CHAPTER 105
On the vast Dothraki Sea near the lands of Lhazar in Essos, the red earth stretched endlessly beneath a barren sky. The land was dry and cracked, the grass sparse, and even firewood was difficult to gather.
Before the Red Comet had fully revealed itself to the world, Daenerys Targaryen ordered that her Sun and Stars be laid upon a great funeral pyre.
Her silver hair fluttered in the wind as she stood before Khal Drogo's prepared body.
Her eyes were filled with sorrow.
One by one, she personally placed Drogo's treasured possessions upon the pyre.
Finally, with extraordinary care, she set the three dragon eggs beside his head.
"Princess, Drogo will have no use for dragon eggs in the Night Lands."
Ser Jorah Mormont stepped beside her and lowered his voice.
"Why not sell them? The price of even one egg would provide enough wealth to support you for the rest of your life."
Daenerys shook her head.
"He did not give them to me to sell."
She glanced toward Jorah and asked softly.
"And why do you still call me Princess?"
"My brother Viserys was your king, was he not?"
Jorah nodded.
"He was."
A new light appeared in Daenerys's violet eyes.
Something within her seemed to harden and solidify.
"Viserys is dead."
"I am his heir."
"The last Targaryen."
"What belonged to him now belongs to me."
Jorah fell silent.
Then he slowly knelt on one knee.
"Yes, my Queen."
"I swear my loyalty to you."
"I will gladly give my life for yours."
"My sword is yours."
"My heart is yours."
"I swear that no one shall drag you back to Vaes Dothrak unless it is your own desire."
He looked up earnestly.
"My Queen, let him go."
"I know what you are planning."
"There is no need for you to do this."
"I must."
Daenerys gently touched his cheek.
"You do not understand."
Jorah's face tightened.
"No, I understand very well."
"You loved Khal Drogo."
"I once loved my wife just as deeply."
"When she died, I thought my own life had ended."
"But I did not follow her into death."
"You are my Queen."
"If you intend to climb onto that pyre, forgive me, but I cannot allow it."
"I will never stand aside and watch you burn."
Daenerys smiled faintly.
"Is that what worries you?"
She stepped forward and lightly kissed his forehead.
"Ser, I am not that foolish."
Jorah blinked in surprise.
"You do not intend to die with him?"
"My Queen, swear it."
Daenerys answered in the Common Tongue of Westeros.
"I swear."
At that moment, her bloodriders dragged forward Mirri Maz Duur.
The maegi remained calm despite her fate.
"Tie her to the pyre."
Daenerys's voice was cold.
The bloodriders obeyed immediately.
Then Daenerys personally poured scented oil over Mirri's head.
"You will never hear me scream."
Mirri spoke calmly.
"No."
Daenerys's eyes were icy.
"What I want is not your scream."
"I want your life."
She threw aside the flask.
"You once told me that only death may pay for life."
Mirri immediately fell silent.
Then Jogo approached carrying a torch.
"Khaleesi."
He offered it to her.
Daenerys accepted it and turned toward the pyre.
At that exact moment, she noticed something extraordinary.
Low in the eastern sky, a crimson comet blazed across the heavens.
Its fiery tail stretched behind it like the tail of a dragon.
"My sun and stars."
Daenerys whispered.
"The hour has come."
With tears in her eyes, she thrust the torch into the pyre.
The scented oil ignited instantly.
Flames exploded upward.
The entire pyre became an inferno.
The heat forced Ser Jorah and the Dothraki backward.
Only Daenerys remained unmoving.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."
"The blood of the dragon."
"Fire cannot kill a dragon."
Mirri's screams echoed from within the flames.
Daenerys walked forward.
The fire seemed to part around her.
The flames burned brighter and brighter.
Within the shifting blaze she suddenly thought she saw a distant figure.
A tall silhouette.
Red eyes glowing like embers.
At the same time she seemed to hear the wind whispering through the fire.
"Ga...ron..."
Daenerys instinctively stepped forward.
But before she could see clearly, the pyre collapsed with a deafening crash.
The flames continued through the night.
When dawn finally arrived and the ashes cooled enough to approach, Ser Jorah rushed forward desperately.
Then he stopped.
Frozen in disbelief.
Among the ashes and burned bones, Daenerys stood unharmed.
Naked.
Covered in soot.
Alive.
And around her were three living dragons.
The first dragons born into the world in nearly one hundred and fifty years.
One green and bronze.
One cream and gold.
And one black with red highlights.
The black dragon perched proudly upon her shoulder.
Its eyes glowed like burning coals.
Daenerys held the other two hatchlings gently in her arms.
The Dothraki stared in stunned silence.
Then one by one they fell to their knees.
"Blood of my blood!"
"Blood of my blood!"
Daenerys looked over them.
The black dragon hissed.
White smoke drifted from its nostrils.
Then all three dragons spread their translucent wings.
For the first time since the days of House Targaryen's dragons, their cries echoed beneath the dawn sky.
The age of dragons had returned.
At nearly the same moment across the Narrow Sea, another event was changing the fate of Westeros.
King's Landing.
The Great Sept of Baelor.
The Red Comet remained visible even in daylight.
Thousands gathered before the Great Sept.
Yet almost no one looked toward the heavens.
Their attention was fixed upon Eddard Stark.
The Lord of Winterfell looked worn and exhausted after weeks of imprisonment.
Yet he stood proudly.
Varys had assured him that Sansa and Arya were safe.
Thus his final fear had vanished.
Now only one purpose remained.
To reveal the truth.
To expose the false king.
Before the crowd, Ned raised his voice.
"I am Eddard Stark."
"Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King."
"Today I stand before gods and men to confess my crimes."
Smiles appeared on Cersei's and Joffrey's faces.
But Varys and Littlefinger exchanged troubled looks.
Something felt wrong.
Ned continued.
"I am guilty because I failed King Robert."
"I allowed the realm to fall into the hands of an incest-born bastard."
The crowd erupted instantly.
Joffrey's smile disappeared.
Cersei's face turned white.
Ned raised his voice higher.
"I am guilty because I failed to place Robert's true heir upon the Iron Throne according to the laws of succession."
Cersei finally screamed.
"Silence him!"
Ned struggled forward.
"The true king of Westeros is Ja..."
"Kill him!"
Joffrey shrieked.
"Ser Ilyn! Kill him now!"
Ilyn Payne stepped forward.
The Gold Cloaks forced Ned onto the execution block.
Yet even then Ned fought to continue.
"The true king is..."
The sword descended.
His head rolled across the marble.
Silence consumed the square.
Then chaos exploded.
The final words of Eddard Stark spread through King's Landing like wildfire.
Messengers, spies, and informants fled in every direction.
The Seven Kingdoms trembled.
Far away in the Riverlands, Tyrion Lannister was already racing toward King's Landing carrying Tywin's orders.
News had reached Harrenhal that Jaime Lannister had been defeated and captured by Robb Stark at the Whispering Wood.
Tywin wished to exchange Eddard Stark for Jaime.
To secure his son's safety.
Looking up at the Red Comet, Tyrion felt a chill.
"An ill omen."
He urged his horse onward.
"Hurry."
"We must reach King's Landing."
Not long afterward, Tyrion's party passed a group of Night's Watch recruits escorted by Yoren.
The black brother quickly displayed the banner of the Night's Watch.
Tyrion barely spared them a glance before riding onward.
Only after the Lannisters disappeared did Yoren relax.
Since Robert's death, Eddard Stark had secretly arranged for his children to be smuggled away.
Rickon had been sent by ship toward Dragonstone.
Arya had been hidden among Yoren's recruits.
Alongside another important fugitive.
Gendry.
Robert Baratheon's bastard son.
The boy whom Stannis had publicly declared Robert's lawful heir after exposing Joffrey's illegitimacy.
The same claim that had thrown the Seven Kingdoms into chaos.
Yoren sighed.
"The roads get more dangerous every day."
His eyes drifted toward the Red Comet.
"A bad sign."
Arya meanwhile poked Gendry with a grin.
"They're hunting you again, Your Grace."
Gendry groaned.
"They're hunting you too, Lady Stark."
The title still felt absurd.
One day he had been a blacksmith's apprentice.
The next he was being told that he carried royal blood.
Arya laughed.
Then her smile faded as she thought about her father.
Neither child noticed Jaqen H'ghar quietly studying Arya from the prisoner wagon.
"Interesting."
"Very interesting."
Meanwhile, on Dragonstone, Melisandre stood upon the beach watching the Red Comet blaze across the sky.
At her feet lay the remains of sacred fires.
Stannis Baratheon approached.
"You have watched it all night."
"What do you see?"
Melisandre smiled.
"Dragons have awakened."
"And your enemy in the North has begun to move."
Stannis frowned.
"The North?"
Melisandre nodded.
"The game has entered a new stage."
"You must prepare."
Stannis snorted.
"The first task remains the same."
"Renly must submit."
At that moment a servant arrived.
"Your Grace, Ser Davos has returned from White Harbor."
Stannis immediately headed back toward the castle.
Melisandre remained behind.
Watching the Red Comet.
Far to the north beyond the Wall's shadow, above the cold waters surrounding Skagos, the same crimson light crossed the sky.
Deep within a cavern littered with ancient bones, a massive black dragon slowly opened its eyes.
The beast stared at the comet.
Then it roared.
The sound shook the mountain.
Moments later it soared from its lair and descended upon a nearby Skagosi settlement.
Screams echoed through the darkness.
When the dragon finally returned, blood dripped from its jaws.
Among the survivors stood a young Skagosi chieftain wrapped in animal hides.
Hatred burned in his eyes.
He turned toward the tribe's elder.
"Elder."
"I have decided."
"I will go to Winterfell and seek the help of House Stark."
The old man wanted to protest.
Tradition demanded isolation.
Yet years of dragon attacks weighed heavily upon him.
Finally he sighed.
"Go."
"Tell the Starks."
"If they can help us subdue the dragon, then all twenty thousand Skagosi shall swear loyalty to Winterfell."
The young chieftain nodded.
Soon several boats departed Skagos and headed south.
As for their coming arrival, Garon Glover knew nothing.
Within Winterfell he was already preparing for the next battle.
His blade was being sharpened.
And his attention was fixed upon the Ironborn who still threatened the North.