Shortly after Hidolf's departure, the horizon filled with the crimson sails of the West. Ser Loren disembarked under the fluttering Golden Lion of House Lannister, leading a disciplined contingent of knights and sailors. But it was the massive iron cage, draped in heavy black velvet and hoisted by a dozen straining men, that drew every eye on the docks.
Aegon walked down to the pier to personally receive the Westermen. "Ser Loren," Aegon greeted, eyeing the mysterious cargo. "A fine fleet you've brought. But what is under the shroud?"
"A token from Lord Jason Lannister, Your Highness," Loren said, signaling the sailors.
With a sharp tug, the cloth fell away. Inside, a magnificent lion with a massive, shimmering golden mane let out a low, vibrating growl.
"One of the finest beasts in the West," Loren beamed. "His Lordship felt its golden mane was a fitting match for the rider of the Sunbeam."
Aegon's lips quirked. While the lion was impressive, it was a housecat compared to the fifty-meter golden majesty of Sunfyre. However, Aegon was a politician first. He flashed a brilliant smile. "I had heard Lord Jason kept two such kings—one black, one gold. This is a princely gift indeed. And fifteen warships to boot? The West is generous."
"Actually, Your Highness," Loren corrected, "the Lord has authorized you to keep twenty of our largest cargo cogs for a full year. The subsequent waves of conscripts must return to Lannisport, but these hulls are yours to command."
Aegon was stunned. He had been worrying about how to ferry thousands of people from the coast of Essos, and Jason Lannister had just handed him a merchant navy. "Ser Loren, you have no idea how timely this is. Stepstones is short-staffed—desperately so. I have a civilization to build, and I intend to take the builders from the Triarchy."
Loren's brow furrowed. "The Triarchy? They are greedy vipers, Your Highness. Are you suggesting we buy from them?"
"I'm not buying citizens," Aegon laughed. "I'm taking their slaves."
Loren's face went pale. "Your Highness... the slave trade is a black mark. If the Princess and the Black Party hear you are trafficking in flesh, they will use it to strip your titles."
"Who said anything about trade?" Aegon's eyes danced with mischief. "The slaves on Tyrosh are rebelling. If they aren't in collars, they aren't slaves—they are 'refugees' fleeing a war zone. I am merely a benevolent Lord providing transport and asylum for displaced persons."
Loren stared at him for a long beat, the sheer audacity of the semantic trick sinking in. "Absurd... and yet, legally flawless. If no gold changes hands, it isn't trade. It's a rescue mission. The Lannister fleet is at your disposal, Your Highness."
That evening, as the welcome feast began, Kraken Hightower entered the pavilion, his face grim. He handed Aegon a sealed scroll. Aegon scanned it, his laughter echoing through the tent, though his eyes remained sharp.
"The Triarchy isn't entirely composed of idiots," Aegon remarked, tossing the letter onto the table.
The Triarchy had officially declared war—but specifically on Egon Targaryen, not the Seven Kingdoms. It was a surgical move to prevent Viserys from being forced into a total mobilization of Westeros. More dangerously, they had painted Aegon with two labels:
The New Valyrian: They claimed Aegon was the vanguard of a secret Targaryen plot to rebuild the Valyrian Empire and enslave Essos.
The Abolitionist Threat: They accused Aegon of being the secret hand behind the Tyrosh revolt, intending to destroy the economy of every Free City by forcibly ending slavery.
"They're trying to scare the Free Cities into a coalition," Kraken warned. "If Volantis joins them—the 'Eldest Daughter of Valyria'—we'll be facing the Mistress of the Summer Sea. They have no dragons, but they have endless gold and millions of slave soldiers."
Loren Lannister scoffed. "Let them come. What are slave soldiers against dragonfire?"
"Fire wins battles, Ser Loren, but it doesn't build cities," Kraken countered. "We want a prosperous fief, not a graveyard. If they send thousands of suicide ships equipped with scorpions, we will be harassed into poverty."
Aegon raised a hand, silencing the debate. "Kraken is right to be cautious, but the Triarchy has played into my hand. By labeling me the 'liberator' of Tyrosh, they've given every slave in the Disputed Lands a reason to look toward the Stepstones as their North Star."
He looked out toward the dark sea. "In two days, the Lannister cogs sail for Tyrosh. We aren't bringing back cargo. We're bringing back a population. Once I have a hundred thousand 'refugees' who owe their lives to me, it won't matter if the Free Cities unite. I won't just have dragons—I'll have an army that fights for the man who broke their chains."
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