Dragonlord Chapter 135: To win at all costs (Patreon)

Triston Sunderland glared at his servants, scurrying away from him like rodents as if seeing a big cat. The last few weeks have been nothing but hectic for him. There was only chaos and utter craziness around him, some of which was his own making.

When he had agreed to host Myrish pirates, it was on the understanding that he would secure some easy coin from his guests, support from House Arryn, and have the opportunity to swindle the unsuspecting Northerners. What he didn’t expect to happen was for the Myrish pirates to become a rowdy bunch within his lands, House Arryn to be diminished so far that a foolish woman now ruled the Eyrie and the Northerners to be so bold as to attack his islands.

He supposed he should’ve seen this coming when he pulled the wolf’s tale swayed by the honeyed words of that petty lord from the Fingers. He was promised support from House Arryn and the Small Council should the Northerners make his activities an issue. Besides, he could’ve continued to prey on the Northern ships under the guise of Myrish pirates. Initially, the whole scheme was profitable for him. All he had to do was provide safe ports for the pirates, and in return, he got a portion of the spoils. The pirates also spent a portion of their fortune and sold some of their haul on the islands, which made them richer.

But now, things changed and not for the better.

His benefactor, Petyr Baelish, had disappeared into the wind. Lady Lysa Arryn accused the Baratheons of holding Lord Baelish prisoner, while the Baratheons claimed Lord Baelish murdered Jon Arryn and fled the city. He didn’t care a whit what the mad woman in the Eyrie or the idiots in King’s Landing were saying. All he knew was that Petyr Baelish, the man who introduced him to the Myrish pirates and planned this whole elaborate plot, had gone missing.

This entire debacle started happening at the most unfortunate of times because now he was faced with repeated attacks by the Northern fleet. At first, he thought the Manderlys were flexing their naval power, but he received reports of sightings of massive war galleys carrying the direwolf banners. It didn’t take long for those reports of sightings to change from reports of ships lost in the sea.

So far, he had lost five ships to the Northerners with all hands lost in the sea. By the luck he was having so far, none of them survived. If they did, it was purely by the mercy of the Northerners.

Triston couldn’t help but curse himself for this mess. After all, it was his own actions that led to this mess. He had no one else to blame.

“Father!”

Triston was broken out of his musings when his eldest son rushed to his side with a grave look.

‘There comes one of the seven reasons I got involved in this mess.’ Triston thought with a grimace.

“What is it, Edgar?” he asked crisply.

“We received word from the Littlesister, my lord.”

At the mention of his chief collaborators in the easternmost island of his domain, Triston became interested. He hoped the Gulltown Arryns had sent their fleet as he requested. It was a desperate hope on his part as the Gulltown folk were merchants in all but name. They were an insult to the Arryn name, and even the Vale didn’t take them seriously.

“What does House Torrent have to say?” he asked with a frown.

“Lord Alesandor reports he fought the Northerners trying to land on their northern shores. They managed to beat off the Northerners but says he took some heavy causalities.” Edgar reported in a rush.

“They’re trying to land on our shores.” Triston breathed with a troubled look.

He could feel his heart race. While he and every Sistermen in the islands had reasons for disliking the Northerners, they were hardly prepared for a war with the North. There were stories told to this day of the cold and ruthless way the Northerners conquered their islands. It took them centuries of wars with the support of the Vale to beat back the Northerners.

In the end, they couldn’t preserve their autonomy and instead had to bend the knee to the Arryns of the Vale.  

Triston couldn’t help but fear history was about to repeat itself. But this time, the North was vastly powerful, with two large fleets and a dangerous sorcerer at the helm, while the Vale remained divided over the absence of Lord Arryn.

“What should we do, father?” Edgar asked with trepidation.

Triston eyed his son with a look of contempt. The gods had blessed him with seven sons, but their appetites did not befit a Sunderland. He blamed their mainland mother for filling their heads with stories of knights and grandeur.

If his sons hadn’t been taken so seriously by the need to become knights, he wouldn’t have agreed to host the pirates and help raid Northern ships. The cost of buying finely bred destriers alone was crippling to his finances. Then, he had to purchase plate armour for all his seven sons in their foolish quest to become knights. He had no choice but to take loans to cover his costs, which landed him in debt to the likes of Baelish and some Myrish lenders.

Even if he wanted to turn against his benefactors, it’d only further damage his reputation and that of his house. Besides, if he spent time and resources to hunt down the pirates he gave refuge in his lands, he’d be only making things easy for the Northmen.

No. Despite what he thought of his past decisions, Triston knew his only option was to defend the islands and hope the lords of the Vale barter a peace agreement with the North.

“We weather the storm as best as we can.” Triston said to his eldest son with grim determination. “Gather the rest of our captains. We’ll have them increase patrolling the shores of Longsister. Send a raven to Lord Borrell to do the same.”

“Yes, father.” Edgar nodded and made to walk away.

“Edgar.”

Triston watched his son pause and look at him curiously.

“Take your brothers and give them enough men to patrol our shores. If a single Northern boat lands on our shores, I want them to be there to defend our lands.”

“But…”

“They wanted to be knights. They’ll now serve our people as knights should.” Triston said with a glare that shut up his son.

Triston sighed, watching his eldest walk away. He supposed some of the blame should fall on his shoulders. He shouldn’t have indulged his sons swayed by the last words of his wife. Training them to be knights was his way of honouring his dead wife.

He spent the rest of the day sending word to all villages inland to gather more men for the war that was on the horizon. After working almost till midnight, fussing over the supplies, sending messages to his fellow lords and making sure the armoury of his castle contained enough weapons, Triston went to sleep.

However, sleep didn’t come easy to him. His mind was haunted by the prospect of battle. He lay there awake in bed as the night smothered his lands in darkness.

Suddenly, he heard the faint sounds of screaming. At first, he thought it was his imagination. But then, bells started tolling, and Triston jumped out of the bed. He rushed out of his room and moved to the other side of the castle facing the sea. His mouth dropped open, and he stared at his harbour in horror.

There was a blazing inferno burning through parts of his fishing harbour. Triston immediately rushed out of his castle, gathering his guards and as many men as possible. He wanted to make sure it was an accident and control the fire before it could spread. There were galleys in his harbour undergoing some repairs, and he needed to keep them safe.

“Get the fire under control, you fools!” Triston roared as he cajoled his men to act before the entire harbour turned to ash.

******

The stars hung low over the tumultuous waters of the Bite as Jon prepared for a venture unlike any he had undertaken before. The stench of salt filled the air, a stark contrast to the crisp, clean scent of the North.

This was the first time he was solely in command of a battle, and he didn’t want to disappoint his brother. Harrion only gave him one directive: to force the Sistermen to sue for peace. He was allowed to achieve this goal by any means necessary. That was how he came to possess the Nimbus as his flagship for the battle. 

The Nimbus was one of the new airships his brother had commissioned at Avalon. It was designed by the finest Lyseni craftsmen and shipbuilders working in tandem with his brother and the shipbuilders of Avalon. Unlike the Liberator, the Nimbus was built with a sleeker design and hosted a chamber within the hull of the airship to host dragons. A portion of the bottom of the hull right now hosted Sundancer, but unlike the magical trunk, there was no pocket dimension with a habitat.

The Nimbus was designed to pursue a fast-paced war. It was even faster than the Liberator, the most powerful airship in their arsenal. However, unlike the Liberator, the Nimbus was designed to function only as an airship. There were no sails on his ship, unlike all other airships in Avalon.

The Nimbus came to an abrupt stop, keying Jon to the fact that they reached their destination.

Jon looked down from his observatory at the land lying directly below. A lighthouse with a large torch burning near the harbour made it easy to identify the general location of their target. House Sunderland ruled the Three Sisters, and his brother’s investigation into the pirate activity in the region pointed to one Triston Sunderland. So, it became obvious who deserved their ire, and his brother was all about making an example of people who dared to harm the North’s interests. It just so happened that House Sunderland presented itself as a convenient target for displaying House Stark's true power.

Jon watched dispassionately as caches of Wildfire were dropped from the sides of the airship. Some of that Wildfire must’ve landed on the lighthouse because the lighthouse lit up with bright green flames.

The wild untamed flames of Wildfire roared to life and spread out in every direction. It consumed everything in its path and ignited the other caches of Wildfire splattered on the ground. It didn’t take long for a portion of one of the largest harbours in Longsister to be consumed by fire. With the fire spreading in all corners, Jon issued new orders for Adela, who was captaining the ship.

The bombardment of the harbour using Wildfire caches was put on hold while Jon left his observatory to the base of the Nimbus’ hull. He found Sundancer quietly munching on the burnt carcass of a bull. The smell of burnt flesh invaded his nostrils, making Jon grimace a bit. The Dragonkeepers his brother had provided were standing three spear-length away from his golden dragon.

The Dragonkeepers were mindful always to keep their distance from Sundancer. His dragon was temperamental and disliked anyone else coming too close, even if it was to feed the dragon. Winter, on the other hand, was a sweetheart and showed no hostility to anyone. The ice dragon spent her days munching on barks of trees and Weirwood leaves.

Sundancer growled as he drew closer. The dragon’s eyes tracked even though Sundancer was munching on a meaty leg. Jon could hear the crunch of the bones as Sundancer crushed the bull’s bones between its teeth.

“Sundancer.”

The golden beast turned its burning yellow eyes on him fully. It let out a throaty growl and nudged his palm with its snout. He felt the heat of Sundancer’s presence, rekindling the bond he shared with the dragon.

“It’s time to burn some of our enemies.” Jon whispered as he rubbed the golden scales along the long neck of his dragon.

“Are you up for it, Sundancer?”

The dragon reared its head and let out a mighty roar that echoed inside the chamber. Sundancer lowered his neck and angled it in a way that made it easier for Jon to climb into the saddle. He secured himself on the riding harness and took the reins tied to the horns of Sundancer into his hands. He had the reins tied loosely to the crossbar on the harness.

“Fly with me, Sundancer.” Jon muttered, patting the side of his dragon’s neck as a portion of the hull opened, allowing the salty, cold air to rush into the chamber.

The wind whipped around him as Sundancer leapt from the airship.

“Woooooo!” Jon howled as they plummeted to the ground, but Sundancer unruffled his mighty wings, and they glided through the air smoothly.

As the wind rushed past his face, the thrill of flight turned into the rush of battle coursing through his veins. They circled the harbour, and Jon searched for the most critical target. Fortunately, it was easy to find the ships tied to the port thanks to the column of fire illuminating what was supposed to be a darkened night.

Jon inhaled sharply and pressed upon the harness tightly.

“Dive!” Jon roared.

Sundancer answered with a happy growl and dived without hesitation. The rush of wind was expected, and he leaned against the harness, holding on tight as the night's cold air rushed past his body. He tugged at the reins, directing Sundancer to bank left to cut a path straight towards the ships.

Saundancer picked up speed and rushed towards the ships like a golden bolt. The light from the burning Wildfire made Sundancer glow like a second sun. Jon felt the blood pumping through his veins as Sundancer neared the row of ships neatly aligned to his comfort.

“Dracarys!”

Sundancer happily unleashed his golden flames. A torrent of fire engulfed the ships as Sundancer breathed a long line of dragonfire across the ships. Wood cracked and splintered under the intense heat of dragonfire. One galley just blew up in a spectacular fashion, which made Jon laugh at the sight. The ships became floating pyres as the crews jumped ships to save themselves from a fiery death. The screams of men drowned out everything else until Sundancer let out a powerful roar that shook the sky and earth.

Chaos erupted on the ground below as people ran for cover, seeing a dragon breathing fire and death upon their heads. They ran aimlessly, and those who could’ve directed the people below to a semblance of order were nowhere to be seen.

Jon manoeuvred Sundancer with expertise and determination to destroy all ships of House Sunderland. He began destroying ship after ship, and sometimes, he veered off into the interior to strike terror in the hearts of men.

Soon, the harbour was consumed by the golden flames of Sundancer, turning it into a scene of carnage. Jon watched the combination of dragonfire and Wildfire create great gales of fiery winds that swept buildings, people and trees into a storm of fire. The heat was so intense Jon urged Sundancer to stay high while circling the harbour.

With the harbour turning into a fiery hell, Jon turned his attention to the castle. He was ordered to leave the castle intact, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t leave a message with Triston Sunderland.

Jon pulled the reins sharply, forcing Sundancer to bank sharply to the south.

“Let’s teach those idiots a lesson they’ll never forget. Be ready, Sundancer.” Jon murmured against the warm scales of his dragon.

Sundancer answered with a low growl and beat his wings, gaining speed. As they swiftly reached the castle, Jon urged Sundancer to fly low. Shouts of panic could be heard and it was then he realised there was some major road below.

Jon guided Sundancer and arched towards the castle.

“Dracarys!”

The ground around the castle erupted in a storm of fire. More screams erupted from the ground while Jon guided Sundancer to breathe fire on the scattered buildings surrounding the castle.

Sundancer quickly rose high into the sky, and Jon surveyed the devastation below. Feeling he had completed his mission, Jon urged Sundancer to return to the ship. He turned his head and shot one last look at the harbour. Flames continued to burn bright, with smoke surrounding the castle and the harbour.

He hoped the Sistermen would see sense and sue for peace. If not, his brother would come to the Three Sisters, and he doubted that Harry would show any restraint.

“I hope they’ll remember this day – the day dragons returned to the world.” Jon muttered with a grin.

He turned his sights on the Nimbus and urged Sundancer ahead.

******

Highgarden basked under a brilliant sun, the verdant gardens stretching in all directions like a lush tapestry woven by nature’s hand. The seat of House Tyrell was one born of great prominence and legacy. Garth Greenhand, the king of First Men, made these lands, and House Tyrell enjoyed its bounties since the end of House Gardner.

Olenna stepped through the arch entrance to her favourite spot in her garden to meet a most interesting guest. The fragrance of roses and lavender filled the air, an intoxicating mix that was both comforting and deceptive. Usually, the fragrance had the power to put her mind at ease. But today, she couldn’t afford to relax even a little.

She found her guest sitting on a chair in the garden, watching the beauty of the garden. Streaks of golden rays from the sun sneaked through the openings amongst the leaves, shielding her garden.

“Prince Doran Martell. When I was informed of your arrival, I couldn’t believe my ears. Even now, I struggle to believe my eyes.” Olenna said breezily, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“You may trust your keen eyes and sharp hearing. Your senses haven’t dulled a bit, my lady.” Doran commented with a small nod.

“Indeed.” Olenna commented as she took a seat across from Doran. “Though, I must note the timing of your visit is uncanny.”

“Why do you say that, my lady?” Doran asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The capital is embroiled in a war between two faiths while the Lady of the Eyrie accuses the Queen of murdering her husband. The North and the Vale have become hostile to the actions of the Sistermen. The Lannisters have lost their gold, teeth and claws thanks to Robert Baratheon and Harrion Stark. Your daughter is betrothed to the richest and most dangerous man in Westeros. The Targaryens gather swords to their cause across the Narrow Sea while dissent and strife spread across the Seven Kingdoms.” Olenna listed off every major incident one after the other.

“As I said, your eyes remain keen and your ears sharp.” Doran complimented.   

“The alliance that brought the House of the Dragon to its knees is unravelling at its seams, and I cannot help but see a hidden hand playing all sides from the shadows.” Olenna said, her eyes gaining an unnatural sharpness, but Doran remained unbothered.  

“I have come seeking an alliance between our houses.” Doran said bluntly.

“An alliance against whom and for what?” Olenna asked with narrowed eyes.

“To restore the rightful king to the Iron Throne.”

“I must confess I’m disappointed, Prince Doran.” Olenna looked at the Dornish prince with apathy, “After all these years, you’re throwing your fortune behind Viserys Targaryen.”

“You’re mistaken, Lady Olenna. I have come here on behalf of my nephew, King Aegon the Sixth of his name, the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Your nephew is dead.” Olenna said, but she was less confident than she was a moment ago.

“He was dead because he wished it to be so. But now, King Aegon has decided to reveal himself. He seeks House Tyrell to honour their oaths sworn to his ancestor Aegon the First. He’ll need loyal Reachmen by his side when he leads his armies and a Queen to help him govern the Seven Kingdoms. I believe King Aegon can find both in Highgarden.”

Olenna had to admit she was stunned at this turn of events. She never expected something like this to happen in this meeting, and she needed time to think properly before she committed the fortunes of House Tyrell to anything or anyone. After all, she was playing the Game of Thrones, and in this deadly game, the only option was to win at all costs.