Chapter 33

7th Month 267AC

As I was essentially the Lord Paramount of the Crownlands, I was exercised with the largest grant of land in the entirety of my direct feudal fief. In other words, I had all the space in the world to do whatever I wanted, or find some out of the way place to have tests away from prying eyes.

I might have a lot of space for test grounds for more of my destructive ideas, but my paranoia always ate at me that I was never being careful enough. That was probably the reason why I had, what I was tentatively calling my dragoons, ranging around the area in search of any people that had no right to be here.

It was a clear day with a gentle sea breeze coming in from the calm waters of the Blackwater Bay. It was a good day as any to have a test fire of a device that was more than likely going to change the face of warfare in all of Westeros, perhaps the world. It was a rather large unwieldy beast to be sure. Not exactly what I had pictured when it came to mind. It had looked prettier in my drawings, but I would take what I got.

The bore of the cannon gleamed a golden brown in the sunlight. Never once seen a bronze cannon before, but apparently, the cannons made from cast iron had an unfortunate tendency to blow up at the inopportune of times without previous signs of any sort of malfunction on their part.

"And this one won't randomly blow up?" I questioned the man that had been put in charge of making sure that the metal was up to snuff.

Tesso Mott nodded his head from the very safe distance me, him and some of my entourage were standing away from in case the cannon did blow up. "Yes, your grace. The problem with using iron for the devic- the cannon as you call it, was that iron by itself couldn't handle the stress of the explosion. Bronze on the other, is a softer metal able to handle the stress well. And lighter as well."

"If this works Tesso, I suppose I won't be complaining about offering you all that gold for your service."

The Qohorik bowed slightly, a giving me a black smile. The man had, for some strange reason, Valyrian steel for fake teeth. Was he so lazy that he didn't want to put as much effort as possible into tearing his food?

"You are too kind your grace." Tesso Mott said, bowing. It hadn't been cheap bringin Tesso Mott all the way from Qohor, but for the knowledge that he held? It was probably going to be worth it.

One way or another, I was going to make the man take as many students as possible for him to impart his knowledge. I didn't doubt that he was going to take most of the Qohorik state secrets that came to metallurgy to the grave, but whatever he taught was probably going to be better than what the maesters had.

Serret being alive was probably one of the few good things that came out of that fire. During his time as head pyromancer, he had made it his mission to be involved with every project that I had given to the pyromancers.

Thankfully, I had been at a loss of what to do when the fire all but destroyed the pyromancers and everything that they had been working at for me. Serret changed that. He didn't know all the details, but he certainly knew all of the details for many of the projects that had been assigned to them.

Gunpowder being one.

To my surprise though, it had taken longer than I would have thought to actually come up with a viable gunpowder ratio that would be capable of launching a ball of explosive filled iron across a suitable amount of distance to wreck walls. I suppose there was more to the powder than just simply knowing the ingredients for it.

That had been one part of the problem. Another was actually building a functional working cannon that did not randomly blow up and kill the crew.

In regards to that, I had looked to Qohor. Why you might ask? Because it's really rather simple. The Qohorik had the reputation for the best metal workers ever. How good? Because apparently, the best castle-forged steel of Westeros was still nothing compared to that of equal make from Qohor.

In other words, the Qohoriks had the Westerosi beat when it came to metallurgy.

Something the maesters probably didn't appreciate considering some of the rumours that flew about, about that particular part of the world.

"They are about to begin, your grace." Tesso said, pointing in the direction of the crew that was loading up a solid ball of iron down the bore.

The cannon itself faced the ocean as that was where the direction of the solid shot would be fired in. I watched intently as the crew moved aside before lighting the fuse that burned down the fuse and into the vent before the earth seemed to shake as the recoil pushed the canon back as it fired it's projectile.

I felt sorry for the men that were holding the horses, for they must have surely been spooked. Needed to do something about that, wouldn't do for the horses to be spooked by little things such as cannons being fired.

I looked into the waters of the Blackwater Bay and saw where the solid shot had smashed into. The waters around that particular spot still bore the signs of the impact.

I rubbed at my ear. "Gods, that was loud."

Tesso Mott grinned from ear to ear. "If you think that loud, your grace, think of two or more firing."

"Yes, I suppose that will be louder. I do feel sorry for the poor bastards that are going to be firing these things." I turned my attention back to the cannon and gave a satisfactory nod. "I'm still not yet convinced of it's success. The first iron cannon worked well enough after the first shot. Then it suddenly blew up on the seventh try, killing good men."

The fact that it had blown up on the seventh try, the holy number, I would have found amusing in the irony of it all, but as I had said, the fragments from the iron cannon had resulted in them killing everyone in the immediate surroundings of the cannon.

The death toll had just kept rising after that as I had people try to figure out what was going on.

I made a flippant hand gesture. "Have them fire it again. And again. If it doesn't blow up by the tenth shot, then I shall consider this a resounding success."

By the tenth test, the bronze cannon was still standing and the crew was still alive. So by own words, it was very much a resounding success.

Tesso Mott knew it judging by the stupid grin on his face. "A resounding success, no?"

I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair resigned. "Those were my words. I'm still expecting it to suddenly explode and kill the crew."

"A healthy, understandable fear, your grace."

So I now had a cannon. Problem is, copper is bloody expensive and I wasn't really willing to cash out on the required gold to buy a large amount of copper for the cannons. Maybe just have a battery of cannons?

Now if only I could remember the number of cannons in a battery. You know what? Fuck it. Might as well go with Westeros favourite number.

"Seven."

Tesso Mott looked at me strangely, an eyebrow raised up his hard face. "Your grace?"

"I want seven of these cannons forged, with an identifier of some kind. A serial number or a mark of yours." I told him. "If you do this, then I consider our deal complete."

Tesso Mott nodded as he took in the information. "And of the agreement that we came to, your grace?"

"You will have your charter, viable for ten years like we agreed. I'll find respectable knights in the service of the crown for your sons...Tito and Tobias, if I'm correct?"

He nodded his head, a gentle sea breeze sweeping across the both of them. "Aye, your grace. Good boys. Strong boys. They will make fine squires."

"What of your other son?" I asked. "Tobho." The name was somewhat familiar, but I couldn't really put a face to a name or where I recalled it from.

"He's my heir." Tesso answered, crossing his arms. "I will be passing all of my knowledge to him. In truth, out of all my sons, he is the most recipient to my teachings. Tito and Tobias not as much."

I was beginning to suspect that there was some sort of thing going on here with the constant alliterative names. It happened to frequently to be just a one-off.

"You realise they will have to convert to the Faith of the Seven, right? No knight will dub them if at the very least, they don't follow the Seven."

"I have already made the arrangements."

Well, I suppose no-one can blame the man for being a bad parent. In his own strange way, I suppose his sons become knights was somehow securing them a future of some kind. Perhaps he dreamed of them being awarded their own land to administer in the future.

It all depended on how good their service was to the Iron Throne.

As I left the test grounds with my retinue in tow, I had trouble keeping the grin of my face. I had a working cannon. I suppose in a way, a cannon was far better than the hwacha that had been developed when the development of the cannon had been taking too long for my liking.

Yes, I understood the benefits of a cannon, but there was something about an arrow storm that would always attract something inside me. It was like all of my childhood anime fantasies all rolled into one.

Cannons were cool, but arrow storms were even cooler, especially gunpowder propelled arrows.

And that was just the little boy inside me speaking.

xXx

8th Month 267AC

The small council had always been particularly small, but lately, it had felt even smaller than it had already been. Over the years, some members had retired back to their holdings after having served the realm faithfully, on in others cases, just outright died.

Looking around the table, there was three empty seats that needed to be filled, the positions of master of whisperers, laws, and coin. And if I had my way, some of those positions were going to be radically different and there may even be more seats in my small council.

My lips threatened to twitch somewhat in amusement. Would it even be right to call it a 'small' council considering that at the best of my estimates, it was going to be a little over double in size?

And there certainly wasn't going to be any kind of 'master' anymore.

Until we could find suitable replacements or new appointments when my reforms were over and done with, then the work load for all those three positions had been thrown in Duncan's direction. Something the prince had been less than happy to carry out.

Mind you though, I think everyone was putting in their fare graft of work to at the very least, lessen the burden that my uncle had to carry.

"…More pirates in the Stepstones. No matter how many purges we carry out, they just keep crawling out from the hole they came from." Lord Addam Velaryon, the master of ships complained, shaking his head of silver hair about.

Duncan calmly agreed with the man as he nodded. "That I agree with, my lord. The Stepstones are a valuable trade route for all of Westeros. A safe and secure Stepstones means more wealth comes into the realm."

"Then something must be done, Prince Daeron." Lord Addam said, a fist forming on his visible hand. "In my purges, I have lost good men and ships and for what? To go back again in half a years time? It's the Tyroshi I tell you. They are sponsoring those pirates and setting some of their own fleet into the Stepstones to pray on our trade."

"We don't know that." I pointed out, interjecting into the conversation.

"But we do know that one of those Ninepenny Kings sits his arse on the Archon's Throne of Tyrosh. Is it so hard to believe that this maybe nothing more than a continuation of the war they lost so badly?"

Ser Gerold bade himself to speak. "Your grace, I fear it may not just be the Tyroshi, sellsails and pirates that we maybe dealing with in the Stepstones."

This garnered the attention of both me and the other councillors. Leaning forward onto the table that we all sat around, I frowned. "Who else could be disrupting trade in the Stepstones? Myr? Lys? Pentos? Braavos? I doubt we have done anything to them."

Ser Gerold shook his head. "Not in the east, but in the west."

The Grand Maester sucked in some air through closed teeth. "The ironborn." He more or less stated without any hint or doubt. He eyed Lord Addam. "Have your men come across longships in their campaigns?"

The Master of Driftmark leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms in thought. "Mayhaps, but if so, my captains didn't report anything to me. Longships do not make the best kind of ship for ship to ship combat. Perhaps they merely saw the ships of the Royal Fleet and beat a quick retreat?"

"That's more than possible." The Grand Maester groused, a hand stroking a smartly shaven beard. He was certainly far different to Pycelle by the looks of things, even if he was advanced in age. I suppose this was another man that I was going to have to find a replacement for in the future. "The ironborn by their very nature are cowardly jackals. Unless they number a proper ship of war, they will never make to attack it."

Wow, the hate for the ironborn was real with this old man. I wondered what the hell they did to him.

"Now we shouldn't rush to come to conclusions," Duncan said, placing a calming hand on the table. He looked around on each of the faces around it. "Lord Quellon has been making head way in reforming the ironborn to a people that could more work closely with the rest of the kingdoms. Why would he let them loose to attack our shipping? Ser Gerold, how have you come to accuse the ironborn in all this?" He finished, by levelling purple eyes in the direction of the Lord Commander.

"My nephew Lord Leyton has made me aware that many Hightower ships have been seen crossing the Redwyne Straits bound for some destination." The large and powerful knight replied, but he wasn't done speaking just yet. "I paid it no mind as ironborn have been noted to take their reaving elsewhere in the world, but with the recent bouts of piracy occurring in the Stepstones, I had come to the conclusion that they were only aiding to the problem."

"A raven will have to be sent to Pyke then," I said, wrapping my fingers on the table. Trade with the Stepstones was rather lucrative, and I really didn't want to see a dip in the incomes from the King's Landing port. That alone brought in hundreds of thousands of gold alone, sometimes even millions. "To see what Lord Quellon has to say about this."

"Perhaps malcontents?" Duncan suggested. "Lord Quellon is not the first to try and reform his people. Perhaps these ironborn heading for the Stepstones are more of the stubborn followers of the Old Way."

"From my understanding, most reformers tend to be murdered." The Grand Maester remarked dismissively. "No malcontent would let themselves be driven to petty piracy in the Stepstones."

I smiled at the Grand Maester. "Lord Quellon is a different sort...of breed from his forward thinking forebears." I rose up from my seat and walked towards a desk at the side that held several scrolls. "But regardless of the actions of the ironborn, the piracy is a problem. Something must be done about it."

Speaking of Quellon Greyjoy, out of all his brood, I was only interested in Balon and Victarion. Balon simply because he could give birth to Asha, someone reasonably smart all things considering. And Victarion because, despite being dumb as bricks, the man was somehow capable as an admiral and a warrior.

I wanted both of them. So Balon was only going to survive for as long as he did simply because I allowed it.

Euron was dead though. In fact, he was deader than dead. I just had to think of how.

"Another punitive action?" Lord Addam asked, his tone of voice more than telling me that he was beginning to tire of such things if the results were always going to be the same.

I shook my head. "No." I said, making my way back to the table with one particular scroll. "I have something a bit more permanent in mind about the Stepstone problem." I finished unrolling the scroll and lying it flat on the table. The others stood from their seats to make their way around to have a look at the map. I tapped at the island of Grey Gallows that was conveniently located in probably the most central location of all the Stepstones. "The pirates are a problem in the Stepstones because there is no permanent force there that roams the waters and keeps them in check. If such a force existed, they would surely slither to the Basilisk Islands or the Rhoyne to continue with the piracy."

Duncan had a barely visible frown on his face. "Your grace, surely you don't mean to annex the Stepstones? That would invite war with the Free Cities. The memory of the Kingdom of the Three Daughters is still very fresh."

The Grand Maester bobbed his weathered old head up and down. "It is true, your grace. Such a move might not be seen well with the essosi."

Curiously, Lord Addam rallied to my side. "But what his grace suggests is a commendable plan." A finger flickered to Tyrosh. "The Freehold had intended for Tyrosh to control the Stepstones, but these whoresons seem to find the Stepstones useful only if it allows them to line their pockets through piracy. If we were to have a fleet based in the Stepstones, I dare say we wouldn't lose any of them to piracy that pass through the Stepstones."

I was starting to think that Lord Addam had something against the people of Tyrosh. He seemed to not like them all that much.

Duncan nodded. "I know my history as well, Lord Addam, but the truth is still true that we cannot just annex the Stepstones. We would invite war."

"I never said anything about annexing the Stepstones." I told my uncle.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment in thought. "No...no you did not." He recalled, but he still seemed confused. "If you were not speaking of annexation, your grace, then what where you thinking off?"

I tapped at Grey Gallows again. Seriously, this was a ridiculously convenient island. I didn't know how big it was, but considering that Westeros seemed to be an over-sized Britain with parts of Europe thrown in their for good measure, I suspected that the Stepstones were the Channel Islands equivalent.

So, I guess either about the size of Jersey or Guernsey give or take a couple hundred acres or something.

"I'm proposing that we build a naval base on the island to house a substantial portion of the Royal Fleet to drive away the pirates for however long that takes."

The Grand Maester rubbed at his jaw once more. "It's not an outright full annexation, but it might very well work."

"But the Free Cities might still feel aggrieved by this transgression." Duncan pointed out.

I nodded. "That is quite true uncle, but we have an excuse." I trailed my finger away from Grey Gallows and towards a certain Free City. "Tyrosh is currently ruled by a man that had helped a mortal enemy of House Targaryen. They provided men and materiel to help invade Westeros. Would the Braavosi, the Pentosi, Volantenes, Myrish and Lyseni begrudge us for setting up an outpost as a first line of defence against such a threat? Especially considering they have yet to renounce their support for Daemon Blackfyre."

My uncle smiled then, slowly. "No, no they wouldn't."

"Of course, considering the threat that the Nine still pause, it would only be natural for us to build upon the outpost and fortify and garrison it to make sure that it would be foolish to attack it as well as strike out as soon as possible if the Blackfyres and their allies make another attempt to make for Westeros' shores."

The others slowly started to smile amongst themselves as they started getting my meaning. "Yes," Lord Addam said slowly. "That would be very foolish." A smile creeping across his face as well. "And if we were to build additional outposts on other islands, it would only be within our rights, would it not, my lords?"

I was starting to like this guy. I liked his thinking. That was good thinking. Just had to make sure that we had a reasonable excuse for doing the shit that we were going to be doing.

"What of the trade ships then?" Ser Gerold asked, breaking the mood that had been slowly encompassing our little group. "Shall we be charging fares like the Kingdom of the Thee Daughters? That was what brought the wrath of Prince Daemon and the Sea Snake onto the Stepstones."

The good knight had a point, but I had already thought of this. "We won't charge any merchants that pass through the Stepstones." I said with a shrug. "It shall be a royal decree. Set in stone and law. No charging of fees, ever." I had doubts that any future kings were going to actually follow my decree, but why would I care? By then, I'd be long dead. "Of course, the Free Cities that dabble in the slave trade should be made aware that if ships of the Royal Fleet do come across slaver ships, regardless of allegiance, they will be boarded and taken and the slaves freed. It's only right for any man of the Faith to do so."

The others nodded their heads in agreement with that.

After that, we spoke of the logistics of such an action. We talked of men and ships. Of supplies of carpenters and food. We had the sailors, we just needed the men to be the boots on the ground.

Apparently, my idea of a royal army was going to come into being sooner than I would have liked. I still had people sorting out the logistics for that. This was going to be a very long kingship.

"I think we did good." Duncan said with a nod after everyone else had left the council chambers. "We both played our parts well."

Prince Duncan had been in on all this. Nothing more than a mummer's act from the both of us as we had decided on this course of action long ago.

I smiled at my uncle and raised a cup in his honour. "Couldn't have done it without you. It was easy enough to get Lord Addam aboard."

"Lord Addam is a good man and a good admiral. The sort of man other men would willingly follow. His men care for him and in turn, he cares for them. He's lost good men and captains in the Stepstones for a good cause that with each new surge in piracy, seemed to bear no fruit. That would make any man angry."

That was true. Such a thing would be infuriating if I cared for my men as much as Duncan was saying. "The ironborn...I can't honestly say I'm surprised."

Duncan frowned then. "Lord Quellon has been able to keep them well under control over all these years. So why now?"

I shrugged in lieu of an answer. "Perhaps they can't stand the current climate of the Iron Islands anymore? They want to relieve the old days of the Hoares and their ilk from long ago in the Stepstones. I'm sure Lord Addam and his men have sent enough of them to meet their Drowned God in the depths of the sea."

Duncan turned towards the council table. "We need to talk about the council though. We need a full council for the realm to be run as smoothly as possible. The reforms you have had the Archmaester Russell and his retinue of maesters and acolytes of law have been making this more difficult than it has to be." My uncle finished, his tone slightly exasperated.

"You and grandfather agreed with my reasoning that some of the positions were too powerful for their own good. I mean, look at how we have come to in terms of intelligence. We know nothing simply because the spies of Ser Joffrey worked for him instead of the crown." I shook my head. "This needs to happen. It will make things easier in the future. So bare the burden for just a little longer, uncle. Archmaester Russell has said that he and his people are close."

"I would very much like it if he would hurry up. It's been near four years already."

"You can't rush change, uncle. Change comes at its own pace. All we can do is help it along."