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The Dragon's Dance: Maekar's Legacy

In the tumultuous world of Westeros, Viserra Targaryen’s calculated seduction of Baelon yields a son, Maekar Targaryen, who is destined to walk a path of intrigue and betrayal. Maekar, a self-insert character with a deep understanding of the future, is far from a noble hero. Instead, he’s a complex figure, navigating the treacherous Game of Thrones with ambition and ruthlessness. This story explores his journey through power and deception, revealing a character who is anything but virtuous. For those eager to dive deeper into Maekar's dark and twisted tale, advance chapters are available on Patreon.com/PercivalLannister. Witness the rise of a dragon who dances with destiny in a world where survival often demands sacrifice and cunning.

Percival_Lannister · Book&Literature
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7 Chs

Chapter 4: The Stepstones

109 AC

The Titan of Braavos roared out in a loud groaning and grinding blast as midnight came. The sounds of revelry in the city were nearly drowned out but resurged immediately after the Titan stopped for the climax of the Unmasking. As everyone celebrated by removing their masks after ten days and nights of revelry and feasting, Tyland did the same. The people around him in the Sealord's Palace were in the same spirits as those in the streets outside for the Unmasking of Braavos was something that united everyone in the city.

A masked ball for the entire city with the best part of it happening in the Sealord's Palace. Prince Maekar was the guest of honor for the old and sickly Sealord and some of that honor went to his squires. Tyland was certain that he would be invited as well as a Lannister even if he had not been the Prince's squire.

Instead of directly going to the Stepstones, Prince Maekar decided to go to Braavos to supplement their fleet with sellsails and hired galleys from Braavos. In the process give the men a last night of revelry before jumping into war, or in this case ten days and nights of feasting and revelry. Not that Tyland was complaining, he had always desired to visit Braavos during the Unmasking of Uthero. He never expected to visit Braavos whilst squiring for Prince Maekar. Jason would certainly be jealous back in Casterly Rock and for once Tyland would have something that he didn't have first.

Tyland turned from the window to the gallery inside to see his fellow squires, Amos Bracken, Robert Rowan, and Byron Swann in a drinking contest along with a few other Braavosi noblemen that they had befriended during their stay in the city. All five of them were quite drunk, Byron more so. They were probably playing their tenth drinking game of the night.

"What are you fools doing? And isn't Byron too young to be in a drinking contest?" He asked as he walked over to them to see Amos pouring wine for everyone.

"I ham shnot shtoo younsh," Byron drunkenly sputtered before retching into a bowl that had been conveniently placed near his feet.

"He is done for isn't he," Robert pointed out as he tried and failed to dance a gold dragon in his finger. He was too drunk to coordinate it.

"It's a new drinking game that Prince Maekar plays, it's called Never Have I Ever," Amos answered after filling everyone's cups. Tyland was familiar with the game, Prince Maekar used to play all sorts of drinking games with his friends from the Fire Watch and the Admiralty.

"Right, and speaking of which where is the Prince," Tyland asked as he took a seat at the table.

"Last I saw, he was with The Nightingale, and the Black Diamond, no doubt they must be in one of their barges," One of the Braavosi at the table said, his name was Tormo Dimittis, and along with him was his brother Anto, they were friends that Tyland and the others struck up during their stay in Braavos.

"Ah yes, the Black Diamond, one of the greatest courtesan of Braavos and the same who rejected you and had you kicked off her barge," Tyland said to Amos with a wide grin who looked away in embarrassment while the others laughed.

"Don't forget the Nightingale," Robert added laughing. While they had to beg and grovel to get courtesans to notice them, nearly every woman in Braavos, courtesan or not would fling themselves at Prince Maekar and why wouldn't they, he was a Royal Prince and a dragon rider while they were but squires who got their tongues tied upon seeing them. Perhaps Jason would have been able to charm his way to the Nightingale's bed or at the very least buy his way to it, Tyland could do the same but it would mean that his friends would become jealous.

"Don't forget, we need to be up tomorrow. We are leaving for the Stepstones and if we are too hungover, Prince Maekar will have our hides," Tyland warned. For some strange reason, no matter how much he drinks, Prince Maekar never suffers from a hangover.

"In that case, I suppose that we shouldn't let Byron play again, he is already too drunk," Robert replied pointing to a two-and-ten nameday old boy who was still shaking. He was the youngest of the lot while Tyland and Amos were the oldest at five and ten.

"It would be better if none of you play," Prince Maekar's voice cut through them. Startled, all of them turned behind to see the Prince looking at them with a smirk.

"My Prince, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else," Amos frantically answers.

Prince Maekar laughed with a glint in his eyes that promised a very cruel punishment, "Oh, don't worry about me my dear Amos but I will say this. I will not stop you from playing this game tonight but if I find any of you hungover tomorrow morning, I will make all four of you clean all four decks of the Fiery Drake without any help from the sailors. Remember, we are leaving at first light."

And then the prick sauntered off with a smirk acting like he was magnanimous. Tyland noticed that the Black Diamond and the Nightingale waiting for him at the stairs heading to the pier where the barges were kept.

That immediately sobered Tyland up as it did for both Robert and Amos but not Byron. The Fiery Drake was the flagship of the Royal Fleet, a huge four-decked dromond of four hundred oars and the mightiest of all ships in Westeros. Tyland did not want to clean the decks like how the deckhands clean the decks every morning.

"Oh shit, Byron will never recover in time," Tyland worriedly said as Amos tried to slap Byron back to sobriety.

"This will be worse than that time he sent us off to find the breastplate stretcher," Robert began to panic, a panic that began to spread to all of them except the drunk Byron who then vomited onto Amos' doublet.

"What is a breastplate stretcher?" Anto and Tormo asked curiously only to be met with a "DON'T ASK," from everyone.

"How do we get rid of his hangover?" Amos frantically asked as he tried to clean his doublet.

"He is still drunk, you need him to have a hangover before you can get rid of it," Tormo pointed out with a chuckle as he poured more wine for himself.

Amos grimly remarked, "We are never letting Byron drink again."

Robert darkly replied, "We are never letting you start drinking games again."

"I suggest you give him water and along with it, go to a healer or an apothecary shop and see if they have something. I am sure that they will," Tormo helpfully said but then Anto continued, "Though I doubt that any shop is open at this time and most healers might themselves be drunk."

Amos declared, "Doesn't matter, we must try to find something," He quickly got up but he barely took a step before staggering and falling face first.

Robert looked to Tyland, "I can't move, even when I turn my head, it starts spinning."

Tyland then tried to get up and for a moment it was alright but then he immediately retched onto the table.

"We are fucked aren't we," Tyland despondently said as he wiped his mouth and as Robert began weeping.

"Get to work, boys," Prince Maekar said with a wicked chuckle as the four of them groaned while the smirking sailors handed them the brush and the buckets.

Bloodstone, Stepstones

"With Qoren Martell siding with the Triarchy, we now have four enemies against us. Our supply ships from Driftmark are being intercepted by Racallio Ryndoon and whenever Daemon flies off to find him not that he ever finds him Craghas Drahar and Sharako Lohar attack from the north and south and the same thing happens the other way around. All the while the Dornish have now landed troops on the Western islands," Vaemond half complains and half reports as Corlys closes his eyes in tiredness.

Corlys felt a headache coming, "What is our situation about our supplies?"

"We are rationing. Even that won't last us a month, not one of our ships can escape Racallio Ryndoon," Vaemond grouses. The low supplies and the endless fighting were having a bad effect on the men's morale. It was only a matter of time before the men lost the will to fight.

"We have a fucking dragon and its rider and yet we find ourselves losing," Vaemond snarled, and while Corlys didn't like his nephew's attitude he couldn't fault him for it.

Corlys rubs his face as he says, "We have but one dragon and our enemy comes from four different places. Whenever Caraxes even approaches them they immediately run and sail away in all directions and if Daemon spends too much chasing them, another one of them turns around and attacks while Daemon is away."

Even a dragon rider cannot be everywhere at all times, most times the enemy attacks the garrisons in far-flung islands, slaughters them, sets everything on fire, and then leaves, leaving nothing but ash and corpses for Corlys and Daemon to find. It was bleeding Corlys dry in both blood and gold. If those cowards bothered to stay and fight, they would have certainly won.

During the first phase of the war, Corlys and Daemon had cornered Craghas Drahar at Bloodstone, only for him to slip out and escape the night before the first assault. One of his trusted captains was lax in maintaining the blockade and it cost them the final victory. Daemon took the captain's head for his failure and Corlys couldn't find himself to stop him yet in the end, it made no difference for Cragahs Drahar had escaped to rejoin the Triarchy to lead a new fleet from Myr.

Things became so bad that many were starting to desert, not just Daemon's sellswords but even his men, true Velaryon men born and raised in Driftmark.

"Why can't we just take the fight to the Triarchy and attack them instead?" Vaemond then asked with a snarl, "We may not have the men to occupy them but we can sack them or something. Why can't Daemon simply fly and burn them to ash?"

Corlys sighed, "That would have ended the war for us and for good if not for both the King and the Sealord. Among the conditions for them to support us in this venture, we couldn't attack any of the Free Cities no matter what, if we did then Viserys would cut off all the gold while the Sealord would instead switch sides and attack us along with high tariffs for goods from Driftmark and to merchants from Driftmark. He made it a point to include the House of Black and White in that conversation as many times as he could, his implication was obvious even for a child."

No doubt the Sealord doesn't want to set up a precedent where a dragon-riding Targaryen can attack a Free City and raze it to the ground. Even Aegon the Conqueror attacked the Volantene fleet meant for attacking Lys during the Century of Blood and no more.

Nobody in Essos wants a Targaryen flying around destroying the Free Cities despite how much they hate each other, they hate being under the fear of the dragonlords more and love their independence much more. Even Daemon for all his bravado didn't want to risk the Faceless men, nobody in their right mind would. The fact that Corlys betrothed his only daughter to the Sealord's son meant nothing in that regard.

The only piece of good news that he received since starting the war for the Stepstones was that the leach Otto Hightower had been dismissed as Hand of the King for pestering Viserys too much on the issue of succession. The wine felt good and sweet that day. A sweet moment in a bitter war.

Corlys heard the screeching sound of Caraxes, it meant that Daemon was back, not that it made a difference at this point.

When Daemon entered the command tent, he threw his helmet at the cot before plopping himself on the chair next to him and immediately poured himself whatever was left of their watered-down wine. His once golden cloak was now dirty and bloody, you could barely see the gold.

"The garrison in Torturer's Deep is dead, the camp has been burnt to ash," Daemon announced after drinking.

Corlys sighed and asked, "Who is now in charge of Torturer's Deep?"

Daemon shrugged, "I would assume that it is the Stranger who is in charge for I did not leave any garrison there. The men were on the verge of mutiny and even if I forced them to stay, they would have deserted in the night or worse, defected."

Daemon had a point, things were getting desperate for them, if Corlys were a lesser man, he would have gathered his men and sailed back home with his tail between his legs. But he wasn't a lesser man, he was a man who had seen every inch and breadth of the world, he would be damned if he ever gave up in front of a bunch of pirates.

A messenger then entered the tent and gave the missive to Corlys, and left immediately. The way Daemon treats messengers is well known.

Corlys opened the missive and read, he felt relief and apprehension flow through him. He put it down and turned to Vaemond, "Vaemond, can you go and check our supplies? See to it that they are in good order and that nothing is missing since the last inspection."

His nephew was surprised but he followed his order without question and left the tent. Daemon turned to Corlys and pointed to the message, "What is it?"

"Reinforcements are arriving," Corlys answered at first to which Daemon raised his eyebrow, "From where?"

Corlys quietly answers, "From King's Landing and Braavos."

Daemon is silent for a while before he asks, "Who is leading them?"

Corlys doesn't answer first before saying, "You know full well who is leading them."

Corlys could feel Daemon boil from within before he flung the empty pitcher across the tent, "I would rather die than accept his help."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Corlys asked after a few minutes of tense silence, "I figured that you would have outgrown your childish hate by now."

"Childish," Daemon scoffs, "Growing up, I feared for Viserys, I was his younger brother and he was meant to be King after our father. I feared that whore Viserra would try to make Maekar as King, my grandmother certainly thought so. That fear increased when Viserra took Silverwing and threatened to burn Oldtown to the ground if my father and grandfather sent Maekar to the Citadel."

"For the most part, I saw Maekar as a threat to Viserys, not because of him but because of his mother. The fact that the little prick was a cunt hiding under a veneer of harmlessness made it more so. Both my father and brother saw Maekar as a disinterested boy more interested in sleeping in the middle of court and inclined to sweet wine rather than the cunning fox inside that I saw him as. And tell me Corlys, is the same person who now sits by brother's side as Master of Ships the same boy who you saw at the Great Council."

Corlys couldn't deny it, the lazy prince more interested in escaping his overbearing mother during the Great Council was not the same as the one who now happened to be one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms.

"He played everyone for a fool after he bonded with Vermithor after that I begged Viserys to bond with Dreamfyre, seven hells, even Aemma begged him to do so, to ensure that any of Viserra's plots should there ever be one, never come to fruition but he steadfastly refused to do as a stubborn ox. He believed that Maekar and Viserra wouldn't stoop as low as to commit kinslaying."

Corlys thought back to the time when he plotted with Viserra only for Maekar to put an end to it by declaring that he would not commit kinslaying.

"You are right when you say that Maekar was a fox who deceived most of us into thinking that he was harmless until he placed his axe at necks but Viserys is right when he says that Maekar and Viserra won't commit kinslaying. People haven't forgotten Maegor, especially after what Saera said. Nobody is more accursed than the kinslayer. Why else do you think Rhaenys and I didn't start a war when Rhaenys was stripped of her inheritance? Nobody wants to be a kinslayer."

"How can you be certain that Maekar won't become a kinslayer?" Daemon then asked narrowing his eyes, "Otto hides his ambition behind a cloak of duty and honor while Maekar hides it behind a cloak of laziness and indifference, no wonder the two of them are friends."

"Because if Maekar wanted to seize the throne, then he could have done it at any point since when you were exiled," Corlys pointed out, "His Fire Watch holds much more power in King's Landing now much more than the City Watch which is now in disfavor. But Maekar hasn't done anything of the sort but serve Viserys faithfully. The alliance between Otto and Maekar died the minute Otto was removed from his position."

And with Harwin Strong in the City Watch and Lyonel Strong as Hand, the City Watch might find itself back in favor. Though they might never reach the heights they had under Daemon, not with a powerful Fire Watch in the city.

"His bloody Fire Watch," Daemon muttered, "He and Otto were trying to counter me and it was obvious for anyone with half a brain. Why the bloody hell Viserys agreed to it I will never understand. The City Watch could deal with fires in the city just as well. They had been dealing with fires all this while."

Daemon then angrily pointed out, "Last time I checked, murder was a crime, yet the second I had left the city, my men began to be murdered by Maekar's men in broad daylight and Viserys did nothing but strip me of my rightful place as his heir. It was only after word began to spread across the realm and beyond that a war had erupted in the city between my men and Maekar's that Viserys finally did something about it. Last I heard, nobody was punished for it, everyone began to pretend that it never occurred."

Corlys responded evenly, "Everyone knows that Maekar was responsible for starting the murders but everyone also knows why he did so. Your men tried to extort Maekar's tenants in broad daylight. And let's face it Daemon, if this was anybody else's tenants nobody would have given a fuck but it wasn't and more importantly, I doubt that your men would dare do something like that unless you gave the blessing for it."

Daemon looked away for a moment, "I expected him to complain to Viserys about it in the Small Council where Viserys would side with me but everything flew out of the window after that one drunken toast that I never should have said."

"But you did say it and Maekar took matters into his own hands, something you will learn in life. Nothing ever goes the way you plan," Corlys replied to which Daemon chuckled, "I bet you have a lot of experience in that."

"And what about my title as King of the Stepstones?" Daemon then asked as the two of them settled into silence.

"We will have to negotiate it with Maekar, he is not wholly without reason as you might think," Corlys answered after thinking for a while.

 A fortnight later

"I am terribly sorry that I am late, we would have been here earlier but I was invited to be the guest of honor during this year's celebration for the Unmasking of Braavos," Maekar said with a smile as a haggard-looking Corlys, Daemon, and Vaemond glared at him and his officers as they met in the command tent.

Then the prick had the gall to ask, "What happened to you guys? You all look like you haven't eaten or slept for a month much less taken a bath."

Corlys quickly spoke before Daemon snapped at him, "In case, you didn't realize we have been fighting a war for the past three years. As of late the tide of the war has turned against us and we find ourselves hard pressed to win."

Corlys was grateful that Maekar made it through with his entire fleet, the supplies he brought with him were a godsend and for once the men's morale soared. Corlys took a look at Maekar and his men, they were fresh and ready, a few weeks and they would be just like everyone else.

Their armor looked freshly made but it was Maekar's armor that stood out the most, the silver plate armor had the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen decorated in black diamonds on its breastplate. His helm placed on the table was fashioned with bat-like steel dragon wings on the side.

"A tale as to which I would love to know why," Maekar replied, "Is Caraxes not good enough to deal with a bunch of pirates?" He was trying to provoke Daemon into lashing out in front of his captains, "According to rumors in the Seven Kingdoms, they saw whenever the Blood Wyrm arrives his enemies flee for their lives."

"You little bitch," Daemon hissed, "You know full well about our troubles here. The fact that they run away whenever I show up is the problem, they don't stay long enough to die, even when I try to chase them, someone else attacks when I am away. We don't know when they attack and by the time we arrive it's too late for our garrisons, any spies that we try to place amongst their ranks are either killed or fed false reports to trick us."

Maekar pointed out, "I must say that is a serious amount of coordination and trust between the three admirals. I would have figured that all three of them would rather eat their right leg instead of working with each other."

Vaemond then spoke up, "But how do they do it?"

Maekar shrugged, "Isn't it obvious, they plan these attacks well ahead of time, one of them attacks at a certain place at a certain time that is predetermined to draw out Daemon or Corlys or maybe both, and after a certain amount of time has passed the others will attack their predetermined places to inflict the most damage. There are only two of you and three of them, now four. Even if Corlys were to split his fleet to deal with all of them, all it would do would be stretch the fleet too thin and leave them at the mercy of a fully stocked and ready fleet from one of the Free City that would be twice their size."

Daemon finished it, "And if I didn't take the bait in wait for the others, it would give the one who did the initial attack free reign to do whatever the fuck he wants, Even when I attempt to chase them each ship splits off on its own, I destroy a few every time but nowhere close to what I can if the fleets were together. In the end, the ships make it to any of the three cities."

Daemon could easily outfly the fastest ships but hunting each ship one after the other took a lot of time and the Free Cities weren't very far, once the cities came into view from the horizon, Daemon had to break off his pursuit.

Maekar then remarked, "I must say, whoever does their probability calculations is very good," Whatever that meant, Maekar had a habit of speaking in strange words.

Daemon turned to Maekar, "Did Viserys allow you to attack the Free Cities?"

Maekar shook his head, "No I am afraid not, I am under the same political and diplomatic restrictions as you are."

"How many men and ships did you bring?" Corlys asked as one of Maekar's squires poured newly brought Arbor gold for them. The sweet wine was a delight at this point.

Maekar replied, "Around six thousand men and ninety ships. Sixty of them are from the Royal Fleet while the rest are from Braavos. How many do you have?"

"Around fifteen hundred men and less than twenty sea-worthy ships," Corlys answered after drinking deeply from his cup.

Daemon asked after he drank, "So what is the plan to deal with these vermin? I refuse to stay fighting like this for another damn day,"

"I was going to suggest that we do the same thing that you have been doing all this while for at least a month," Maekar replied, "We need the Triarchy thinking that my arrival hasn't changed anything. They must believe that they still have the advantage, there are two dragons instead of one but now we have four enemies as well."

"And after a month of insufferable hell, what do you intend on doing?" Daemon asked scoffing.

"We have a public fight, a fight about which everyone with an ear hears, especially the Triarchy, and then after the fight we both fly off in different directions and abandon the campaign, leaving Corlys and our men to the tender mercies of the Triarchy. Corlys here will withdraw all ships and men to defend Bloodstone, letting them claim back all the remaining islands, before gathering together for the final assault on Bloodstone. This time without dragons, they will take their chances."

"Everyone knows that Daemon and I don't like each other so they will never expect us to return," Maekar finishes.

"Corlys will make a fine juicy bait," Daemon said with a chuckle.

"True, the Triarchy would love to take my scalp," Corlys agreed with a chuckle, "I am fine with being a bait but when will you return and where will you go."

Maekar promptly answered, "We can return after a month by that time, not only would the Triarchy confirm that we are no longer in the Stepstones or returning but also time for them to gather all their strength with their Dornish allies and attack Bloodstone. Daemon can go to Pentos while I go to the Stormlands."

Corlys nodded, "That would work," but Vaemond protested, "That will never work, the second the men know that the two of you have abandoned the campaign they will desert. And we can't tell them that you will return because that might pass on to the Triarchy."

"True, which is why only the senior officers will be told of this, as for keeping the men disciplined, I believe that job must fall to you," Daemon said looking at Vaemond. For the first time, Daemon and Maekar could agree on something.

Then Daemon turned to Maekar and asked, "What about me and my Kingdom in the Stepstones? The entire point of you arriving here is to claim them for Viserys yet all I see is Viserys and you trying to strip me of my hard-earned kingdom."

Corlys didn't doubt that Daemon would give the Stepstones back to Viserys once he got bored of ruling the Stepstones but never in front of Maekar.

Maekar didn't reply directly to Daemon but turned to his Lannister squire and said, "Give me the map," The boy quickly brought forth a map and unfurled it on the table. Corlys expected to have a long negotiation with Maekar but he was left pleasantly surprised.

"I have painted the map for everyone's benefit," Maekar said pointing to the islands.

"This is Tyrosh, we can't do anything about it but these islands in the North and East, I wish to take it for the Iron Throne, while Bloodstone, Grey Gallows, and all the remaining islands will be yours. And this line that you see drawn over here, this will be the only shipping lane that the Iron Throne will control it will be toll-free for all ships bearing the Targaryen flag, the rest will be yours."

Corlys looked at the map with Daemon and it was a good deal, a very generous one.

"I tried to get more islands but Viserys was the one who decided this," Maekar revealed and Daemon was sold.

"Fine, I will accept this," He grumbled.

Maekar got up as his squired rolled up the map and before he left the tent with his captains he turned to Vaemond and said, "My men know that I will never abandon them, if it looks like I have left then it must be a stratagem to trick the enemy. If your men lack discipline then the fault lies with the commander, in other words, with all three of you, the fact that you are not good commanders is not my fault."

He then walked out of the tent with his squires and captains.

"I told you that the little bastard was a prick," Daemon remarked with gritted teeth and Corlys couldn't help but agree, he knew how to prick their pride.

Two Months Later

"BATTLE SPEED," Corlys commanded as the Sea Snake surged forward to meet its foe.

All across the line, the Royalist ships gave the same command as drums began to beat furiously, oars rose and fell as the ships surged to meet their enemy head-on, all the while a flight of flickering orange birds took wing from the island, around twenty of them, pots of burning pitch arcing over their fleet trailing out threads of flame before some of them find the decks of the enemy ships and spreading flame when they shattered while the seas eat the rest.

Maekar's plan worked like a charm for all four enemies converged on Bloodstone from all sides, Craghas Drahar, Racallio Ryndoon, Sharako Lohar, and Qoren Martell, all four of them would die today. It was a difficult month but it would all be worth it provided Daemon and Maekar arrived on time.

Soon the trebuchets from the island fell silent as they entered the striking range.

"ARCHERS, CROSSBOWMEN, CATAPULTS, SPITFIRES, SCORPIONS," Corlys loudly commanded, their crews awaiting orders, "LOOSE AT WILL."

As everyone released their quarry, all of it aimed for the enemy ship heading straight for them, upon impact, the top deck of that ship was ripped apart, every living soul on the top deck was killed, and the mast broke and fell as some of the rigging caught on fire.

Corlys turned to the helmsman and the oar master, "We needn't ram or board this ship, there is a bigger one behind her to deal with, let the others deal with her." He pointed to the ship behind the first one, a ship big enough to match the Sea Snake.

All across the battlefront, the first line was engaged, grappling hooks were flung out, iron rams crashed through wooden hulls, boarders swarmed, flighted of arrows whispered across the air, and men died.

As Corlys prepared his ship to ram the new challenger on the port side, he noticed Vaemond upon the Ice Wolf ready to ram into the starboard side of the same ship. Vaemond had seen the chance and across the sea, they both nodded.

As both the Sea Snake and the Ice Wolf surged forward as the oars increased their pace, the Sea Snake flew, the water turning white as it parted for his prow. Corlys could see a little broadside and that was an opening that he wouldn't miss.

The Sea Snake and the Ice Wolf rammed into the sides of the same enemy ship within an instant of each other ramming both sides of her fore with such force that the men on the aft fell overboard while the fore was torn apart on both sides.

The moment the Sea Snake and the Ice Wolf reversed their oars, water rushed into the gaps and immediately the ship began to sink by the bow as the ship began to break into pieces, spilling everyone on board into the water. The living swam while the dead floated, and those wearing heavy mail and plate armor sank to the bottom of the sea. His archers and crossbowmen began picking off the survivors trying to swim to safety.

A flash of green caught his eye, Corlys turned around to see howling streams of wildfire pouring out of bronze contraptions present on all Royal ships. Long streams of flame erupted from their nozzles as they were spewed onto the decks of the enemy. Wildfire was a sword with no hilt, it could just as easily erupt into flames aboard the Royal ships, yet Maekar seemed to have taken this gamble. Before he left, Maekar had commanded his captains not to use the wildfire until the final battle for this very reason, the Triarchy wouldn't have seen it coming and they would not have been prepared for the green death of the Alchemists.

Most of the corsairs aboard the ships perished in the inferno while those who tried to escape into the water found to their horror that wildfire burns in water as well. Any ship that met the Royal Fleet found itself aflame and before long, the Triarchy's attack faltered as their first two lines of attack were wiped out, yet as they retreated the Royal ships did not give chase, they were more disciplined than Corlys gave them credit for.

As both sides began to rearrange for yet another confrontation, the loud screeching roar of Caraxes and the thunderous rolling roar of Vermithor were finally heard. A sound that he had been praying for nearly a month.

As he looked up he saw the forms of both Vermithor and Caraxes as they arrived from east and west and descended into the stunned Triarchy fleet that was in disarray. For they could even blink, the dragons opened their maws and spewed forth their hellfire.

For those eager to dive deeper into Maekar's dark and twisted tale, advance chapters are available on Patreon.com/PercivalLannister. Witness the rise of a dragon who dances with destiny in a world where survival often demands sacrifice and cunning.

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