Chapter 20: The Stepstones

108 AC

Torturer's Deep, Stepstones

Every day it is the same, fly on Gaelithox and destroy the ships and then burn the fortifications and finally join the fighting on the ground to clear out caves and tunnels where the dragons can't help.

After a few near-death experiences in the latter, I stopped participating in them if nothing else but to return to my family alive, not that my soldiers had the same luxury.

The services of Gaelithox were still needed, the war while bringing about a weariness in me has helped in deepening my bond with Gaelithox and giving him valuable battle experience.

I cracked my whip above Gaelithox's head as we prepared for an attack run on Torturer's Deep.

All the while, Boremund, and his Stormlanders launched an assault from the ground.

The pirate base that controlled the island was on a good defensive point on the northern side of the promontory and was well fortified with around five to six hundred pirates holed up inside it.

Boremund could have attacked with around five times the number of defenders and still be defeated.

Fortunately for him, he had me.

The landing on the island itself was strongly contested, there were around ten large war galleys and numerous smaller ships defending the island, and surprisingly enough, they managed to repel all the attempts by the Velaryon fleet to land the Baratheon troops on the island which caused Boremund to send a messenger to Grey Gallows to ask for my help while I was in the middle of my siege.

In a night attack, I managed to burn and destroy all the ships and their crew allowing the Baratheon troops to land the following morning.

After that, it was a slugfest across the island for Boremund to deal with while I went back to my siege in Grey Gallows.

Two weeks later, I finished my siege on Grey Gallows while Boremund had taken an arrow to the leg during a skirmish which caused the entire siege to stall which in turn precipitated the need for me to finish the job as Torturer's Deep was the last remaining island in pirate hands other than Bloodstone.

Young Borros Baratheon was not happy with me taking overall command of the Stormlanders but he didn't have a choice or the stones to challenge me.

Gaelithox tucked in his wings as we dove straight towards the fortress and soon we were met by a hail of arrows, crossbow quarrels, and scorpion bolts.

Most bounced off harmlessly against Gaelithox's scales while others missed completely, I was cutting it close to what Rhaenys and Meraxes did on Hellholt but I wanted to end this quickly.

Then I raised my whip and Gaelithox unfurled his wings and then with a snap, he opened his maw.

Within a couple of minutes and a few rounds of strafing, the fortress was a burning wreck, the screams of the burning pirates reached into the sky while orange flames danced across the surface and the towers belched black smoke.

The smell of burning flesh, the smell of piss, and shit filled my nose and if I had been greener then I would have retched but now I am used to the smell, then again dragons themselves tend to smell like rotten eggs and sulfur so you get used to it after being bonded to one for more than a decade.

And that is the end of that, sure they have to smoke out any of the survivors, clean up the tunnels, and check every single cove and inlet on this island.

But as a whole, the main work in Torturer's Deep is now done which means now it is finally time to take care of the Crabfeeder.

(A week later)

Bloodstone, Stepstones

Targaryen Pavilion

"How long until the bloody builders finish?" Daemon snarled for the hundredth time as he paced around.

Corlys rolled his eyes while I left the place to take a break, Daemon has been in a foul mood the whole campaign to the point that it has started to grate on everyone's nerves, it's a miracle that there have been no desertions or mutinies.

Then again, we are on the verge of victory so that helps to tide over Daemon's antics.

In an attempt to appease Daemon, Viserys named him the Lord of Bloodstone and the Prince of the Stepstones, needless to say, that has not gone over well with him.

It seems that the title Prince of the Stepstones doesn't have the same hype as the title of Prince of Dragonstone even though they are both a bunch of barren rocks.

Daemon had half a mind to leave a campaign entirely if not for his pride.

And the presence of the Hightowers with their smug satisfied faces just exacerbated Daemon's anger. I am honestly surprised that Daemon hasn't yet torched the Hightower camp to ashes.

With the birth of Aegon 'the Younger', it seems that all the Hightower ambitions are on the verge of completion though Viserys' refusal to name Aegon as heir has brought them down a notch.

But as they say, beggars can't be choosers. And the same goes for Daemon, with Corlys and I refusing to support him in a bid to become the King of the Stepstones, he had to sulk off on his own.

This also meant that Daemon is upset with me but at this point, I could care less about his moods, he is like a petulant child in a tantrum who needs proper thrashing.

I walk towards the banquet tent that the Hightowers were so kind to set up, say what you will about the Reachmen, they know how to hold a great feast whenever and wherever.

Ormund Hightower, Otto's nephew and the Heir of the Hightower was the man who led the contingent of Reachmen and his second-in-command was Bryndon Hightower, his cousin from the secondary branch, both of them were only a few years younger than me. So connecting with them was easy and they did not make themselves difficult like Daemon. The fact that they were polite was a plus.

This wasn't even adding the massive contribution that Reach has provided for the campaign in materials, men, and provisions. For the entire army was being fed by the Reach. Wheat, barley, oats, rye, beef, pork, mutton, chicken, ale, and wine was in a steady supply to the army and all of it was coming from the Reach.

Our initial attack on the Stepstones was successful but lost its momentum due to Daemon overextending our lines in a mad dash to Bloodstone in an attempt to deny the Hightowers the spoils of victory.

Once news arrived of Alicent's pregnancy, Daemon couldn't rest unless he won the Stepstones by himself.

Daemon's dash to Bloodstone without the rest of us gave the pirates an opening to surround, ambush, and nearly destroy a quarter of the army that was under Daemon's command.

If it hadn't been for my intervention, around five thousand men would have lost their lives to Daemon's hubris, they were stuck on Dwarfstone with barely any food, and no fresh water and a third of them were injured or diseased.

The original strategy that was to choke Bloodstone in a naval blockade was changed to the Race to Bloodstone which was then changed to a bloody island-hopping campaign throughout the Stepstones culminating in Bloodstone, it was the reinforcements from the Reach that helped to overwhelm the stubborn pirates who were holed up in caves and other hidden coves where the dragons couldn't reach.

Instead of three thousand men from the Reach, as initially planned, around seven thousand men arrived as did the entire Redwyne fleet. And that made all the difference.

It has been two years since I last saw my wife and my sons while letters are exchanged, it is nowhere close to carrying what I wish to convey.

I can't wait to leave this hellhole, the Chief builder assured me that by dusk the water from the sea will start to flood the fortress and by sunrise, most of them will be dead.

Less than three thousand pirates are holed up inside the mountain fortress and soon they will be three thousand corpses.

Banquet Pavilion

I walked around the banquet table picking up an apple tart, a lemon cake, and a cup of Arbor Gold.

I talked with a couple of lords from the Reach and the Stormlands, they are rather upbeat that soon we will be returning home, nearly everyone has had their fill of fighting that they so craved at the start, and the war weariness has started to sink, I come under that category as does Corlys, though Daemon is not weary of war if anything he craves more of it.

Most of us have become lax, early in the war we were vigilant for anything and everything but now most of us simply want to sleep while the Crabfeeder drowns.

I know I do, it's like New Year parties, sometimes you just want to sleep it out.

Ormund walked up to me and said, "Prince Aegon, I have been searching for you, there is something of the utmost importance for us to discuss."

"Utmost importance," I said with a raised eyebrow, "May I ask what it may pertain to?"

"It pertains to the future prosperity of Oldtown and that of Fairmarket," Ormund answered boldly.

Interesting

Hightower Pavilion

A man who could easily pass off as a Targaryen awaits me in the pavilion.

He was sitting at the High Table while speaking with Bryndon Hightower, there are a couple of men standing next to him, one of whom was a bodyguard.

Upon seeing me enter the pavilion, he stops his conversation and rises to greet me as does Bryndon.

As I approach him he speaks to me in High Valyrian and he speaks it flawlessly with a slight Lyseni accent, "Prince Aegon, it is indeed a great honor to finally meet you, for you are truly a man who embodies the legends of Old Valyria."

Of all the flattery that I have heard in my life, this one takes the cake and I don't even know the guy.

"Thank you for your kind words, but I am afraid that you have me at a loss as to who you are," I reply looking at him, wondering if I have met him somewhere. Ormund didn't say a word other than it would be beneficial for the two of us.

He had a calculating look in his eyes and for all his flowery language, his posture and tone conveyed strength and cunning.

"A thousand apologies, your Grace, where are my manners? My name is Drazenko Rogare and I am a representative of the Rogare Banking family from Lys."

(Later that Night)

Targaryen Pavilion

"Why did that miserable worm and that insidious banker talk with you and not with me?" Daemon angrily demanded as I entered the tent.

Good thing we were the only ones there. And what was even better was that Crabfeeder and his men are drowning as we speak.

I stop him before he can start a rant on how the Rogares and the Hightowers have disrespected him by approaching him first as he is the 'overall commander' of the entire war effort.

Though last I checked, Viserys never named anyone as overall commander, it was just that Daemon and I had dragons so we held the most sway on the war council.

"I am sure the banker will talk with you separately after the war is done I am pretty sure that his brother who happens to be the Head of their family will personally come to visit you to hammer out a trade agreement for the Stepstones as done for me and the Hightower, besides he hasn't met Corlys yet either," I tell him in a placating manner.

Fortunately, he does not blow a gasket over this perceived slight.

"So, what did you and that Lyseni banker discuss?" Daemon asked me as I sat down on a chair.

I poured myself some wine before answering him, "We talked about trade and all the details that will bore you to death, I made a few trade deals with Lys and a few more banking agreements,"

"Banking agreements, are you going to put all your money in their bank," Daemon incredulously asks.

"What? Of course not, I am not going to put my money in their bank, I am going to put my money in my bank." I responded with a scoff.

"Since when did you have a bank?" Daemon asks with confusion.

"Not yet but soon, the Rogares were kind enough to help in that regard," I replied.

"Do you trust those Lyseni pillow boys?" Daemon asked with scorn.

I waved it off, "Please, I trust them as far as I can throw them, I am just milking the cow as much as I can, not to mention their gifts are rather nice."

"What gifts?" Daemon asked.

I opened my belt and I showed him the new sword that I was gifted.

The scabbard was black and it was garishly decorated with silver dragon heads. The crossguard featured silver dragon claws and an emerald in the middle, the handle was a black leather grip, and the pommel was a silver dragon with rubies for eyes that shine like red stars. The sword itself was of the bastard type, it was tapered to thrust as well as to slash, and it had three fullers incised into it to reduce the weight, the dark steel had ripples in it, ripples that were similar to those of Dark Sister and Blackfyre.

"How?" Daemon quietly asks as he looks at it.

"It used to belong to a powerful family in Lys before half the family was destroyed in Myr while the other half was sold into slavery while the possessions were sold to pay off their debts while the Rogares acquired the sword in the process," I answered.

"And before you say anything, remember that you have Dark Sister," I reminded him.

He shrugged, "Dark Sister is good enough for me, so what's his name?" He asked.

I replied, "Dragonclaw"

He nodded, "Nice and it looks like Dragonclaw will soon face his first test,"

"What do you mean?" I asked with confusion.

He nonchalantly replies, "It's only a matter of time before the Crabfeeder and his men come out and fight, if they stay inside they will drown."

"Which is why we sealed all the gates?" I cautiously said.

"All the gates, no, not all, a postern gate was purposefully left unsealed, my men found the gate but I told them to leave it be, it just so happens to be right opposite the Hightower camp, after all, it isn't a proper fight if we don't give them a chance but I may have forgotten to tell the rest of the war council," Daemon says with a smirk that I have come to dislike.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I scream at him.

"Oh nothing, it is just that I figured the details would bore you to death." He replied with a mocking smile.

Just then horns start to blare out throughout the camp as everyone who is sleeping is rudely awakened and then to my horror, I hear the sounds of men screaming and the sounds of steel on steel.

Then a frantic and breathless guard rushes into the pavilion, "Your Graces, the pirates have managed to escape, they are attacking the camp."