52 Chapter 52
Chapter 52
AENYS TARGARYEN
"There will be no damned Council!" he replied, making his niece halt for a second as she looked at him with a complicated expression.
In all this succession of nonsense, Aenys had forgotten one of the most fundamental aspects of this whole ordeal. The Grand Council and why he had been against such an idea.
"What do you mean?" Rhaenyra questioned as she wiped away her tears, a frown marring her expression.
"As I said, there will be god damn council," he replied, reiterating his words.
"But the lor…"
"The lords have no say in who rules over them. The calling of the Council was one of our grandfather's biggest mistakes, a mistake that I will not repeat," he reiterated. And truthfully, it was this very point over which he had fought with his grandfather and had been exiled.
"Daemon may do whatever he wants, but your father has declared you as heir, and all the lords swore fealty to you when he did so," he reminded her, and she nodded.
"So, any lord who forgets his vows from that day and breaks them shall be a traitor to the Crown. And the Crown shall not tolerate any such traitors," he finished in a rather cold tone as Rhaenyra's eyes widened at his implication.
And he was not joking. The Council had made the lords feel entitled, more powerful, and self-important, as if their combined will could shackle the Royal family. Yet they were wrong. This was not a democracy. No, this was a monarchy, a monarchy in which each and every one of those lords served at the behest of their family, and it was time that such a notion was enforced upon their minds once more.
"You cannot mean…" she gasped, but he shook his head.
"I do, and that is the reality of it. All those who support Daemon will need to be punished and brought to heel, though I wouldn't worry too much about that," he replied, recalling the letter he had sent to Viserys and his other plans for tackling that bastard.
"I don't believe many would rise up in his support," he reassured her, and he could see that the thought of such drastic punishments unsettled her, yet she still nodded her head.
"I hope so as well," she replied, and he nodded before she questioned.
"Apart from that, when are we to leave the Vale," she questioned, and he stood up, as he answered.
"I am set to leave in an hour or two," he replied, his words catching her by surprise.
"What? Why?" she questioned, surprised by his answer, yet he did not wish to divulge the details about the reason for his rather hasty return.
"I have some things to take care of in the capital, though you shall return later, on Syrax," he told her, and as she was about to speak up, he cut in.
"…slowly and carefully," he admonished her. The truth was that he would have liked to accompany her on the journey, but he had to rush back to the capital, and Syrax was slow, much slower than his Grey Ghost.
"But why must I stay? I could join you," she said, and she shook his head.
"No, you cannot. Lade Jeyne has organized a tourney for us, it will be rude if none of were to attend. You shall attend the tourney tomorrow and then leave afterward in the night if you wish," he told her and saw her nod reluctantly.
And with that, after a set of further instructions, he moved out of the room, heading to his own as he prepared for the journey ahead.
.
.
.
.
And then, an hour later, he found himself in the courtyard of the Eyrie, the last vestiges of the setting Sun illuminated the sky as he saddled up his dragon, when an all too familiar voice from behind cut in.
"So, you will be leaving now?" he turned back and found the Lady of the Eyrie standing there with behind him, and he gave her a nod.
"Yes, I need to reach the capital by tonight. And I apologize for not being able to attend the tourney you have set up," he said as he gave her a short bow, though Jeyne Arryn waved away his apology.
"It is a shame, I must say, for many in the Vale would have loved to see the Dragonslayer on the lists. I know many of the knights have desired to test their mettle against yours," she said, and the sadness seemed genuine as she continued.
"If it is any solace, the Princess shall be there. The realm's delights favor shall be prize enough for those knights," he offered, not mentioning how his joining the lists would have been highly unlikely. After all, he was not fond of fighting in tourneys.
They were both silent for some time as she looked into his eyes before she broke it with a small whisper.
"I believe you told her of your decision?" she confirmed, and he nodded.
"I have," he told her, and there was little need to tell her of what it was. And she walked up to him and looked up to him.
"The Vale knows much of honor, for we pride ourselves with it. But I shall have it written that the Vale saw no man as honorable as the Healer Prince," she said, and he nodded as she gave him a rather forlorn smile, her hand now caressing the side of his face.
"Sometimes I rue the day you chose to marry Lady Alicent Hightower," she said, surprising him, as she pulled down his face and kissed him on the forehead, catching him by surprise.
They separated, and he saw her step back, the sadness vanishing from her face as she continued in a rather playful tone.
"I wish you well on your journey, my Prince. Perhaps when I come to the capital, I could convince your lady wife to share," she teased playfully as she chuckled and waved at him.
And he didn't know what to say, so he just shook his head and replied with a chuckle.
"You wouldn't be the first to try," he said as he turned away from her and jumped on the saddle, though before taking to the skies, he faced down once more.
"My ships shall arrive at your shore in a moon or two. I shall have the details sent over as well, but I want to assure you that this Piracy problem of yours shall be handled once and for all," he assured her, having already taken some steps regarding this.
"The Vale thanks you for your support, my Prince," she said as she gave him a bow, and he nodded as he turned forward, and with a hardened heart and stead voice, he shouted.
"Soves!"
And the Grey Ghost took to the skies once more, its wings flapping rhythmically as it cut through the Easter skies at breakneck speed.
0000
HARWIN STRONG-Breakbones
Harwin Strong found himself in a rather precarious situation, lost between his oath to the crown, and his camaraderie with his fellow Gold Cloaks, it was his sense of duty to the Crown and his family that prevailed.
His father was set to be named the new Hand of the King, and that brought with him a new set of responsibilities and challenges. Duties that pitted him against men he had once called friends and comrades.
Kingslanding had been in decline since the end of King Jaeaherys's time, the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms, the symbol of Targaryen power had lost its luster as its street were overtaken by crime of the worst king. Stealing, abductions, rapes, and many such evils had taken root, making the people of the city unsafe and anxious.
The City Watch established to keep the order, and to protect the citizens had been rather ineffective in its duties, often stifled in its glorious purpose by corruption, greed or gross incompetence.
At least that had been the story until Prince Daemon had been given command. The Rogue Prince had transformed the once disgraced order into a symbol of fear for the city's criminal element.
Adorned with their Gold Cloaks, trained by the infamous Rogue Prince himself, these men gained purpose and glory, and hence, the city Watch became the Gold Cloaks. The order and its men owed it all to Prince Daemon, and with that, the Prince held their loyalty above all else, and for some, that meant even beyond the Crown.
And right now, he found himself standing opposite to such men, as he surrounded Prince Daemon's manse, clad in his armor, sword in hand, with men loyal to the Crown at his back as they faced the element of the City Watch whose loyalties remained bound to Prince Daemon.
"So, you have decided to betray the Prine and your brothers!" snarled Bryer, the thick, burly man who had once held the same rank as him, and Harwin didn't answer.
"It is not I who has lost my way, Bryer. It is you," he shouted as he took a step forward. The dozen or so men with him followed as well, as the eight men opposite to them backed down.
"We swore our oaths to the Crown, and right now, it is you who is breaking those oaths," he shouted, and Bryer's face contorted as he backed down.
After his father had made him the Captain of the City Guard, he had been quick to enact the required changes, replacing men whose loyalties lay with Prince Daemon. Yet that didn't mean it was all easy; many amongst these men had revolted and tried to cause trouble in the capital, yet he had expected that and had been quick to have them thrown into the Black Cells.
"Fuck the Crown!" Bryer shouted as he spat on the ground, his face turning to snarl as he continued to shout.
"It was the prince who gave us these cloaks, and it is only him who shall take it from me! You are nothing but a damned lickspittle, a glorified ungrateful whore who betrayed his own kin!" Bryer shouted, and Harwin's temper flared at that.
Bryer and his group were amongst the few who refused to toe the line, and he had wished to resolve this peacefully, yet he could not all these insults stand.
Bryer may once have been his comrade, but now he was nothing more than a fugitive and a criminal. Hence, would get no mercy from him.
So, he raised his sword as his eyes narrowed. And he was thankful that he had his men already clear out the area.
"Archers!" he shouted as some men came out onto the balconies of the surrounding buildings, bows in hand, arrows aimed at Bryer and his men.
"Take aim!" he shouted and saw the faces of some of Bryer's men pale at his words as they saw the strings get drawn as half a dozen arrows were aimed at them.
Bryer, though, didn't flinch and continued to glare at him, his massive axe in his hand as he shouted.
"Have enough dignity to face me like a man, you traitor!" he shouted, and Harwin knew that he needn't be baited, yet he also knew that if he were to not respond to such taunts, he would lose the respect of his men.
And so, he raised his hand, halting his archers as he stepped forward.
"Ok, you bastard, I will give you a taste of my blade," Harwin replied as Bryer moved forward as well eyes narrowed his grip on his axe tight, before both of them broke into a stride as they rushed towards each other.
The sound of their steps on the hard stone underneath echoed throughout the area, the metal of their armor making loud clangs as they roared.
"AGHHHH!" and Bryer was the first to begin, jumping at the end of his stride as he brought down his axe with all his might, and Harwin, brought up his blade to block the attack. The force of the attack was enough to push him back, as he gritted his teeth, his body forced to his knee due to the force behind the strike
Bryer was a burly man, and the man pushed down his axe. Harwin watched it inches closer to his face as he pushed his blade harder and harder with all his might before tilting it to the side and spinning on his heel.
CLANG!!
Bryer's axe hit the pavement, making a loud sound as Harwin spun and stuck him in the side, in the bare area between his breastplates.
"AGHH!" Bryer groaned, yet through gritted teeth, the man swung his axe once more, and Harwin ducked as it passed right above his head, and as it passed above him, he scrapped forward and wrapped his arm around the man's arm and pulled.
"AHHHHH!" he screamed in pain as the bones in his arm broke. The axe fell from his arm as Harwin grunted as he swung his body with all his might.
"AGHHHH! He shouted as Bryer's back hit the ground with a thud, the man writhing on the floor holding his broken arm.
Harwin pushed back his hair as he kicked him in the side, making Bryer grunt.
"So, you happy now, Bryer!" and with that, he put his leg in his remaining arm, as he brought the tip of his blade near his neck.
"Yield! And have your men step down, and we can avoid this bloodshed. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to swing this blade!"
And Bryer snarled before he spat on his face, making his temper flare as he shouted.
"Then swing, but I will die before I betray my Prince like you. You are nothing but a glorified who…" and as Harwin moved to swing his blade he was disturbed by a massive roar.
And then the whole ground shook as a massive thud was heard behind him. A thud with which the city populace was now quite familiar with. And he turned back and found on himself two golden snake-like slits as Ceraxes stood behind him, glaring at him with his golden eyes that glistened in the dark.
The metal covering its head and shoulders shone in the moonlight, and his heartbeat quickened as the massive red beast opened its maw, revealing its razor-sharp teeth. The beast wrung its neck as it roared once more, its shrill voice thundering across the clearing.
"AHKHNNNNNN!" the beast roared before lowering itself, as the man atop it stood up and looked down at him and all the men around him before his voice rang out.
"What is going on here!"
Prince Daemon was here.
0000
Daemon is here!
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A/N: A point to add. The injuries have made Ceraxes slower. It wasn't always the fastest, and now it has gotten slower because of the additional weight of the metal embedded into its swings!
The final arc now begins! We are in the endgame now!
