House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Chapter 137: Chapter 136 – Revenge (I)

“My prince, I don’t think it’s wise to attack Braavos directly.” Theomore couldn’t help but speak, watching the prince put on his gloves to mount the enormous dragon. After getting to know Maekar and seeing that he truly helped the city, he didn’t want anything to happen to such a good prince.

“Theomore.” Hearing the words of the Lord of New Castle, Maekar turned and asked in a calm tone. “How many people died in that attack?”

Theomore clenched his fists, not wanting to answer, but the number still left his lips. “Between three and six thousand, mostly civilians.”

Unlike the free cities, which had large populations, the same could not be said of the cities of Westeros. Even being one of the five largest cities on the continent, that was still a very high number. Especially knowing that the sack lasted only a few hours.

Showing that the soldiers of Braavos had focused on truly trying to destroy White Harbor.

“I did something similar in Myr, burning the center of the city. I probably killed ten thousand people, not counting how many the smoke killed,” Maekar said in a calm tone. “I didn’t feel much, since they were my enemies, but I don’t feel the same about your city’s losses.”

“That is the cycle of hatred that perpetuates itself in this world. I will simply do what’s necessary to avenge the dead.” Maekar said, grabbing the iron chains that held the saddle to the dragon, and began climbing toward the saddle.

“Just wait for the news, then spread word throughout the North that the death of their enemies came by fire and blood.” Maekar said in a calm tone as he settled into the saddle atop the dragon.

Theomore was not stupid; he looked at the prince and understood the implications behind Maekar’s words. In that moment, he saw another side of Maekar, that of a southern politician. Still, he remained silent and chose to ignore that fact.

No one was perfect. If the prince were perfect, he wouldn’t be a man, but a god. He was already satisfied that the prince seemed to truly care about the common people.

“Everyone will know of your deeds, Your Grace.” Lord Manderly spoke in a deep tone.

Maekar nodded and took the reins in both hands. Bahamut, without needing his rider’s orders, rose from the ground, towering far above all the houses around him. He looked like a monster waking from a long slumber.

Theomore looked at the gigantic dragon with awe and dread; it was truly incredible that humans were capable of controlling such beasts. Perhaps the gods thought Old Valyria was too powerful and decided to free the world from its cruel claws.

Lord Manderly certainly didn’t dare say what he was thinking; he didn’t want to be fed to the dragon. He had personally watched the dragon devour more than a thousand corpses as if they were eating fish.

Bahamut began to run and, in an instant, took flight toward the sky. He glided through the air gracefully and flapped his wings, picking up speed.

Theomore looked at the scene with a complicated expression, then at the bodies around him. “I just hope the prince returns safely.” The man murmured with a helpless expression. He truly didn’t want Maekar to attack Braavos directly. He had heard that the entire city was completely armed against dragons.

–

In King’s Landing.

Gael was reading a book when she heard someone knock on her door. Raising her head, she looked at the door and spoke in a calm tone. “Come in.”

As soon as her words sounded, Gael saw a servant wearing blue clothes with a white kerchief on her head. She approached and knelt before the princess. She placed her hand beneath her clothes, over her chest, and withdrew it, bringing out a small scroll wrapped in a red ribbon.

The princess recognized the ribbon; it was the ribbon used by the organization Maekar had created in the Riverlands. The Children of Blood. When she was at Harrenhal, she had been protected by the women of this organization at all times.

“An urgent message from the Golden Field.” The servant spoke in a respectful tone.

Gael took the scroll, untied the knot, and opened it. She looked at the contents and began to read. However, as she read the scroll’s contents, a cold expression appeared on the Targaryen princess’s face.

“The witch was found fleeing to the Westerlands through the Golden Field of House Strong.”

They were few words, but they were the words she had been waiting for for so long. Although the guilty party was the Faith of the Seven, it was that damned witch who had actually killed her son. She had expected her to flee, but she hadn’t expected her to flee through the Westerlands.

However, remembering that this region was Maekar’s enemy, Gael realized it was normal for the witch to flee through that place.

“I should have thought of that before.” Gael said, tearing the scroll with her fingers. Taking a deep breath, Gael looked at the woman before her and spoke in a calm tone. “Help me change my clothes; I’m going to ride Dreamfyre.”

The servant answered not with words but with actions. She soon undressed Gael and helped her put on riding clothes for the dragon. After dressing, the princess wasted no time and left the room with an indifferent expression but with intense eyes.

In the Great Hall, Jaehaerys received word that Gael had gone to the Dragonpit and that Dreamfyre had been seen flying toward the Riverlands. The king wore a thoughtful look but made no comment about his daughter’s departure from the capital.

“Send a raven to Stepstones; order Daemon to burn the port of Tyrosh and continue besieging the city until it begs for peace.” Jaehaerys said to Grand Maester Allar.

“As you command, Your Grace,” Allar said in a hoarse, aged tone; the man seemed much older than Jaehaerys himself. He looked as though he might die at any moment, which worried Jaehaerys a little.

Fortunately, the man merely seemed tired and slowly left the Great Hall, leaving Jaehaerys with only his Kingsguard.

With the Grand Maester gone, Jaehaerys rubbed his forehead, feeling his fatigue growing worse these past days. Even walking seemed harder than usual. This worried him a little, since he felt increasingly unwell.

But he couldn’t afford to fall ill right now, not while the war was happening. If he were to die at this moment, he had no doubt Viserys would follow him; it would be a brutal civil war between Maekar and Viserys. And, honestly, Viserys had no chance of winning at all.

Yes, Caraxes was formidable, but fighting against Bahamut and Dreamfyre, both large adult dragons, was something even that powerful dragon was incapable of doing. With Caraxes dead, Viserys would be completely defenseless against Maekar.

Letting out a sigh, Jaehaerys still felt angry that Viserys had failed to claim Vhagar. If Viserys had Vhagar, almost all of his problems would vanish as if they had never existed. Unfortunately, his grandson was more stubborn than his own father.

Letting out another sigh, Jaehaerys remarked in a helpless tone. “I’m too old for this shit. I should have simply retired and let Baelon succeed me; this wouldn’t have happened.”

Unfortunately, the arrow had already been set on the bow, and he could no longer turn back, not to mention his son was dead.

“The next generation is going to be chaos.” Jaehaerys murmured, feeling that he had worked so hard for nothing. He wanted a peaceful transfer of power, but it seemed that the more he tried to control things, the more they slipped out of control.

That feeling of watching all his work crumble left a lasting bitter taste in the king’s mouth. It was as if the world itself were telling him he had failed. Perhaps for an ordinary person that feeling wouldn’t be so strong, but for a king, it was terrible.

Letting out his fourth sigh, Jaehaerys set these thoughts aside and focused on his work. It had been months since he’d been consumed with the logistics of the war. House Redwyne’s poor fleet had never worked so hard in its life.

——

Read my other books:

House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard