Storms End.
Duke Boros Baratheon was no longer the fierce, valiant Auckland he had been more than a decade ago during the Dance of the Dragons. That war had worn away his ferocity and temper. The Stormlands paid a heavy price for his indecision. Since then, Boros always dreamt of his dead daughters and endless flames.
"I personally killed six thousand soldiers of the Stormlands."
"I personally killed my daughters."
"I personally ruined the future of the Stormlands."
Boros sat silently on the Storm King's throne. He had countless times regretted his past indecision and greed. If Auckland had firmly stood with Rhaenyra then, the Stormlands could have at least saved Night Song City, and even carved out a piece of the Reach.
It wouldn't be like this now. Although on the surface, the Baratheon family was still one of the strongest families in the Realm, no one knew better than Duke Boros how weak the Stormlands currently were. The Stormlands, having lost the Borderlands, now found it difficult to even muster twenty thousand men. They even had to hire mercenaries and recruit wandering soldiers and knights.
"My Lord, ravens from Lord Clinton, Lord Metellin, and Lord Swann have arrived." The Scholar, hunched, scurried to the Duke's side.
"I hope they can recruit enough troops and ships." Duke Boros took the letters. He had now skillfully mastered reading and writing the Common Tongue without the Scholar's help, and could even speak a few sentences of High Valyrian. Of course, only a few sentences.
Roland Clinton, the current Earl of Griffins Roost from the Clinton family, was a reckless young man. When the Dance of the Dragons broke out, he was still a babbling child. Young men like him, who didn't understand the cruelty of war, were the most eager for war and for achievements.
Griffins Roost was also the place where the most troops were gathered. Roland Clinton opened the family's treasury, and with money flowing like water, his castle gathered over six thousand five hundred soldiers from various places, including more than three hundred hired knights. Mistwood Castle of the Metellin family and Stonehelm of House Swann were far less impressive. The nobles of the Southern Stormlands gathered towards these two castles, and eventually, the two families together recruited over eight thousand soldiers, including no less than six hundred cavalry. Food prepared for the war had also set off to be concentrated at Stonehelm and Mistwood Castle.
Duke Boros closed the letter. King's Landing had tacitly approved his plan to march on the Stepstones. Of course, unlike Prince Daemon back then, he had the entire Stormlands as a backing, with abundant troops and provisions. Presumably, he wouldn't drag it out like Daemon, who, despite successfully being crowned King of the Narrow Sea, soon scurried back to King's Landing in disgrace. Dragon Nest City also did not object; in fact, Earl Samwell, commander of the Silver Fleet, and Gonsor Fire-Bringer even proactively wrote letters, promising to provide ships for crossing the sea.
Of course, it wasn't free. However, the price was within Duke Boros's acceptable range.
"What does Rogare Bank say?" Duke Boros planned to borrow money from Rogare Bank in King's Landing to hire ships from Lys.
Lys had now almost become a dog of Targaryen—no, it had completely become a dog of Targaryen. Lisandro Rogare, with the help of the Targaryen family, completely consolidated his position in Lys. He had originally intended to proclaim himself First Archon for life at this time, but a letter from Dragonzel interrupted his plans.
Ultimately, the Governors of Lys were surprised to find that Lisandro, who had been aggressive before, suddenly changed his demeanor. He no longer pursued complete and utter centralization, leaving a small amount of dignity for other families.
The political situation in Lys gradually stabilized and began to recover its vitality. However, the former wealth and strength of the Three Daughters were a thing of the past. The Dance of the Dragons and the War of the Three Daughters completely shattered this alliance, which was harmonious in appearance but not in heart. Now, Tyrosh had fallen, Myr and Lys had become enemies, and Lisandro was actively preparing for a revenge war against Myr.
He was very interested in the Baratheon family's plan.
"Lord Lotto agreed to the loan," the Scholar said. "But he also proposed a contract: if Your Grace is willing to lead troops to provide support in Lys's revenge war, Governor Lisandro is also willing to reduce the debt."
'These damned bloodsucking leeches,' Boros thought to himself.
However, he still smiled with satisfaction: "Write back to Lord Lotto and tell him that the Stormlands cherish Governor Lisandro Rogare's friendship, and we are willing to provide all necessary assistance to our allies."
The Scholar bowed his head and slowly exited the hall, leaving behind Duke Boros, whose smile had faded, his face grim.
Outside Storms End.
Rhaegor and his two companions retrieved their shields from the blacksmith. Just as Ailarion thought they would join the battle as mercenaries, Rhaegor told them they would not participate in the fight, but would instead continue north to the Crownlands and the Riverlands.
"Your Highness, aren't we preparing for battle?" Ailarion was very confused. They had bought breastplates, prepared horses, and even had shields ready. Wasn't this to follow the main army to the Stepstones battlefield?
"Ailarion, what is our mission?" Legan understood Rhaegor's meaning and asked. "To protect Your Highness," Ailarion was still very confused.
"Then what is Your Highness's mission?"
"To travel." Ailarion finally understood. He sincerely bowed his head to the silent Rhaegor: "Your Highness, it was my mistake."
"It's alright," Rhaegor smiled when he saw his companion understood. "The Stepstones, we still have a chance to go there."
Rhaegor indeed had the idea of participating in the war, but certainly not now. He needed to complete his mission of traveling the continent within the time his father had set. With his knowledge, this war in the Stormlands would not end quickly. The Baratheon family had no navy; they could only hire fleets to cross the sea and fight, and those pirates were truly battle-hardened. No matter how many troops the Stormlands gathered, it would be useless if they couldn't be transported to the islands.
Unless Boros could acquire a capable and victorious fleet.
The two youths exchanged glances, confirmed that Rhaegor wasn't joking, and relaxed.
More and more people gathered below Storms End; people arrived every day, and people left every day. So the departure of the three youths was never a big deal.
Only the blacksmith of Storms End felt a bit dejected.
The big client from House Tarly he had eagerly awaited had disappeared, leaving the blacksmith, who thought he could make a fortune and forge a good relationship with another noble family, to sigh for a long time.
Dragon Nest City, Silver Blood Tower.
Diana looked out the window with some worry. Since Rhaegor left, her habits had changed. Previously, after putting her child to sleep, she preferred to stroll in the garden and enjoy delicacies, and then review the ledgers.
But now, she preferred to stare blankly out the window, constantly recalling her son's appearance.
"They have left the Stormlands," Dragonzel said softly, walking to his wife's side.
Diana then collected her thoughts and looked at her husband with a hint of sorrow: "Promise me, Dragonzel, if anything happens to Rhaegor... I know you can feel it, please protect him."
'He is our son after all,' Diana thought to herself.
Dragonzel smiled wryly and nodded.
'He won't be in danger,' Dragonzel also thought to himself.
'After all, he is my son, a true dragon of Silver Blood.'
He also looked out the window. The Green Men's promise from back then should be fulfilled by now. Dragonzel had seen some of the future in Melisandre's flames.
He saw Rhaegor under a weirwood, which meant that the promise from back then was about to be fulfilled, though unfortunately not for himself, but for his son.
'I hope the Green Men's promise will satisfy me.'
'At least satisfy Rhaegor.'
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