Chapter 61

The man in front of her was slim, almost too skinny for her taste, but she couldn't deny that he had a certain charm. His pale skin stood out in particular - far too pale for someone who lived in a climate as warm as the one here in Gogossos. His dark hair, neatly tied back, gave him a certain elegance, but his posture seemed stiff.

Dona could tell immediately if someone was a warrior or not. It had become an instinct in the decades she had lived.

And though the man before her was clad in armor that made it appear he could handle a sword, she knew better.

The way he carried the weight of the armor, the way his movements seemed stiff and unnatural, gave him away.

He was someone who spent more time making plans and decisions in the safety of his chambers than on the battlefield. His pale complexion, which did not suit a man from a warm climate like Gogossos, also underlined her suspicions.

His pale eyes sought hers as he spoke.

"After the fall of the glorious empire of Valyria, we are especially honored to have a Dragonlord standing before us. If I may ask, who am I speaking to?" Draven inquired with caution.

"I am Dona of House Baelaeron, but I'm sure you already knew that, didn't you?" she replied with a wide, challenging grin.

"We suspected your house but weren't sure, my lady. Nor did we know your name," he replied, trying to remain respectful.

"It's Princess now!" she corrected him heatedly.

Draven Meroq, slim and pale as he was, flinched barely visibly, but quickly corrected himself. "Forgive me, Princess Dona of House Baelaeron."

"You are forgiven," Dona said with a dismissive and amused smile.

She loved to see how they were taken aback when she appeared so impulsive and whimsical.

"Well, I must say, you have a lovely city that is of interest."

"May I ask in what ways this city arouses your interest?" Draven asked as he gave Orion a quick, puzzled look.

Dona let the grin on her face widen as she savored the tension in the air. "Who said Gogossos was of my interest?" she retorted.

"Then whose interest is it?"

"My brother's, Kaelarys Baelaeron," she replied casually as she took a few steps in her direction.

Orin, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "I didn't know that the Baelaeron family had named another son of theirs Kaelarys," he said skeptically.

Dona's smile disappeared, her lips curled into a thin line, and a cold expression took its place before she replied softly, almost in a whisper. "We didn't."

Dona stepped even closer to Orin so that he could feel her hot breath on his skin. Her hand stroked gently and provocatively along his arm and she savored the feeling of power that she missed so much.

Orin swallowed involuntarily and although he tried to avert his eyes from her, her gaze continued to mesmerize him.

"You're not suggesting that Kaelarys Baelaeron, the Rider of Ancalagon, is still alive, are you?"

Dona smiled playfully, took a step back, and looked at both men. "He is," she answered.

The looks on the men's faces revealed that they did not believe her, but Dona was not to be deterred.

"And from now on, and for all time, you will address him as Emperor Kaelarys Baelaeron. I know you don't believe me. But you will - when you see him."

"Until then," she continued, raising her voice slightly, "we will wait here for the other heads of the family. So that they, like you, can pledge your allegiance to the new Empire."

"Or, if you prefer, you are welcome to make the acquaintance of my darling Valyrax."

A sadistic smile played on her lips as Valyrax, the bronze fury himself, punctuated her words with a low roar aimed at them.

---

Seran Vorjo had his hands pressed firmly on the wooden railing of the ship, while his gaze was focussed on the white walls and gleaming towers of Lys in the distance. The waves lapped gently against the hull of the ship, and the salty scent of the sea lingered in the air.

Not in his wildest dreams had he ever thought that one day he would be the one in charge of conquering Lys. Yet here he was now.

Volantis had invested a great deal in conquering Lys, and failure would be synonymous with his death.

"Commander," a gruff voice came from behind him.

Seran turned and saw Ralon, his second in command, stepping towards him. The brawny man with the scarred face removed his helmet before speaking. "The men are ready. All ships are in position, and the soldiers are just waiting for your order."

"Good," Seran replied, turning back to the walls of Lys. "Give the order!"

Ralon nodded and immediately turned away to pass on the orders.

The ships began to approach the city at an increased speed.

Several dozen warships stationed outside the harbor hurriedly approached the Volantenian armada. It was a desperate attempt, but despite their numerical disadvantage, the soldiers of Lys showed courage. They sailed straight for their ships.

"The fools have no way out," Seran muttered as he watched the Lysian ships move. He raised his hand. "Archers, stand ready!"

"Now!" Seran ordered, lowering his hand to signal the other ships and archers.

A flaming hail of arrows was released, and hundreds of arrows shot through the air like a storm of glowing streaks in the sky.

They fell on the Lysian ships like deadly raindrops, but instead of moisture they brought fire. The arrows struck the decks, the sails and the rigging, and flames were soon ignited, spreading rapidly across the wooden ships.

The Lysian ships that were not hit by the flaming arrows had no time to rally. The Volanten ships rammed into them at full speed.

The bows of the Volanten warships dug deep into the hulls of the Lysian ships, splintering wood and sending great waves from the impact.

Seran stood at the helm of his flagship, arms folded, watching the scene of destruction before turning his attention to the docks and the guards now clearly visible on the walls." Let's focus on the city."

"Prepare to land!" Ralon shouted loudly across the deck as they neared the harbor. "Get ready to storm the docks! Archers stay behind and stand ready! Anyone standing on the walls will be struck by a rain of arrows! As soon as the first ships land, the leading troops will storm the docks and secure the gates!"

All over the decks of the Volantenian ships, soldiers began to take up positions. Archers stood at the bow with their bows drawn, arrows ready to send them over the walls. The front ranks of infantry gathered at the railings, their swords and spears in their hands.

"When we reach the gates," Ralon continued as he surveyed the troops, "break them open!"

"No hesitation, no mercy!" roared Ralon across the deck. "The city belongs to Volantis - and we will take it! The key to riches, power, and glory lies before you, take it, it is yours!"

"For Volantis!"

The shouts echoed across the water, and the war cries grew by the second. Swords were raised in the air, shields were struck on the decks.

As the first ships reached the harbor, the Volantian soldiers swung themselves overboard onto the jetty, their swords and spears firmly in their hands.

They charged forward, determined and unstoppable, the first ranks forming up in orderly formation.

The Lysian guards on the docks were vastly outnumbered and visibly unprepared. Their defense was hasty and uncoordinated. Some tried desperately to push back the attackers with their spears, but they were all slaughtered and the troops pressed on.

"Forward! No mercy!"

"Break open the gates!"

"Climb the walls!"

Seran, who had remained on the ship to survey the situation, stroked his beard thoughtfully. His gaze wandered over the harbor, the burning ships and the bloody battlefields. "Strange," he muttered quietly to himself.

Something was wrong.

They had hardly put up any resistance worth mentioning. It had been mostly slaves, slave soldiers and inexperienced fighters who had fallen on the docks, but no elite warriors, no real defenders of the city.

Bodies lay everywhere, scattered like puppets on a playing field. But the longer he looked at the scene, the more he realized that it all seemed staged. It was too smooth.

Just as this thought was taking shape in his mind, he suddenly heard the loud, piercing ringing of bells. Seran froze. The ringing was coming from the city itself.

Seran raised his head hastily and looked around as his heartbeat quickened.

Something was very wrong.

He turned slowly towards the sea - and there he saw it. Dozens, no, hundreds of sails came into view. An armada of ships on a gigantic scale.

"It was a trap..." he whispered as he realized the inevitable.

Their ships were mostly undefended and had no way out of the harbor, they were doomed!

---

Men scroll

Men see

Men smile

Men gifts Stones

Men leaves Review

Men leaves happily.

Yours,

Jasonenrick! :D