Chapter 39: Antler Hall and Duskendale
In the great hall of Hogg Hall, Lady Mya Hogg clasped her father Ser Donnel Hogg's hand tightly.
"Father, please — let me go to King's Landing! I can make a name for myself there."
Her three younger sisters exchanged eager glances, while the sworn swords of House Hogg whispered among themselves.
Ser Donnel hesitated, but Prince Baelon Targaryen, standing beside him, spoke with a reassuring smile.
"Ser Donnel, Lady Mya will serve as a companion and sworn shield to Princess Gael Targaryen at the Red Keep. It will be good for her to see the world beyond your lands. She will meet Queen Alysanne and King Jaehaerys themselves. A strong-hearted girl such as your daughter will surely win the Queen's favor."
"King's Landing is but a day and a half's ride from here," Baelon continued. "She can return whenever she wishes. Lords and knights from across the realm gather there — a fine chance for her to make worthy friends or even find a good match."
Ser Donnel sighed deeply.
"Very well. It is an honor for a daughter of House Hogg to serve House Targaryen. But she has never journeyed so far, my prince. I entrust her safety to you and to Prince Daemon."
Mya smiled through her tears and embraced her father.
Prince Daemon Targaryen, arms crossed, smirked.
"Ser Donnel, you need not worry. Mya will serve both Princess Gael and myself. In King's Landing, I command knights enough to guard her from Flea Bottom to Silk Street. None would dare lay a hand on one of mine."
Upon learning she would accompany the two princes on their royal progress, Mya's excitement soared. She boasted to her sisters, Daisy and Rowan, "I'll see Gulltown, the Eyrie, Maidenpool, and Duskendale! And at last, King's Landing itself!"
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The next morning, as was his custom, Prince Baelon settled a land dispute between Ser Donnel and his neighbor, Ser Warrick, a sworn man of House Whent of Harrenhal, whose lands bordered the Crownlands.
The quarrel concerned a mill dam on the border stream. After hearing both sides, Baelon ruled they should share its upkeep and profits equally.
Before the royal party departed, Ser Donnel and Lady Margot Crakehall, Mya's mother, presented the princes with smoked hams and honeyed wine, while the local smallfolk offered baskets of red dates and melons.
Mya embraced her family one last time, then mounted her mare to join the escort of Kingsguard knights and Dragonkeepers, riding beneath the shadows of dragons soaring overhead.
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That night, Prince Baelon and Prince Daemon stayed at Antler Hall, seat of House Buckwell.
Lord Osmund Buckwell, an aged and stooped man in a brown fur cloak embroidered with golden antlers, welcomed them warmly with roast turkey, venison, and spiced plum wine.
Like many elders, Lord Osmund loved to reminisce. Though half-deaf, he spoke at length about his family's history until even his grandchildren begged him to stop.
At dinner, he raised a grievance about a disputed boundary with the lands of Hayford.
Baelon replied calmly, "Move the markers at once and settle it before resentment festers."
Lord Osmund grumbled, "During King Maegor's time, the Buckwells fought the Faith Militant and paid dearly for it. Our lands were larger then."
Baelon nodded. "Your grandsire stood with Maegor and fled to Pentos after his fall. Treason costs land, my lord — but loyalty can earn it back. Keep true to House Targaryen, and your fortune will grow again."
Before parting, Lord Osmund requested to send his two grandsons to the Red Keep to serve as squires, and Baelon gladly agreed.
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The next stop on their royal progress was Duskendale.
House Darklyn, once one of the mightiest families of the Crownlands, had ruled the region long before Aegon's Conquest. It was Queen Visenya Targaryen who had captured Duskendale during the wars of unification, seizing the Darklyn fleet and wealth — a prize that helped fund Aegon's conquest.
But with King's Landing rising nearby at the mouth of the Blackwater Rush, and the growing port of Spicetown on Driftmark, Duskendale's fortunes had waned.
South of the city, a rocky headland shielded the harbor from the storms of the Narrow Sea, creating a fine deepwater port. Shepherds tended their flocks on the hills, fishermen sold their catch along the docks, and peddlers hawked apples, bread, and hot pies in the narrow cobbled streets.
From above, mounted on Caraxes, Daemon estimated that Duskendale and its outlying villages held over ten thousand souls.
On the hill north of town stood Dun Fort, the stronghold of House Darklyn — a brownstone fortress of square towers and thick walls overlooking both port and city.
Lord Cerys Darklyn, a balding man with a reddish birthmark upon his crown, greeted Prince Baelon and Daemon in the courtyard, accompanied by his heir Ser Gyles Darklyn, and a venerable lady leaning on crutches — Ser Quentia Dake, once known as the Red Shadow.
The old knight had served as Queen Alysanne's sworn shield for over thirty years. Her hair was white now, and a fall from a horse had left her lame, yet she refused all help, walking proudly with her cane. Her crimson riding cloak still shone like blood in the sunlight.
Prince Baelon, who had known her since boyhood, embraced her warmly.
"The Queen often speaks of you, Ser Quentia. You should come back to King's Landing — the Red Keep is not the same without you."
The old woman chuckled.
"To die in a foreign hall? Never. I was born here in Duskendale and mean to see the King's fiftieth year upon the throne. Then perhaps I'll visit, and die content."
Her keen eyes fell upon Mya Hogg — tall, broad-shouldered, and armored in steel.
"A woman in mail, in my old age. Seven bless us."
Daemon smiled.
"This is Lady Mya Hogg of Hogg Hall — sworn to guard me and Princess Gael Targaryen."
"I've heard of you, Ser Quentia," Mya said brightly. "The songs of the Red Shadow are still sung in my village — the crimson serpent who unhorsed three knights in King's Landing's tourney."
Quentia laughed in surprise. "I've never met a maid as tall as you, girl. Six and a half feet if an inch! You've the frame of a northman. Perhaps my apprentice could spar with you."
Lord Cerys ordered a ship laden with beef and mutton driven to shore to feed Vhagar and Caraxes, who devoured their meal with fiery delight.
Later, the princes toured Duskendale's port and market. The townsfolk cheered their arrival, offering them baked trout, apples, and steaming meat pies.
Within Dun Fort's hall, fine Myrish carpets covered the floor, and lenses from Lys adorned the balcony for stargazing. Tapestries from Norvos depicted dragons and the Faith's wars. Minstrels played and dancers from Lys twirled before the lords.
Mya whispered in awe, "Is this the grandest castle in the realm?"
Daemon smirked. "Not even close — but better than most."
The feast was rich: honeyed larks, salmon, pike, soft white bread, and golden Arbor wine, with casks of rum brought up from the docks.
Afterward, Lord Cerys spoke of the Vale.
Baelon answered, "Lord Corlys Velaryon and his Valyrian fleet have driven out the Sistermen raiders. The Narrow Sea is calm again."
Cerys scoffed. "The Sea Snake would sell half the realm to smugglers if it brought him gold. His Spicetown thrives while Duskendale bleeds. If the Master of Ships grows fat on smuggling, honest trade will die."
Baelon promised to take the matter before the Small Council.
Then, a soft voice interrupted.
"You must be Prince Daemon."
A young woman entered — Mona Darklyn, dark-eyed and slender, her chestnut hair curling to her shoulders. She wore a hunter's green doublet and black wool breeches, with a short sword and dagger at her hips.
Daemon raised an eyebrow. "And who might you be?"
Quentia chuckled. "My apprentice — Mona Darklyn. As skilled with a blade as I ever was."
Lord Cerys frowned. "Mona, you should wear a gown when greeting princes, not your hunting leathers!"
Mona smiled. "I was out in the woods when I saw the dragons land. Would you have me miss the sight to change clothes?"
Quentia said fondly, "If any princess needs a female guard, Mona could serve as well as I once did."
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