abcnovels
Chapter 494: The Bastards of Hull
Chapter 494: The Bastards of Hull
Chapter 494: The Bastards of Hull
Time flies, and the sun sets.
Roar!
On Dragonstone, a black dragon streaked by, stirring up a salty sea breeze.
Roar!
Roar...
Vermithor and Silverwing arrived late, intimately entwined, leaping over the winding stone steps and the stone bridge.
At last, Grey Ghost flapped its wings, clinging to the tail of the three dragons.
“Roar~”
Iragaxys whimpered, lying on the back of the grey dragon and spreading its wings to feel the sea breeze. Grey Ghost glared back at it, a hot stream of air shooting from its nostrils. The little one immediately became obedient, curling up into a ball.
Satisfied, Grey Ghost landed on the cliff behind the Stone Drum Tower, its head held high.
The little dragon, new to the place and with no one to rely on, found solace in the shy yet dependable Grey Ghost. Despite its timid nature, Grey Ghost quickly formed a deep friendship with the young dragon under the threat of the dragon-taming whip.
The sun was setting.
Cannibal circled the Stone Drum Tower twice and landed in the same clearing on the cliff.
Boom!
The two dragons sunk their feet into the soil, sending a gust of wind through The Flatlands.
“The day of herding dragons is finally over,” Rhaegar yawned, climbing down from the dragon's back.
“Roar...”
Cannibal, in a foul mood, slumped to the ground. It had been driven hard all day and even had to catch its own fish to eat. This seemed to be its life now.
“Don’t be so down. There’s still a long way to go,” Rhaegar approached the dragon’s head, smiling wickedly. “You’re tired, that way you won't feel like eating dragons.”
Cannibal: ...
The dragon turned its head away, ignoring its master.
After a few idle words, Vermithor and Silverwing slowly descended, their ears and cheeks rubbing together affectionately.
Rhaegar watched with a sigh. "No wonder Silverwing is such a fertile egg producer," he thought. With such a stable relationship, it would be a shame not to produce more dragon eggs.
Rhaegar sat down in front of the black dragon's snout, rubbed his hands over its hard scales, and whispered, "They are the future of the Targaryens."
“Huh?”
The Cannibal glanced at them and frowned.
Rhaegar smiled and said nothing, his hand resting on the dragon whip at his waist. After a good whipping, the Cannibal was unusually calm, almost embarrassed by the dragons proximity.
A bit odd, but not worth worrying about.
Vermithor and Silverwing, like a devoted couple, chose to be obedient and accompany Rhaegar and his dragon for the entire day. Rhaegar reveled in the role of “dragon herder,” delighting in the unique joy of managing five dragons together.
As the sun set, the clouds turned a fiery red.
The five dragons gathered on the cliff by the sea, resembling a collection of differently sized boulders.
Cannibal crouched on the ground, its neck and head pressed against the grass, lazily shaking its tail.
Rhaegar relaxed, leaning against the dragon's snout, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the breeze on his face.
Beyond the golden beach, the vast ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see, peaceful and serene.
“Roar?”
Grey Ghost whinnied in confusion, moving to the edge of the cliff and stretching its neck to peer into the distance.
Iragaxys, lying on the tail of its new big brother, tumbled to the ground with a thud as Grey Ghost shifted, rolling and crawling onto the grass.
Rhaegar noticed the commotion and opened his eyes, looking into the distance.
At the end of the sunset, the sea reflected a shade of red.
"Roar..."
A piercing, shrill roar spread far and wide, with penetrating power.
Rhaegar sat up straight, his eyes filled with doubt.
A bloodthirsty dragon, long and scarlet like a snake, slowly soared towards the setting sun. On its back was a familiar figure.
Rhaegar frowned. “Daemon, what is he doing here so late?”
His uncle, returning to Tyrosh, was making a courtesy call on his way through Driftmark. They had just parted in the morning, and now he was here in the evening.
Boom!
Caraxes flapped its large wings and landed leisurely on the cliff, its slender body vertical.
Daemon, dressed in black, with his hands on the saddle, teased, “I saw you herding the dragons earlier.” He then looked directly at the dragons present, lingering on Vermithor and Silverwing.
His nephew truly surprised him. Rhaegar could control dragons, whether they had owners or not. Is he an enhanced version of the Dragonpit Dragonkeepers?
Rhaegar had no time for small talk. "What is it?" he asked, eager to return to King's Landing with the young dragon.
Daemon was about to reply when he noticed Iragaxys hiding under Grey Ghost's wing. He looked slightly shocked. “A young dragon I've never seen before.”
Then he examined the young dragon’s appearance. “Isn’t this just like a young Balerion?”
Rhaegar said indifferently, "It's a wild young dragon, just captured by me."
“A wild dragon? What a coincidence,” Daemon’s eyes flashed, thinking of a possibility. “My scouts reported that a wild young dragon appeared in the Smoking Sea.”
Rhaegar’s spirit lifted. “What color?” he asked hurriedly.
“Blue,” Daemon replied truthfully.
“That’s it!” Rhaegar slapped his thigh, smiling innocently. The young dragons in his dream were one black and one blue.
Daemon frowned, uncertain. “Do you know the news about the two young dragons?”
The Smoking Sea's wild young dragons are his source of information.
Rhaegar pointed to his head and smiled. “I had a dream.”
Daemon was speechless.
Rhaegar got up, patted his clothes, and said, “It's getting dark, let's go.” He climbed onto the back of his dragon.
Daemon remained silent and turned Caraxes around. The two men had a common goal regarding the young blue dragon. They must not be left alone!
“Roar!”
Cannibal shook its body lightly, ran towards the edge of the cliff, smashed a piece of it, and flew off.
Facing the setting sun, Rhaegar unfurled his dragon whip.
Grey Ghost jerked, grabbed Iragaxys in its mouth, threw it onto its back, and hurried to catch up.
Roar!
Roar...
Vermithor and Silverwing reluctantly approached the edge of the cliff and leaped off, diving towards the ground.
Hula-la!
As soon as they neared the ground, their wings spread out, following the main group in undulating flight.
Over the waves of the sea, the dragons flew together.
...
Driftmark, Hull.
Though the night is still deep, the harbor bustles with activity. On a three-masted warship, the Sea Snake stands with his hands behind his back, surveying the deck.
Shipwrights mend planks while sailors hang ropes to clean the barnacles and seaweed clinging to the hull.
Splash!
A bucket of fresh water is poured onto the deck, accompanied by the hesitant voice of a young man. "My lord, please move."
The Sea Snake turns his head, frowning slightly.
A half-grown boy with silver curls and naturally dark skin carries a bucket to wet the bloodstains on the deck.
"Brother, I can't keep up with the work."
Before the Sea Snake can respond, another boy with similar features arrives, carrying a mop. His hair is buzz-cut, revealing silver roots, and his violet eyes are anxious as he scrubs the bloodstains. It seems as if the work is endless and food is scarce.
The Sea Snake takes note and stops the older boy with curly hair. He asks casually, "Where are your parents?"
The curly-haired boy, surprised by the Lord's interest, answers carefully, "My grandfather is a boat builder. He's too old to work now."
"What's your name?"
"Addam," the boy replies, "I'm twelve years old. This is my younger brother, Alyn. He's nine."
Sea Snake looks at the two boys, his eyes reflecting an inexplicable light. Hearing their names and noting their features, he recalls a past that few know about.
"These two children have Velaryon blood," he thinks to himself.
"Do a good job, and you'll get a reward from the chief financial officer later. Just say I approved it," the Sea Snake says calmly, before walking away.
Addam and Alyn exchange surprised glances, not expecting such kindness.
"The Lord is a good man," Addam says, eyes full of admiration as he watches the figure depart.
Alyn, still struggling with the mop, mutters, "The Lord is suddenly being so nice to us. Could it be that we are his bastards?"
The brothers have no father and, not knowing his identity, can't even claim the bastard name of "Waters." They belong to the general populace without a surname.
"Shh, keep your voice down," Addam warns.
...
The Sea Snake completed a circuit of the deck before stepping down from the ship.
As he walked along the fish-scented harbor, he glanced back. The two half-grown boys were still on deck, working diligently. Satisfied, he nodded and continued toward town.
He passed an alley where a prostitute in revealing clothes was adjusting her collar as she emerged. The Sea Snake gave her a brief glance and then moved on.
The prostitute was plain, with big wavy flax-colored hair, olive skin, and dark eyes. Her exotic style was her only distinguishing feature, marking her as a streetwalker. After the Sea Snake passed, she slunk back into the alley, soon emerging with a little girl who shared her hair and skin color.
The little girl, plain with a scar on her nose, yelled into the alley, “You old bastard, you have no money to pay for my services!”
A ragged fishmonger rushed out, cursing, “Damn you, little bastard, how dare you curse me!”
Suddenly, a gust of wind carrying the smell of ashes blew through the town.
“Roar!”
A thunderous roar echoed, shaking everyone’s eardrums. The townsfolk looked up at the darkening sky. A pair of jet-black wings blotted out the sun, and green eyes like lanterns of the underworld glowed ominously. The ash-laden air felt like an invitation from an evil god.
“Roar...”
More dragon shadows soared past. The fishmonger froze, forgetting his anger. The prostitute lifted her skirt and ran, dragging the fishmonger by his belt. Only the little girl with the scar stared at the sky, her dark eyes filled with reverence.
...
Climax City.
Rhaenys watched in amazement from the window as several dragons landed outside the city.
“It’s Vermithor and Silverwing,” Laena said, standing by the window, her tone full of surprise. These dragons usually slept in Dragonmont and rarely traveled.
“Don’t worry about it. Go greet your cousin first,” Rhaenys said, regaining her composure and heading downstairs.
In the castle hall, Rhaegar and Daemon walked side by side.
Rhaenys met them at the foot of the stairs. “Rhaegar, you brought several dragons.”
“Just a little test,” Rhaegar replied, waving his hand dismissively. He then turned serious. “There are dragons in the Smoking Sea, and I need the help of House Velaryon.”