Chapter 211: Seven Dragon Eggs

At this point, Jhaqo was in so much pain that he could not speak. He could only cover his nose and glare at Viserys with murderous intent.

Blood flowed from his fingers, forming several crimson lines down his arm until it dripped from his elbow. His upper and lower lips opened and closed like a gasping fish, and he barely managed to stand with the help of the guards.

"I don't like killing envoys. You can go back," Viserys said, waving his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly.

Jhaqo wanted to utter a harsh retort, but the pain silenced him. The guards outside rushed in and escorted him out of the hall and the palace. Only the bloodstains on the ground served as evidence that Jhaqo had been there.

Viserys turned to the officers, who still looked unsatisfied. "Caggo," he called. The throne, specially designed by Connington, amplified Viserys's voice, making it loud and clear with a long, lingering echo.

Caggo stood up and walked to the center of the throne room. "You and I will lead the cavalry as the vanguard."

"Yes, my lord."

"Conwyra."

"My lord," Conwyra responded, stepping beside Caggo.

"You will lead the 2,000 Unsullied."

"Yes, my lord."

"Dick, Gerrold, you will each command 500 longbowmen..."

Viserys continued issuing orders, assembling a force of 5,000 troops. His goal was to annihilate the 3,000 Dothraki cavalry under Jhaqo's command. Only then could he inspire enough confidence among the Free Cities to launch a major battle against the Horselords.

"Prince, what about me?" Regis asked anxiously.

"You don't need to go this time. You're too tired."

"Prince, I'm not tired!"

"Execute the order!"

Firmly refused, Regis had no choice but to relent.

After everyone had dispersed from the throne hall, Jon Connington approached Viserys. Having just returned less than half a day ago, he was already preparing for another war. Even the strongest man would struggle under such strain. Although Viserys's intelligence suggested they should win, Jon Connington was still concerned about his health.

"Prince, why don't you let me lead this campaign? I think you need to rest."

Viserys looked at him and said, "Ser Connington, I appreciate your concern, but this is our first battle against the Dothraki, and it's crucial. We must win this battle decisively, or the alliance will crumble. After this, we'll be in a full-scale war with the Horselords, and we need to give our allies the confidence to see it through."

As Jon Connington listened, he studied Viserys's face and saw no signs of fatigue. He let out a sigh of relief.

'Is it the blessing of the late king?' he wondered. 'The Targaryens are truly fortunate to have such a resilient leader.'

"Okay, I'll start preparing now. We can deploy the troops in two days at most."

"You've worked hard," Viserys said with a nod.

It took Jon Connington two days to gather the supplies needed for 5,000 troops. Even with reserves prepared in advance, he had to work nearly around the clock to accomplish it in such a short time. When Viserys expressed his concern, Connington felt a bit embarrassed. In his mind, his own efforts were insignificant compared to what Viserys had endured.

...

In Daenerys's room, Viserys carefully placed the two newly acquired blue and red dragon eggs among the black, silver, bronze, green, and yellow ones. As Viserys nurtured the eggs, the five previously obtained dragon eggs glistened like jewels in the sunlight. The golden yellow dragon egg, which had been stolen by pirates, had also been fully restored through blood magic.

"I hope I can fight alongside you one day," Viserys mused.

"There will be a day. The red comet has already appeared. Soon, we will be able to hatch the dragons," Daenerys replied.

"When the dragons hatch, can we go back?" Dany asked, a note of longing in her voice. As more Westerosi joined the Windblown, her desire to see the homeland she had never known grew stronger. Dragonstone, King's Landing, the Riverlands, Harrenhal... These names, once meaningless to her, had become places of deep significance—where she and Viserys were born.

"No, the dragons will still be very young when they hatch. It will take at least a year or two before they can be of any real use to us."

However, Viserys knew that once the dragons hatched, the balance of power would shift. His influence would grow rapidly alongside the dragons. When the lords of Westeros saw the dragons, the Baratheons' claim to the throne would lose all legitimacy.

Even the lands of the 'stag, falcon, wolf, and fish' would be engulfed in flames.

It would not be an idle threat to raise three dragon banners in every household.

...

Jhaqo and his men, driven out of Tyrosh, no longer carried their former arrogance. They resembled refugees fleeing disaster, stripped of their pride. Their horses had been seized by Viserys, forcing Jhaqo and his guards to sell their braided locks of hair just to afford a few boat tickets and some donkeys to escape the city.

After three days of torment, Jhaqo had become numb to the pain in his nose. His men covered his face with a plain white cloth, but the blood seeping from where his nose had been stained the cloth black and red, like a dirty, worn-out handkerchief.

"Ko! It's one of ours," one of Jhaqo's men said, hearing the faint sound of bells. Following the sound, they found Dothraki scouts wandering the Two Lakes region. The Dothraki, maintaining their tradition of fighting in the Great Grass Sea, used large numbers of scouts to both gather intelligence and conceal their own movements.

"Call them over!" Jhaqo's voice was strange and distorted, a result of his missing nose. The summoned Dothraki scouts didn't recognize their leader at first, but one of Jhaqo's guards confirmed his identity.

"Send word to all the wandering warriors to return. I will lead you to burn everything here!"

Jhaqo commanded, his rage boiling over. He then ordered one of his personal guards to ride to Drogo and summon him with his army to the Disputed Lands for revenge.

For several days, Jhaqo endured the agony of his missing nose as they traveled. He swore to exact the most brutal revenge on Viserys. However, blinded by his fury, Jhaqo failed to notice the golden eagle circling overhead.

Unbeknownst to him, as soon as Jhaqo and his men left Tyrosh, they were tracked by Viserys. Without realizing it, Jhaqo had become a "guide" for his enemy.