Chapter 105: The Return of Maegor
"A Hand without a kingdom... how pitiful," the governor of Lys sneered as he watched Otto Hightower leave alongside the other two governors. Turning back to the mural depicting Lys's defiance against the Volantene fleet during the Bleeding Years, he chuckled. From behind a tapestry embroidered with the Lysene goddess of pleasure, two men emerged from a concealed door in the wall.
Lysandro Rogare, dressed in luxurious silks, smirked as well. "The Hightower's are finished. Otto should be thinking about how to preserve what remains of his house, not chasing after the Iron Throne. Bambarro is a fool; you're far better suited to rule at my side."
"Lord Rogare," the Lysene governor groaned as he rose to stretch his stiff legs. "Otto brought millions in gold to Essos, including a substantial loan from the Iron Bank." He glanced at Rogare's piercing blue eyes with a sly grin. "I suspect you had a hand in convincing the Iron Bank to approve that loan."
"Isn't it every financier's dream to bleed the Iron Bank dry?" Lysandro laughed heartily before turning to Sharako Lohar, the commander of a pirate fleet. "Well, Lohar, are you taking the job? With Otto's gold, you could reclaim the title of Pirate King from that fop, Raechalino."
Lohar, who had spent years rebuilding his fleet after the Velaryon silver fleet decimated it, frowned deeply. "You want me to go against the Velaryon silver fleet?" He gestured at himself incredulously. "It took me seven years to rebuild just seventy ships. If I lose them again, who will protect your sea trade routes?"
"I never said those fifty ships would come from you," Lysandro replied coolly, plucking a gold coin from Lohar's chest and twirling it deftly between his fingers. Lohar's eyes followed the coin, his hand twitching to snatch it back. "Myr and Tyrosh have plenty of captains unhappy with the silver fleet's dominance in the Summer Sea. Convince them that all they need to do is harass the Velaryons, make them believe Otto's mercenaries are landing along the Dornish coast. No need for real battles."
"That's as good as sending them to their deaths," Lohar muttered, finally reclaiming his coin and tucking it protectively into his necklace. "But three thousand gold dragons per ship? That's enough to make any fool charge headfirst into the fray."
The three men laughed heartily before moving on to other matters.
"Have you heard about the situation in King's Landing?" the Lysene governor asked, retaking his seat. "I hear the Dragon Queen's reign isn't going as smoothly as she imagined."
Lohar, curious, looked between the two governors. Without their vast network of spies, he was ignorant of such developments.
"How else do you think Otto got his hands on so much gold?" Lysandro smirked, pouring wine into three cups. He sipped from each cup in turn before passing them to the others.
"The Dragon Queen is drowning in troubles—money and food, to be precise. She burned Storm's End's army and, allegedly, even killed the Baratheon lord's daughter. The stag has retaliated by blockading the Kingsroad and the routes leading into the Reach. The Reach is still at war, so all she inherited was an empty treasury and half a million starving mouths in King's Landing. What she needs now is money."
Lysandro understood Rhaenyra's predicament well. With the silver fleet and the Sea Snake's Velaryon fleet in her control, she didn't have to worry about food or naval supremacy—it was only a matter of time. But her treasury, empty to the point of lacking even rats, was her fatal flaw. The Velaryons were wealthy, but their wealth wasn't liquid. House Vaelarys had gold, but Rhaenyra wasn't foolish enough to risk antagonizing Draezell by demanding their aid outright.
That left only taxation. Faced with no other options, her Master of Coin, Bartimos Celtigar, was forced to resurrect the draconian tax policies of his ancestor, Edwell Celtigar. Port taxes tripled, and forty-seven essential goods were slapped with heavy tariffs. In King's Landing, citizens now had to pay in-kind taxes on cloth, salt, white bread, wine, ale, honey, and fresh meat. Every shop, tavern, inn, and builder in the city was burdened with nine new levies.
Alongside these taxes—abolished for over eighty years—Lord Celtigar introduced new levies. The wine and ale taxes doubled again from Edwell Celtigar's original rates. The port taxes, already tripled, were now raised threefold once more. Every shop in King's Landing was required to pay a hefty opening fee, and inns and brothels had to pay a tax of one silver stag per bed. The controversial gate tax from King Jaehaerys's era was also reinstated and tripled.
All residents of King's Landing, from the lords of the upper districts to the beggars of Flea Bottom, were required to pay a property tax based on the land and wealth they "occupied." Lord Celtigar even openly declared, "This is the price they pay for cheering for the usurper Aegon."
At the same time, he encouraged the citizens of King's Landing to visit the Dragonpit to witness Queen Rhaenyra's execution of traitors—tickets cost only three copper pennies for the spectacle of a beheading.
By scraping every last coin from the city, Queen Rhaenyra managed to slightly refill the royal treasury, but the cost was the deep resentment of all King's Landing.
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Smack.
In the Velaryon camp in the Reach, Prince Jacaerys angrily threw a letter to the ground. "How could Lord Bartimos do this? Is there no one in King's Landing to counsel my mother?"
Valar picked up the letter, glanced at the dense list of taxes, and felt his scalp tingle. He quickly passed it to Lord Thaddeus Rowan. This great lord of Goldengrove had joined forces with Vaelarys's army three days ago, bringing 15,000 men, including 3,000 heavily armored knights. The wealth of the Reach allowed even landless or mercenary knights to afford basic plate armor.
Most nobles from the northern and eastern Reach had rallied to Vaelarys, confident that the Greens, having lost two dragons, were nearing their end.
They included families such as the Fossoways of Cider Hall, the Merryweathers of Longtable, the Caswells of Bitterbridge, the Cuyes of Sunhouse, the Hightowers of Oldtown, and the Oakhearts of Old Oak.
"Is Lord Bartimos trying to make the Queen lose the hearts of the people?" Lord Thaddeus immediately understood the peril. However, he also knew that Bartimos had no better options. "Your Grace, we should divide our forces and clear the Kingsroad so that the Reach's grain can reach King's Landing as soon as possible."
"My lord, King's Landing isn't short of grain," Valar said bluntly, showing that even he could see the obvious. "What King's Landing lacks is gold. Unless you can turn grain into gold before sending it to King's Landing, it won't solve the problem."
He glanced worriedly at the silent Prince Jacaerys, whose troubled expression was evident.
The letter came from Tigarro, the intelligence chief of House Velaryon—or, as the family referred to him, the "Shadowfinger." Draezell's inner circle of advisors, called his Five Fingers, were bound to him by blood vows.
The Bloodfinger, Aslan Rondel, commanded the Silverblood Army.
The Goldfinger, Sebastian Pyreflame, managed the treasury.
The Steelfinger, Hoffa Lawkeeper, oversaw laws and justice.
The Silverfinger, Rey Vaelarys(temporarily acting), handled estate affairs.
The Shadowfinger, Tigarro Dargaleon, managed intelligence.
Each served Draezell with unwavering loyalty.
The Shadowfinger, a brooding and unflinching man, had a way with words that cut straight to the point. In his letter, Prince Jacaerys read the bitter truths about the people's sentiments in King's Landing toward Rhaenyra.
The Return of Maegor
No wonder Prince Jacaerys was so furious. "Lord Valar, it seems we must accelerate our march." But years of meticulous guidance from Draezell had made Jacaerys a man who rarely allowed anger to cloud his judgment. "You're right—the key issue is that the Greens have taken all the gold. We need to reclaim it as soon as possible."
The prince declared resolutely, "If I'm not mistaken, one of the Hightower family's destinations for the gold is Oldtown."
"Ha! That's why you're my brother's best pupil," Valar exclaimed, leaping to his feet. After waiting for Lord Thaddeus's reinforcements for days, his patience was wearing thin. The prospect of dragon combat had him brimming with excitement.
"Lord Thaddeus, we must march at full speed. Defeating Ormund's main forces and capturing Oldtown will solve all our problems."
"Shouldn't we wait for Prince Draezell?" Lord Thaddeus asked cautiously. He preferred waiting for Vermithor to handle Vhagar in the north before joining forces in the south. With three dragons, victory would be assured.
"It would be ideal if my brother came, but the Greens only have one dragon left in the south at most," Valar replied. "Silverwing and I are more than enough to deal with Dreamfyre. With Jace and Vermithor, we have no reason to fear the Green armies."
Lord Thaddeus agreed. Waiting for Draezell would only ensure a guaranteed victory, but their current strength—both in numbers and dragons—already made them overwhelming.
As the Black faction's army in the Reach began its steady march, events unfolded elsewhere.
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Storm's End, the Stormlands.
In the great hall of Storm's End, Lord Borros Baratheon sat coldly upon his throne, glaring at the black-clad figure who had slipped into the castle via the waterways. The man removed his hood, revealing the bearded and haggard face of Otto Hightower. Having secretly hidden aboard a Pentoshi merchant ship, Otto had finally returned to Westeros and now stood before his intended audience.
"Lord Otto, don't tell me you've come to mourn my daughter," Borros said expressionlessly.
"Your foolishness cost me a daughter, the Baratheon's honor, and my money. I've already made it clear—the Baratheons will look out for themselves until this war is over."
"Lord Borros, I have but one request," the Hand of the King said calmly, handing over a parchment.
As the maester whispered the contents of the note into Borros's ear, the lord's expression changed.
"Do you intend to destroy House Baratheon, you Hightower scum?"
"No, my lord," Otto replied confidently. "This is your chance for vengeance and an opportunity for House Baratheon to reap immense rewards. The rightful king will not forget the service of his loyal supporters, my lord."
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