitement. "Brother, when the reinforcements come, I will attack the city with you."

Though young, Aemond's heart yearned for honor and glory.

Snap!

Rhaegar backhanded a slap on Aemond's head and questioned sternly, "What is the punishment for insubordination in wartime?"

"H-Hanging?" Aemond stammered, covering his head.

Rhaegar sneered, "You know the penalty, yet you still dare to disobey orders and sneak onto another battlefield!"

"I have a dragon. Sheepstealer is very strong," Aemond argued.

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed as he raised his hand again.

"Don't!" Aemond retreated quickly.

Rhaegar lowered his hand, leaned down, and pressed his shoulder, his expression serious. "You have your own mission. The Dornish could attack our rear at any time. You and your dragon must hold the Stormlands. Do you understand?"

The main battlefield of the War of the Narrow Sea was in the Disputed Lands, while the Narrow Sea and Dorne were secondary battlefields. Rhaegar had sent Aegon and Helaena to Gulltown and Claw Isle, with Jeyne overseeing the bigger picture.

He felt confident about the Narrow Sea. However, the Stormlands, Dorne, and even the Riverlands were more uncertain.

Dorne, under Qoren Martell, wouldn't stand by and watch their ally, the Triarchy, be destroyed. Prince's Pass, the Boneway, and Cape Wrath would be key attack areas for the Dornish.

Aemond's role was to assist Cassandra in managing the Stormlands bannermen and use his dragon to block critical attacks. Delays could allow Rhaegar to ride Cannibal back from the sea, or his father could lead the king's army from King's Landing to block the way to the fortress.

Aemond's absence was a serious breach.

Aemond's eyes flickered as he lowered his head. "Got it."

"Are you sure?" Rhaegar stared deeply into his eyes.

Aemond pursed his lips and nodded vigorously.

Rhaegar patted his shoulder and encouraged him, "I'll overlook it this time. Return to Storm’s End Castle tomorrow morning and watch over Dorne for me."

"Uh-huh," Aemond sulked.

Rhaegar smiled and called Robb, who was arranging the garrison. "I intend to build fortresses on Bloodstone Island and Gray Gallows Island, using black dragonstone."

Robb froze. "Are you going back to Dragonstone to transfer people?"

"That's right." Rhaegar thought clearly and instructed, "Daemon and the Sea Snake are leading an army to harass Lys and Tyrosh. I'll transfer the Sea Snake back, and you will assist him with all your might."

With Myr's collapse, Lys and Tyrosh would cling together for survival, making a breakthrough difficult. The Stepstones needed impregnable fortifications. Black dragonstone, created with dragon feces and stones, could be quickly infused to build sturdy fortresses.

Robb nodded and left.

Rhaegar looked at the scowling Aemond, stroked his head, and muttered, "It's time to build Aegon a castle."

Bloodstone Island was Aegon's fiefdom, but it lacked a decent castle, which was an embarrassment. Before anyone could contest the Triarchy's territory, it was better to establish Aegon firmly on Bloodstone Island.

...

Braavos

Hall of the Sealord, Underground Chamber

In the dimly lit chamber, several figures gathered around a high platform, shadows cast by a massive keel. Ferrego stood with his arms folded, silently gazing at the three dragon eggs nestled in straw.

The dragon eggs, covered with scales and showing old abrasions, seemed to have aged over the years. Fortunately, their shells had not turned to stone and still retained the potential for hatching.

"Sealord, these three dragon eggs may not all hatch successfully," said a middle-aged man in a brightly colored red robe. He was tall, with light purple eyes, a shaved head, and an unusually handsome pale face.

Ferrego's expression was stern as he rebuked, "No matter the cost, all three dragon eggs must hatch!"

The red-robed man's eyes darkened slightly. "Then we need a blood sacrifice, not just dragon bones, but also a true dragon blood."

"Where can we find such a thing?" Ferrego was taken aback.

The red-robed man shook his head. "I am proficient in an ancient blood sorcery. We need to select three pure-blooded children from the Valyrian descendants you have gathered."

As he spoke, his gaze swept over the others, implying, "Praying for the dragon eggs to hatch, preferably with magic supplied, will require more effort on your part."

Ferrego's eyes narrowed, glancing vaguely at the others present. There was a Shadowbinder, clad in black robes with a pitch-green ghostly face, an alchemist in maester's robes with a withered face, a red-robed priestess devoted to the Lord of Light, and even an elderly Pyromancer with a silver beard who was nearly fifty years old.

The last Sealord of Braavos had failed to hatch the dragon eggs despite his best efforts. Learning from this, Ferrego had spent a considerable fortune to bring together these practitioners of sorcery to devise a foolproof plan.