Chapter 109: Found You Too
"I've told you, I have nothing to do with Tyrosh," Racallio said, twirling a flower blade. "But you're right about one thing, Lohar — The third daughter's Kingdom isn't united. Once that Hightowerr left, the Archon of Tyrosh sent me a letter." He pointed at Lohar without mercy. "Look at how many of the ships you brought here are from Lys. The other daughters have been dissatisfied for a long time."
Lohar gritted his teeth, glaring at Racallio as he threw his curved blade to the ground. "White flag, surrender. I'm done!"
At that moment, Shadowmare swooped down from the sky, landing steadily on the flagship of the Silver Fleet, the massive Silverblood Prince, which had five hundred oars. This ship, along with the Silent Lord and Draezell's Glory, formed the core of the Vaelarys Silver Fleet. The captain was Samwell Harmosa, a strong young man who had been knighted by Draezell during the war against Dorne. He had since become the backbone of the Silver Fleet.
"Prince Rey, the enemy wants to surrender," Samwell said, holding his battle axe. He was still bare-chested, wearing only a breastplate. His messy golden hair looked like it hadn't been groomed in ages. The young captain raised his axe, signaling whether they should accept the surrender or not.
"Let him go," Rey said, shaking his head. "My brother said that Triarchy is unstable, and after the war, they'll likely fall apart. Sam, you're familiar with the situation at sea. Lord Gonzo and Sebastian should have reached their designated position by now."
Samwell nodded. "If there weren't a storm, Draezell's Glory should have already led the Silver Fleet to the predetermined location and completed the encirclement of the eastern enemies with the Velaryon fleet."
Rey nodded understandingly, then signaled as the Shadowmare took off, heading toward Dragon's Nest.
"Let Lohar go?" Racallio said, surprised, as he looked at the messenger from the Vaelarys family. Then he understood what the Vaelarys wanted to do, and tossed his long hair. "I see. By the way, about the previous promise..."
"House Vaelarys never goes back on their word, Lord of Bloodstone m," the messenger said.
Seeing the encircling ships stop advancing, Lohar understood the Vaelarys intentions. He sighed deeply. "Lysandro, Lysandro, you underestimated the strength of House Vaelarys." The Lysene pirate ship, flying a white flag, slowly withdrew from the battlefield.
---
Meanwhile, Otto Hightower, who had been waiting day after day, finally saw his mercenary fleet arrive. Then, he saw the sea horse sail and the silver dragon laurel leaf sails rising on the horizon.
The Hand of the king watched in despair as the Triarchy warships, which had been escorting the transport ships, symbolically resisted for a moment before turning and fleeing. He watched as the transport ships raised their white flags, not looking back as they swiftly retreated.
As Otto watched the transport ships trapped in the encirclement, one by one sinking into the sea at the hands of the Silver Fleet and the Sea Serpent Fleet, more and more ships raised white flags and fled eastward. He saw White Knight Willis Fell, who had been in charge of the mercenary army, knocked off his seat by a Vaelarys sailor with a single blow from an axe. He saw the golden dragon banners of King Aegon burning to ash in the flames.
Otto Hightower immediately realized what had happened. At that moment, Lord Borros stood behind him, and together, they watched the fires rising on the broken ships in the bay.
"Lord Otto," Lord Borros sighed, "If Vaelarys hadn't intervened, I would have gladly supported Aegon." He suppressed a torrent of anger but held it in. "I have four daughters, but not a single son. I love my daughters dearly, but I know only a son can inherit my position. But alas..." Lord Borros moved closer to the stone-faced Otto. "What I need to ensure now is the survival of House Baratheon." The Lord took the queen's four-way banner from the knight and thrust it forcefully into the battlement next to them.
"I understand, Lord Borros," Otto replied, closing his eyes, unwilling to look at the raging sea and the sinking transport ships. "But Rhaenyra's reign won't last. The people of King's Landing have limits to their tolerance. Rhaenyra's blockade of King's Landing lasted a month, and then she imposed heavy taxes. The people of King's Landing are finding it hard to bear a queen like that ruling over them."
"The Blacks are not just Rhaenyra, Otto," Borros shook his head. "But what about you? Oh, you probably don't know yet, but Prince Aemond has fallen in battle. He and Vhagar were struck down by Prince Draezell riding Vermithor over the Red Fork, witnessed by tens of thousands. Afterward, the army from the Riverlands completely crushed Lord Jason's forces. The Westerlands have already surrendered."
"And the Reach?" Otto asked, gripping the battlement.
"Lord Ormuns's main force was ambushed by the dragons at Mead River. Silverwing and Vermax burned over a thousand men. Lord Ormund retreated all the way to Oldtown before he could regroup his shattered army. Now, Lord Rowan and Lord Kaon have surrounded Oldtown. Lord Redwyne has betrayed you, leading the arblr fleet and the ships of Obara Dayne to encircle Oldtown's port. If it hadn't been for Sir Hobert's quick thinking, the young prince and princess would have been captured. Now, Queen Helaena refuses to fight, choosing to stay at Starry Sept to protect the children."
Otto closed his eyes, listening as Lord Borros recounted the series of bad news.
"Has there been any word from His Majesty the King?" Otto let out the last suffocating breath from his chest and slowly stood at the battlement.
Lord Borros simply watched him, not ordering anyone to apprehend him, nor offering any assistance.
"My ambition has harmed my daughter and my grandchildren," Otto raised his head, still keeping his eyes tightly shut. "And my House... after this war, it's likely there won't be a House Hightower anymore."
With those words, the hand of three kings drew the dagger from his waist and forcefully drove it into his throat. His body fell like a leaf from the high tower of Storm's End, silently sinking into the bottomless depths of Broken Ship Bay.
---
Dragonstone.
A small boat, filled with salted fish, slowly approached the shore. A young, bald man wrapped in tattered cloth sneezed forcefully. "Larys, is this the plan you came up with?"
"Your Majesty, this is the only option we have," another figure, also wrapped in rags, revealed himself to be the Master of Whisperers, Larys Strong. "Your Majesty, as you heard on the way here, Rhaenyra's rule has already sparked the people's wrath. As long as you return to King's Landing in glory, they will welcome you with the most fervent enthusiasm."
"Seven Hells," Aegon rubbed his smooth, bald head. "Does it have to be like this?"
"Only this way can we guarantee your safety, Your Majesty," Marston waters said softly, his sword hidden beneath the salted fish, the White Knight anxiously watching the deserted shore.
"According to our intelligence, the two wild dragons of Dragonstone, Seasmoke and Grey ghost, often hunt in this area. Your Majesty, as long as we tame even one of them, we still have a chance of turning the tide."
"Achoo." Aegon sneezed again and muttered, "I'd rather hatch another Sunfyre. By the way, has there been any news from Aemond?"
"Your Majesty, as long as you take flight from Dragonstone riding a dragon, Prince Aemond will naturally come to join you," Larys Strong said with a smile.
"Good, good," Aegon threw the tattered cloth aside and, along with Marston Waters, jumped ashore, vigorously shaking his wet arms. "Seven Hells, was this cloth used to be covered of rotten fish?" Aegon sniffed his sleeve and couldn't help but gag.
---
Meanwhile, on high Tide, Daemon felt the warmth emanating from the Bloodstone in his chest. He had already heard from the ravens at High Tide about Vhagar's demise. The old Prince looked in the direction where the heat was strongest.
"I've found you, too."
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