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Chapter 35: Interlude: EastChapter Text

"The Dorne-Triarchy alliance swept over the Stormlands like a tide of butchery, crushing castles and armies before their march. But the main danger was their fleet, which after ferrying the men into Dorne, struck at Tarth and Estermont, seizing them in lightning raids. Giving them anchorage to attack the rest of the eastern coast."

-Excerpt from 'The War of Four Directions', by Maester Daenys Fyre

107 AC, Driftmark

Tyrosh and Lys were two of the great naval powers of the Daughters of Valyria. Braavos and Volantis fielded more ships individually, but combined, the Triarchy had more than either. As such, the three hundred ships moving to attack Driftmark was only just over half of their navy. 

Three hundred dromonds, each with two decks of oarsmen and crowned with three great ballistae each. Two on the rear deck and one at the front. Worse, it was that specific anti-dragon repeating heavy ballista model, capable of firing half a dozen spears in mere seconds.

And unlike the weak scorpions and crossbows the Dornish used against House Targaryen in the Fourth Dornish War, these were ballistae. Proper siege engines meant to destroy fortifications. Thrice as big and mean as any other Westerosi siege engine that used a bowstring, they'd punch through even dragon scale and armour like it was paper. If Rhaenys came near, then she'd be a pincushion before she could burn more than a half dozen ships.

"How were they able to afford to make all of those?" Rhaenys asked her husband, peering through her far-eye at the enemy fleet. "The siege engines, I mean."

"Mysaria told me. Apparently they stole Rhaenyra's idea against us." Corlys ruefully said. "Hundreds of unskilled workers in Myr and Tyrosh, each working on one specific part of the machine, allowing for both cheaper and quicker mass production of their siege engines. All bankrolled by the Rogare Bank of Lys."

"So the engineers we hired to build the printing presses were spies."

"Mayhaps. But they definitely sold their knowledge of our mass production to the Magisters, at the very least."

"Well, we're fucked anyway, spies or no." Rhaenys grunted.

The Royal Fleet numbered only at two hundred warships, with another two hundred merchant vessels pressed into service. Their siege engines were fewer and weaker, and Rhaenyra was still missing. She had vanished after the Scouring of Pyke... well, not exactly vanished.

Rhaenyra had been making further examples of the Ironborn, haranguing western lords to march their armies east and was seen burning Vale Mountain Clans out of their hiding spots in the past two months since Pyke burned. She was visible in a way she hadn't been previously, but hardly contactable. She'd returned to Driftmark once again after the surrender of the Iron Islands last month, to return the borrowed chain to Hull, but afterwards nobody knew where she currently was. Last reports had her in the North once again, but nobody knew if she was still there. Which meant that over half of their dragons were unavailable.

"Are we?" Corlys asked, smiling quizzically. "I've read the reports about Pyke. While surprise and speed carried the day, there was mention of a specific weapon that is capable of defeating siege engines. I've ordered construction of one in Hull."

———

The barrels of wildfire fell, thrown out of the skycart carried by Meleys and Seasmoke by two brave Velaryon cousins. They tumbled through the air, descending towards the Triarchy's fleet, but alas, the enemy commander had wised up to their tactics.

A volley of ballista spears took to the sky as soon as the barrels entered firing range, each tipped with a torch. The sheer force from the shot allowed them to pierce through the barrels like kindling. The flames on the bolt then ignited the wildfire, causing it to burst into green flames high in the sky, raining over a larger radius, but in far more manageable drops. Crews with bags of sand and shovels were sufficient to keep the ships from burning, and they had taken down their sails to prevent the cloth from catching fire.

"This isn't working!" Ser Laemond Velaryon shouted from the skycart. "We're too obvious! Mayhaps we should wait for nightfall!"

"We don't have until nightfall!" Rhaenys retorted angrily. "The Triarchy will reach Spicetown before sunset."

Hull was one thing, with walls and proper fortifications, however old they were, but Spicetown was still under construction. The walls hadn't been raised yet, and there were less men garrisoned there. It would be sacked by nightfall, no matter how quickly men were mustered from all across Driftmark to defend it.

Regardless, she had no choice but to continue. Flying high out of their range, mother and son dropped barrel after barrel onto the fleet below. Again and again they ran bombing runs, and again and again the Triarchy evaded destruction.

The first attack had been the most successful, with nearly twenty ships destroyed by wildfire. The second one was less so, as the Triarchy began aiming for the barrels instead of the dragons. By the third, they had figured out how to use fire-tipped bolts to withstand such an attack. The fourth and fifth run used barrels of stone and gravel instead, hoping to psyche them out, but they didn't fall for it, continuously treating every barrel as though it was filled with wildfire. Alas they seemed to have no shortage of ammunition to fire at her. It was likely Driftmark would run out of barrels before the Triarchy ran out of spears.

Already, they had engaged the Royal Fleet in battle, Corlys' warships engaging them off the shoreline of Driftmark.

Ships smashed into each other, grapnels thrown and arrows exchanged. Some of the Triarchy ships even aimed their ballistas at Corlys' ships, unleashing stone after stone onto their hulls. While the Velaryon fleet endured, the Sea Snake having invested in solid ironwood, those belonging to the Blackwater Bay lords and the merchants on the other hand were shot through with holes. As the furious melee of ships progressed, Rhaenys was forced to abandon her bombing runs. They were too close to her husband's ships, and the wildfire would kill as many friendly forces as enemies.

Instead, she struck out at outlying ships on the periphery, ditching the skycart and riding Meleys down and scorching them in a quick dive, before shooting back into the sky, the battle having grown so loud and smoky that nobody could coordinate ballista volleys at her if she only struck the outskirts hard and fast. Still, she was but one woman, even with the fastest dragon alive at her side, she couldn't fight them all off.

Near dusk, the Cannibal swooped over, attracted by the blood and carnage. The massive dragon unleashed sickly-green flames on ships indiscriminately, shrugging off arrow and scorpion fire, but even the fourth largest dragon alive wasn't enough. A ballista bolt impaled into its flank, followed by a second, and a third. The savage dragon furiously fought, smashing a Tyroshi vessel underfoot even as it drowned six others in flame. A trio of Lyseni vessels aimed their ballistae at it, but Rhaenys and Meleys swooped down, strafing them before they could kill the Cannibal.

Better a dragon than slavers. Rhaenys thought to herself, dodging a retaliatory arrow attack. They kept that up for a while, the Cannibal fighting atop the ships while Meleys covered it from above. Laenor flew over on Seasmoke, barrels of wildfire clutched in his dragon's claws, dropping them atop distracted ships before strafing them with his mount's flames. The three dragons fought in an unlikely alliance, sinking many ships, but it wouldn't last.

A ballista bolt punched through Meleys' right wing, and the Red Queen wailed and screeched. A second smashed into her body, and she took another three when her rider swerved her into another volley, shielding Laenor. And even then, two punched through Meleys' left wing, striking the smaller dragon behind it. Wounded and exhausted, the two of them were forced to retreat back to Driftmark. Not much later, bereft of their fire support, the Cannibal retreated as well. Bleeding boiling blood from more than a dozen wounds, with one green eye gone and a ruined wing, it still managed to fly back towards Dragonstone.

Unfortunately, even with their valiant and reckless fight in the middle of the enemy formation, they still couldn't do it. Dozens of ships broke through the defensive lines, and banked on the shores of Driftmark, unleashing slavers and soldiers onto the island.

And like a tide of butchery, they swept towards the undefended Spicetown.

Rhaenys met them on the ground, Meleys too injured to fight. Wielding Seafoam, Valyrian steel sword of House Velaryon, the Lady of the Tides met the invaders with Fire and Blood.

The knights of the Crownlands charged the foreign invaders, throwing up sand and spray as they rode down the yellow beaches of Driftmark, evening sun dyeing their silver plate orange. They smashed into the Triarchy forces, most of whom were armoured lightly to prevent them from drowning. Lances broke, skewering slavers as the horses trampled them. Drawing their sidearms, the knights swung swords and maces, decapitating the foreigners and caving their heads in.

For an instant, it seemed that they could win, but then the siege engines on the ships retargeted. Stones the size of Rhaenys' head slammed into the horsemen as darts longer than her Fyrewood Lance impaled horsemen, shot with enough force to punch through multiple knights. Under concentrated ballistae fire, the Velaryons were forced to pull back, desperately fleeing for cover and distance as their brothers-in-arms fell around them.

Rhaenys swore as a rock smashed into the rump of her horse, pulping it in an instant. She was barely able to leap free of the saddle as it went down, screaming as her left ankle shattered from the impact of the fall. She didn't know how long she was lying on the sand and surf, but eventually she mastered herself and managed to get up. Using her Fyrewood lance as a cane, Rhaenys was barely able to rise to her feet. A cripple among a field of corpses. Her allies having left her behind in the rout.

She watched as the enemy approached, hundreds of Tyroshi and Lyseni infantry, with Myrish crossbowmen behind them. Rape! Pillage! Burn! They shouted in Bastard Valyrian, bearing down on her.

Solemnly, Rhaenys drew Seafoam, baring the ancient blade at her foes.

Let it not be said that the Queen Who Never Was died a coward. Rhaenys Targaryen declared to herself, feeling the Stranger's breath on the back of her neck.

Just as she prepared herself for death, a great sonorous roar shook the battlefield, everyone pausing in utter shock.

Rhaenys laughed and laughed. She knew that sound anywhere.

Vhagar swooped down from the clouds, unleashing emerald flames onto the Triarchy ships on the beaches of Driftmark. Queen Visenya's mount spat flames that were magnitudes greater than anything that the rest of the dragons could muster, reducing dozens of ships into ash and kindling in an instant.

Even as Vhagar struck, more and more dragons descended from the clouds. Silverwing and four adolescent dragons struck the Triarchy fleet in the rear, scorching unprepared and off guard ships, burning dozens before they could turn their ballistae on them.

As entire armies stared, spellbound by the carnage, and the largest skycart Rhaenys had ever seen descended from the skies, carried by two diving dragons. Just before they reached the ground, Daena blew her horn, Command rippling through the Caraxes and Dreamfyre. They spread their wings, decelerating sharply, before dropping the massive skycart they carried right atop the army in front of Rhaenys. Crushing thirty crossbowmen beneath them.

There was a sudden roar of fury, and the skycart burst open, wooden walls crumbling off the metal frame they were attached to. Twelve massive figures rushed out of the skycart. Fourteen feet tall, and clad in the thickest plate Rhaenys had even seen, the giants smashed into the Triarchy's army, pulping men with great flanged maces taller than she was. Shrugging off every blow, the giants waded into combat, roaring savagely.

———

By dawn the next day, the rest of the Triarchy fleet had been dealt with. Their men either dead or in chains. And thus, four months after King Viserys' wedding, the eastern front ended.