Chapter 23

Chapter 23

ALISSANO NEYSARIS

In the basement of one of the manses in Bravos, a man sat in a room, not alone, his eyes focused on the piece of parchment in his hand. The paper crumpled and crumpled as his eyes continued to skim over the written words.

"Those idiots!" he screamed as he threw away the paper, one of his hands going into his air as he thought of all he had just read. Alissano Neysaris was a black-haired man born to one of the oldest families in Bravos. They could track their lineage to be amongst the first of the settlers on the archipelago.

"Those idiots! Ignoring me like this after begging me for help!" he screamed angrily. His informants had informed him how they had seen a ship from the Triarchy at the docks. He had thought it would be the magisters again, coming to ask him for help. Yet he had been wrong! Oh, he had been so wrong.

"What has happened, Alissano?" came the sultry voice from the back, and there on the bed lay a silvery blonde woman, a bowl of grapes resting on her protruding belly. Alissano looked back at the pregnant woman lying on her bed.

"The Magisters from Lys and Myr were in the city, and my informants saw them entering the house of that wretched Prince along with a chained man. A man who never came out of the manse," he told her, and the woman's eyes widened as she put down the grape she was just about to put into her mouth.

"That could only mean one thing," she spoke, and of course, it meant only one thing.

"Yes, it does. It means that they have made a deal with that wretched dragon rider behind my back, and they may even have spoken about me," he said sarcastically as he stood up and began to pace.

"Did you mention your plan to them?" she asked as she leaned forward herself, and he shook her head.

"Of course not. I would never trust wretched slavers like that; they know nothing about my plans or anything of the sort. But they do know my name, and I can not put it past those bastards to use it to make a deal with that heathen!" he snapped angrily, cursing himself in his mind for even entertaining those bastards.

"So, what. All he has is a name. Even if that, what can he do with that," she said nonchalantly, and he shook his head as he came to a halt.

"Ohh, that is the whole problem. He has connections deep connections. He even has the ear of Alessandro. This makes everything, all my plans and everything more complicated," he explained. Finally deciding to sit on the bed, he wrang his head for new ideas.

The blonde became quiet at his implosion and, in the end, approached him slowly, her arms wrapping around him as he felt a soft pair of lips touch the side of his neck, slowly moving up.

"SO, what if he has the Sealord's ear? You forget that you are his childhood friend, a friend whom he values a lot. And if he only has a name, then he has nothing. He will have to wait to look into you, and by the time he gets to that, he will be taken care of," she assured him, her lips on his ear as her teeth nibbed her pinna. He felt the tension leaving him as he sighed.

"You are right, he has nothing, but I must be careful. I cannot afford to miss this chance, not after everything my ancestors have accomplished," he finished.

"Don't worry so much. The plans are already in place, we have to be patient, and then soon you shall have control over both Bravos and Westeros," she assured him, and the sheer thought of controlling these two kingdoms made his heart swell up.

"You are right," he said as he untangled her arms, stood up, and glanced at her as he spoke.

"You should rest. I need to check on something," and the pregnant blonde nodded and leaned back into the chair. He picked up the piece of parchment from the table and then left the room with deliberate strides. The servants bowed to him as he moved past them into his solar, more specifically, the solar of the head of the family.

It was a massive room adorned with ironwood furniture, Myrish curtains, and carpets. His family's insignia is embroidered on everything. He moved away from the bed to the other side of the room towards the ornate table and chair and slumped down into the chair.

The Neysaris weren't just an old family. No, they were amongst the first group of settlers that had landed on these islands. Their pedigree and influence left them extremely wealthy, while the rest of the fourteen quickly forgot their past. His family was different. No, they remembered. They remembered the cruelty of those heathen dragon lords.

And then, over the last few decades, he could finally see a way to exact his revenge. He gripped the key hanging around his neck before taking it off and holding it in front of him. He then slowly pushed it into a deliberately hidden keyhole and slowly turned it.

CLICK. CLACK.

THUNK!

A secret door opened up, revealing the lynchpin of his plan. There, hidden inside his table, laid three oval objects, stony and sizzling. Though as much as they resembled a stone, they weren't stone.

No, they were the source of the power of those heathen lords that had enslaved his ancestors years ago. And now they would be the instrument of his revenge.

They were the three dragon eggs. The very same dragon eggs that the famed Elissa Farmen had stolen.

"Fire and Blood," he murmured the words of the last of the accursed dragon lords alive.

The words of the Targaryen family, words which, according to him, were more than just words.

And now they would be the words of their reckoning.

0000

AENYS TARGARYEN

"He is down there, my prince," said one of his servants, and Aenys nodded. Aenys himself employed over a hundred men to guard his manse and even more for his other businesses. Most of them had been handpicked by him or Greg, and even then, he was cautious with how much they saw or knew about his businesses.

"No one is allowed down under any circumstances, do you understand?" Aenys said, his voice cold and apathetic, and the large burly man nodded, standing tall in the cellar. The walls were lined with casks of wine and other fermenting items, including meats.

"As you say, my prince," said the man. And with a final nod, Aenys began to descend down the stairs, his steps slow as the door to this secret underground passage closed off behind him. The key hung securely around his neck, made of valyrian steel, it was the only one of its kind, and it was practically impossible to reach this place without it. If anyone tried to force their way, then this whole area of the manse would go up in flames. He had worked with a smith from Qohor to design it all.

Finally, he reached his destination as he entered his so-called secret room, a room littered with text, glass dishes, and glass bottles filled with a pungent-smelling liquid. Yet what was most disturbing we the contents of those glass jars. Organs. Body part. Cut and preserved, with papers with their illustrations strewn across.

It was like a rudimentary pathology and anatomy laboratory, though right now, it was a prison. A prison for one Cragas Drahar and the man was tied down on a marble table. His arms and legs were secured with tightly bound rope and a rubber gag covering his mouth.

Aenys saw as the infamous Crab Feeder struggled to free himself of his binds and saw the man's eyes widen as they landed on him. The man began to grunt as he struggled to speak up.

Aenys untied the gag, "Oh, we have no need of that!" and as soon as the gag was out of his mouth. Cragas Drahar began to speak up.

"UNTIE ME! LET ME GO!" he screamed as he struggled out of his binds, unsuccessfully.

"Do you have any idea who I am? I am Cra…." But Aenys cut him off.

"I know exactly who you are, Cragas Drahar," Aenys said and saw the man's eyes finally focus on him. And then he saw recognition dawn in those eyes.

"You, you are that prince. The exiled one, the one who is a healer," he said, and Aenys smiled as he moved closer to the man.

"Ohh, it seems you have heard of me, then you must also have a pretty good idea of why you are here," Aenys said as he began to clean the surgical instruments with alcohol. And he saw the implication behind those words dawn on the man.

"It's because of that ship. The one with that royal princess. I beg you; it was a mistake. They gave us the wrong intel. Just let me go, and I will make you rich. Richer than you can imagine, I have gold and jewels," the man begged, but Aenys paid him no mind.

"Ahh, but I cannot, you see. Your so-called mistake took away the person I loved most in the world, and that is a sin that cannot go unpunished, so I am afraid I cannot let you go," Aenys spoke as he finished cleaning up his instruments.

And he saw the man's nose flare up.

"Do you have any idea who stands behind me. I am telling you, if you do something to them, then you shall suffer the wrath of the Triarchy. So, just let me…."

"Hahaha, I don't believe you have forgotten how you got here, Crab Feeder," said Aenys with a small laugh and the man shut up.

"Your own backers brought you to me chained and unconscious. Hoping that I would spare them," said Aenys as he slowly lit up the other lamps in the room before walking towards the steel basin filled with boiling water.

"You sick bastard let me go or I will gut you like I gutted that whore," and Aenys stilled at those words. His head snapped towards the man, his eyes blazing and angry as the scum pirate smirked and laughed.

"Yeah, I remember that disfigured whore. I remember she screamed at being a princess of sorts. A princess with a face like that," and then the man spit to the side as he locked eyes with Aenys.

"I remember as she begged for her life, I might even have let them have a go …" But before the man could say anymore, Aenys was upon him, his arm swinging with fury as he punched the scum in the face.

"AGHH!" the man grunted in pain as Aenys continued to punch him before he finally stopped, leaving the man bloodied.

"I was going to make this as painless as I could. But you have just earned yourself a life in hell instead of a quick death," snarled Aenys and saw as the man's eyes shook as the implication behind those words settled into his brain.

"Yeah, Crab Feeder, you are going to beg me for death. And as you whimper in agony, understand one thing," said Aenys as he gripped the man's hair and made him look straight into his eyes.

"You brought this all on yourself. YOU! Not anyone else!" said Aenys as he pushed his head back to the table, and the Crab Feeder grew pale as Aenys began to mix up a concoction with the many bottled fluids.

"HELP MEEE! HELPPPP! ANYOBY!!" Drahar screamed in fear as the healer remained busy mixing up various liquids.

"You can scream as much as you want, but the lab is soundproof. No one will be able to hear you," said Aenys as he picked up a metallic syringe and pushed the needle into Drahar's arm.

"It's just you and me here. Just you and me, in this little hell of your own making!"

0000

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

The castle's air felt dreary to Rhaenyra Targaryen as she sat alone in the garden, contemplating the changes happening in the Kingdom. Even here in the Godswood, one could hear the sound of levies drilling as the seven Kingdoms prepared to wage war on the Stepstones.

Her father remained busy with Daemon and his Council as they made plans for the war and tried to force one of their planned matches onto her. And she had seen how the Council had been pushing her father into betrothing her before the war, yet it was only thanks to her mother that she still remained independent in the choice of her consort.

They had gotten closer over the months, yet for the last couple of days. She had noticed how her mother had seemed somewhat worried and preoccupied for some reason. She sighed, as she lay there under the massive Wierwood tree and its empty branches. Missing the soft hands that brushed her hair and the girl talks she used to have with her dearest friend. A friend who could no longer be here.

Suddenly she heard the sound of dry leaves cracking, sat up, and looked around, and when she saw no one, she spoke up.

"Who is there?" she questioned loudly. And she had not misheard as someone stepped out of the tree, a man wearing a doublet with a large Tower with an a fire on top embroidered on the front. The person bowed awkwardly and began to apologize.

"I am sorry for startling you, princess. I am…."

"Gwayne Hightower," she said as she recognized his familiar face. And the boy stood up and nodded.

"Yes," he replied with a nervous smile, and then he hesitated and continuously opened and then closed his mouth.

"Aaaaa…..aaa…" and she broke out into a small laugh at his behavior, though she did decide to take mercy on him. And she found it a bit refreshing as he didn't ogle at her like a prize to be won like the vultures circling in the castle.

"Do you wish to say something, my lord?" she questioned him as she stood up and slapped away the leaves sticking to her dress. He finally closed his mouth and took a moment before he finally spoke up.

"I am sorry for disturbing you, princess, but I wished to talk to you about my sister," he questioned her, and Rhaenyra stilled for a moment as she gulped and spoke up.

"What do you wish to know?" she questioned him. He sighed, and she saw his face contort in worry as he spoke up in a resigned tone.

"Have you, by chance, heard anything from my sister? Father has forbidden me from trying to contact her, but she is my sister, and I am just worried about her. So, I could ask you since you two were so close," he said hurriedly in a single breath.

"I have not, and I don't think she would want to reply to any of my letters," she said stiffly, and Gwayne frowned.

"Why would you think that? She considered you her best friend. I think she would be delighted to hear from you," said Gwayne quickly, and she smiled and shrugged.

"I don't know, just after everything, I don't even know where to begin," she said, her voice whimpering as she remembered her leaving with Aenys and how his blazing eyes swept through the crowd.

"I don't know about anyone else. But from what I know of Alicent, she would be delighted if you wrote to her. And it would ease my heart as well if I could only know how she was?" he said, and after thinking about it for a while, she nodded.

"Ok, I will try and contact her."

0000

And as they were speaking in the Hand's tower, Otto Hightower sat in his chair working as the fire behind him burnt brighter than usual and blackened wisps of paper turned to ash. Paper that had traveled across the narrow Sea to reach the Kingdom.

0000

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