New chapter! Thanks for all the support!
x
In Westeros, a castle that surrendered after its lord was dead was usually spared the full punishment of a storming.
Robb had no interest in slaughtering Dragonstone's remaining garrison for pride. Davos Seaworth had brought Stannis's head, surrendered the castle, and offered useful information besides. There were hidden stores of wildfire inside the Stone Drum. Had the inner fighting dragged on, Dragonstone itself might have become a green tomb.
Davos tried to bargain in the old way. He raised small matters, named conditions that could be yielded, and used them to hide the one thing he truly needed.
Robb cut through all of it.
"I will spare Selyse Florent and Shireen Baratheon," he said. "Shireen will live in the Red Keep. She will be treated as a noble girl under royal protection, not as a prisoner in chains."
Davos looked up.
Robb continued, "But she will not leave my sight. She is Stannis's daughter, and she carries royal blood. I will not allow anyone who serves fire or shadow to use her in his name."
Davos's hands tightened. He understood.
After a long silence, he bowed his head. "If Your Grace swears she will be treated fairly, I accept."
"I swear it."
Rolland Storm brought the garrison out. Selyse Florent and Princess Shireen followed under guard. Barrels of wildfire were removed from the Stone Drum with more care than any treasure.
Robb ordered the Stone Drum preserved. Theon and the ironborn were allowed to loot the rest of the inner castle, while Redwyne soldiers and ironborn search parties began combing the caves beneath Dragonstone.
They found what Robb had come for.
Dragonglass lay in black veins and broken shelves beneath the island. Stannis had gathered some of it, but the true reserves were far greater. The stone was not buried so deep that it required impossible mining. With enough prisoners and enough tools, Dragonstone could arm an army against the dead.
Paxter Redwyne's men took over the work. Prisoners were assigned to mining under supervision, while Selyse and Rolland Storm were made responsible for communicating with the captive garrison and preventing unrest.
Davos and Shireen would travel to King's Landing.
The Onion Knight had a tongue suited to diplomacy and a face men trusted. Shireen was both innocent and dangerous, a child who could become a knife in another man's hand if Robb allowed it.
Before leaving the island, Robb walked with Davos through the Chamber of the Painted Table.
The great table still showed Westeros in carved stone and painted coastlines. Stannis had stood here and imagined his kingdom. Now the room belonged to the king who had taken it from him.
Theon found Robb there later and reported on the spoils with obvious disappointment.
"Less than ten thousand gold dragons," he said. "Stannis was poorer than a drowned fisherman. Defeats, loans from the Iron Bank, and empty pride. That is all he left."
"The dragonglass is worth more than his treasury," Robb said.
Theon grimaced, but he did not argue.
On the voyage back, Robb spent much of his time teaching Theon how to face the captains of the Iron Islands.
Asha's faction had been deliberately weakened at Dragonstone. Her most stubborn supporters had died on the stair, and the captains who survived had seen Theon remain alive, favored, and useful. Even with Euron stirring trouble, the combined strength of Euron and Asha should still be weaker than Theon's preserved core.
But ironborn loyalty was a blade without a handle. Hold it carelessly, and it cut the palm.
After dropping Robb at the Blackwater docks, Theon returned west.
A month passed.
King's Landing continued to rebuild. Blacksmiths from the Street of Steel were sent to Dragonstone to help shape dragonglass weapons. Prisoners hauled ore. Redwyne ships carried the first loads back across the narrow sea.
Then the Iron Fleet closed around Lordsport.
Theon had delayed on the way, lingering at Sunspear and Oldtown under the pretext of travel, pleasure, and politics. In truth, the delay was part of Robb's arrangement. By the time he returned to Pyke, Euron Greyjoy and the island chiefs had already gathered.
Silence rode at anchor like a black wound on the water.
The Crow's Eye greeted Theon with a smile.
"Nephew. You have grown proud."
"And you have grown old in exile," Theon answered. "Did the far seas teach you anything besides boasting?"
Euron laughed softly. His blue lips curved under the patch that covered one eye. "I have sailed from Ib to Asshai. Men pray when they see my sails."
"Men pray in storms too. That does not make the storm a king."
The captains around them muttered.
Euron did not look angered. That made him more dangerous.
Gormond Goodbrother and several other chiefs stepped forward. They cited the laws of Galon Whitestaff and argued that Theon's earlier crowning had been tainted by Robb Stark's influence. A true kingsmoot, they said, had to be held on Old Wyk, beneath Nagga's bones.
Many captains answered with approval.
Theon let them speak. Then he said, "Good. We will hold it properly."
The decision drew shouts from the men, but Theon only looked toward the sea. This too was part of Robb's plan.
That night, Asha went aboard Silence.
Euron received her naked, with two mute girls in thin gauze kneeling nearby. When they opened their mouths, Asha saw the raw absence of tongues.
"Still fond of pretty horrors," she said.
"Pretty things are easier to keep when they cannot speak," Euron answered. "You came to keep our agreement?"
"I came to tell you Theon is not as weak as you think. My old captains were cut down at Dragonstone. His were preserved. If he chooses force, we may not have enough men."
"You worry too much."
"And you enjoy danger too much."
Euron's smile sharpened. "I will take the Seastone Chair, and then I will take more than these wet rocks. When I go after the Iron Throne, the islands may need someone to hold them."
"Me?"
"If you are useful."
Asha stared at him. "The Old Way?"
"We Do Not Sow," Euron said. "The words were not meant to be carved on shields and ignored."
While Asha played her part aboard Silence, Theon sat in Pyke's main hall with Ramsay Bolton.
"Most of the Iron Fleet captains still answer to you," Ramsay said. "The rest are noisy because noise costs less than blood."
"Asha still has captains."
"Fewer than she thinks. Dragonstone saw to that."
Theon looked at him. "When this is over, you will be the second most powerful man in the Iron Islands."
Ramsay smiled. "A tempting promise."
"Do not make me regret it."
"Never, Your Grace. Perhaps I can send you something fresh to ease your nerves tonight?"
Theon waved him away. "I need sleep, not your amusements."
The next morning, the captains gathered beneath Nagga's bones on Old Wyk.
The bones of the ancient sea dragon rose from the hill like pale stone, forty-four great ribs curving over the shore. The ironborn said the Grey King had slain Nagga and taken fire from the sea dragon's bones. Whether truth or boast, the place still held power over them.
Theon's earlier crowning near Lordsport had never carried this weight.
Euron arrived in smoke-black armor.
It was Valyrian steel, each scale edged in red gold and etched with runes. The metal was light as silk and dark as old smoke. The captains stared with open hunger before he even spoke.
Then his men opened chests of treasure.
Gold. Jewels. Valyrian steel daggers.
Last came the horn.
It was six feet long, black and banded in red gold, covered in glyphs that seemed to drink the light around them.
"Dragonbinder," Euron said. "I found it in the ruins of Valyria. With it, dragons answer."
A hush fell.
Euron raised his voice. "I know where three dragons wait. I know where kingdoms burn. Follow me, and the ironborn will no longer scrape at coastlines. We will take the world."
For a heartbeat, even the sea seemed to listen.
x
x
x
If you're enjoying the story so far, consider supporting me on Patreon ❤️
You'll get weekly early access to chapters, along with some exclusive content:
https://www.patreon.com/cw/TheDevotedReader