" Your Grace, I hope this satisfies you. Qohor has shown its sincerity."
Wendro swallowed hard and stepped forward to speak.
Daeron was satisfied. He smiled. "I have my dragon egg back. Qohor will always be a friend to the Iron Throne."
"It is our honor."
Wendro relaxed, a smile breaking across his face.
They exchanged polite words and moved into the Palace of a Thousand Thrones for a meeting.
Only six or seven royals remained. The rest had fled.
Masos noticed Daeron's look and explained. "They heard about the greyscale and sailed for their estates outside the city to hide."
"I understand."
Daeron didn't mock them. He spoke honestly. "This outbreak looks bad. It's probably already hit Yi Ti. Qohor needs to lock down hard if you want to keep it out."
Masos and the others glanced at each other. They could tell Daeron actually knew what he was talking about when it came to ruling. They asked for his advice.
The Qohorik royals were good at two things: making money and throwing their weight around.
Coming up with a real plan against greyscale was harder than getting blood from a stone.
Daeron gave them practical advice anyway — both for the realm's sake and his own.
After a while, Masos thumped his chest. "Don't worry. We'll send word to the royal fleet right away. We'll seal the passage at the Jade Gate and check every ship. Nothing carrying greyscale gets into Qohor."
They would use wood ash and salt water to disinfect the whole city.
Qohor would stay half-closed until the threat passed.
When the meeting ended, Daeron stayed one more night in the palace.
The next morning he said he was leaving.
Masos tried hard to keep him. He offered several of his sisters for marriage alliances.
Daeron asked Jaehaerys quietly, then turned him down.
Masos didn't give up. "Your Grace, you removed a major threat for us. I'll personally gift you three large ships loaded with saffron, cinnamon, and silk as thanks for helping Qohor."
In Qohor and Yi Ti those spices and silks weren't that expensive.
But once they reached the shores of the Narrow Sea — especially Westeros — they would sell for a fortune.
Spices and silk were gold to the lords of the Seven Kingdoms.
The famous Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, had spent everything he had in Qohor on one of his voyages. He bought over twenty ships and filled them with spices, silk, and elephants. Even after losing some ships in the Summer Sea, the rest made House Velaryon as rich as the Lannisters and Hightowers.
Give and take.
Daeron said, "When I get back to King's Landing I'll send an envoy with gifts in return."
He already knew what he would send.
Several casks of pumpkin wine and a chest of special wool fabric from the farm sheep. The fabric felt like silk but was tougher, stayed clean longer, and had never been sold on the open market.
It was both a return gift and a quiet show of wealth.
"Far friends, close enemies," as the saying went.
Qohor was far away. It could be a useful trading partner.
"Friends are always better than enemies."
"I'll be waiting for good news then."
Masos smiled wide. He was clearly happy with how this had turned out.
Before Daeron left, Masos pulled him aside. "The seller who sold Zaro the dragon egg was apparently one of the Great Masters in Meereen. His family was short on coin or had some other reason and sold it quietly."
"A Great Master from Meereen?"
Daeron filed it away.
Of the three slave cities in Slaver's Bay, Meereen had the biggest population and strongest military. It was quietly becoming the leader.
Lately the slave cities had been raiding the Stepstones. They hadn't gotten many special gems, but they had taken a lot of slaves and made a fortune.
"This trip back to Slaver's Bay is the perfect time to test Meereen's intentions."
Daeron already had a target in mind for making an example.
After final goodbyes, Daeron and Jaehaerys flew away on their dragons.
On the way back, Jaehaerys grinned. "Brother, once we're back in Slaver's Bay we'll probably be stuck there for a while. I wonder how Viserys is doing."
They had been gone from King's Landing for almost a month.
If Viserys had actually started trying, there should have been some news by now.
Daeron stayed quiet for a second. He suddenly felt less confident.
The kid wasn't a threat to his power, but he could still make Daeron look like a complete failure as a teacher.
"I think… he's not a coward."
Daeron said it quietly.
Dragonstone.
At the foot of the towering Dragonmont.
"You bastard, I have true dragon blood. I'm not a coward!"
Viserys was on his hands and knees, face bruised and swollen. He lifted his head and shouted at the young green dragon in front of him.
The green dragon was curled up, head resting on its tail, looking bored. It yawned.
Its scales were deep green, wing membranes pale, horns and claws bright like copper. It looked strong and fast.
Roughly sixteen to eighteen meters long — almost a young adult.
The way it looked at Viserys said it thought he was pathetic.
"Fine!"
Viserys struggled to his feet and drew his sword. He pointed it at the dragon. "You either let me ride you or nobody eats dinner tonight."
The green dragon turned its head. It slowly stood, spreading its wide wings as it moved closer. The pressure was intense.
You don't eat dinner? Fine.
My dinner is standing right in front of me.
Viserys's face went white. His tough act cracked. His hands and legs started shaking. "I — I have true dragon blood. I'm not scared of you."
The next second the dragon lunged forward with a deafening roar, mouth wide open.
Thud.
Viserys's eyes rolled back. He dropped like a stone and hit his head on the ground, out cold.
The green dragon stopped, sniffed the unconscious silver-haired boy, then gave him a look of pure contempt. It turned and started to walk away.
If the boy didn't smell like the one who hatched it, it would have already burned him.
"Wait — wait a second."
The voice came from behind, still stubborn.
The dragon looked back, opened its mouth again, and let out a blast of hot, sulfur-smelling breath that stung Viserys's skin.
Viserys's face was twisted in fear. Tears were starting to form. He looked ready to cry.
But he didn't stay down. He raised one hand.
"Calm down, Alex!"
Viserys shouted it with everything he had — desperate and determined at the same time.
The green dragon paused. It tilted its head, not understanding the name.
This wild dragon had never been properly named.
"Back up!"
Viserys waited. When the dragon didn't try to eat him, he gave the command in High Valyrian, telling it to keep its distance.
The dragon's amber eyes studied him for a long time.
Finally it moved closer and gently pressed its scaled snout against his raised hand, breathing out a warm gust of air.
Viserys yanked his hand back when it burned. "Idiot, that's hot!"
The dragon bared its teeth and moved like it was going to bite.
Viserys immediately backed down. "No no no — Alex!"
He leaned away from the hot breath and reached out again, this time accidentally touching one of the dragon's dark, iron-hard teeth.
The dragon shook its head like it was done with him and started crawling forward again.
"Stop, Alex!"
Viserys panicked. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his fallen sword, and stumbled after the dragon.
He wasn't leaving the sword behind. A good blade was worth dozens of gold dragons.
The dragon crawled a short distance, found a tall rock, and stopped. It lowered its body so its back was level with the stone.
It looked like it was offering him a ride.
Viserys's eyes lit up. "Haha, yes!"
He sheathed the sword, climbed onto the rock, and hauled himself onto the dragon's back.
The scales were hard and hot, rough like raw iron.
Viserys didn't care. All he felt was pride. He patted the dragon's back happily. "When I take you back to King's Landing I'll find Ser Owen. That fat old man can get anything. We'll get you the best, prettiest dragon saddle there is."
The green dragon made a sound like it understood. It stood up, spread its powerful wings, took a short run, and launched into the air.
Viserys: "Aaaah!!"
The dragon flew low along the base of the Dragonmont, then reached the eastern cliffs and suddenly folded its wings, dropping straight down.
Just before it hit the water it snapped its wings open and leveled out, one wingtip cutting through the waves as it flew out to sea.
Viserys was flat on the dragon's back, arms wrapped tight around its neck, brain completely blank.
He had completely forgotten he was supposed to be helping his brothers in the Triarchy.
Slaver's Bay.
After several days of flight, Daeron returned to Cedar Island and saw two fleets fighting hard on the water.
"New Ghis again?"
Daeron spotted the flags on the enemy masts immediately.
Well, that worked out nicely.
The perfect target for making an example had just delivered itself.