"Attack!"
Victarion's face was savage as he led the Iron Fleet straight into the enemy ships. He was the first one to leap onto an enemy deck, swinging his axe like he had nothing left to lose.
The opposing fleet was a mess of New Ghis iron legions, Yunkai slave soldiers, and the Company of the Cat. The sellswords fought hard under their bearded captain, trading blows with the ironborn in brutal close combat.
"Dragonfire!" Daeron didn't hesitate. He drove Caraxes straight down.
The long red dragon twisted in the air above the enemy ships and poured a column of flame onto the deck below. One vessel caught instantly. Its mast cracked and toppled, nearly capsizing the whole ship.
"Shit! The dragon's here!"
The bearded captain of the Company of the Cat shouted in a thick Valyrian accent, ordering his men to scatter.
A second later Toothless swept in from the other side. Green fire washed over one of the sellsword ships.
Screams erupted. Men covered in dragonfire dove into the sea, but the flames wouldn't go out. They thrashed and burned at the same time, drowning while they roasted.
Daeron blew the dragonbone whistle and worked methodically with both dragons, setting ship after ship alight. Years of fighting had made him calm and efficient in the air.
Jaehaerys arrived soon after on Valar and joined the slaughter. The small fleet of a dozen ships broke apart and burned on the water off Cedar Island.
Daeron landed and found Victarion. "What started this fight?"
"He's dead."
Victarion's face was grim. He led Daeron to a stretch of blackened sand and pointed at the scorched marks. "Maron Greyjoy. My nephew. The one I trusted most. Killed by the New Ghis bastards."
Daeron understood immediately.
Maron had taken a catapult stone to the back during the last sea battle. His organs were crushed. He never woke up. Daeron had left a vial of life potion, but it hadn't been enough.
"Machiro tried everything," Victarion said quietly. "Nothing worked."
Victarion had always respected his father Quellon and his brother Balon. After Balon died by ironborn judgment, he had taken special care of Balon's children. Maron had been like a son to him.
"I'm sorry."
Daeron didn't offer empty words. He just gripped Victarion's shoulder and gave the big ironborn a moment of silence.
Victarion was a true ironborn. He pushed the grief down fast and asked, "Your Grace. How did things go in Qohor?"
"It's done," Daeron said.
On the flight back he had already taken the egg out and looked it over. It was a dull mud color with yellowish swirls, nothing special to look at. Just a big, dirty-looking stone.
But it still had life in it. It could hatch.
No surprise there. The warlocks and the Thirteen wouldn't have paid a fortune for a petrified egg.
"While you were gone the Smoking Sea stayed quiet," Victarion reported. "No useful news came out."
He explained why the Iron Fleet had kept fighting. Victarion had been avenging his nephew. He raided several New Ghis fishing villages and a few Yunkai ships, deliberately starting the war. When New Ghis and Yunkai sent a new fleet, he met them head-on instead of using the usual ironborn hit-and-run tactics.
Daeron had simply flown into the middle of it.
Victarion looked uncomfortable. "Your Grace, I started this fight on my own. I may have fucked up your plans."
Daeron actually respected him more for saying it.
Most ironborn were impossible to control. Even with Victarion as Governor of the Iron Islands, he could turn on the Iron Throne whenever he wanted. His lords could ignore him and raid on their own. But Victarion had kept them in line so far.
"You're not in trouble," Daeron said. "Even if you hadn't touched them, I was going to hit New Ghis anyway."
Victarion's eyes lit up. "Who are we hitting, Your Grace?"
"New Ghis."
Several days later.
New Ghis.
The slave masters gathered inside the Great Pyramid. Their chairs were arranged in a circle, each one inlaid with gold, silver, rubies, emeralds, and ivory to show off their wealth and status.
Alf was fuming in his seat. "Those filthy ironborn are getting cocky because they have Targaryen dragons. They actually raided New Ghis land. They need to be taught a lesson."
They had already lost half their iron legions and more than forty ships in the last battle. Now the ironborn were raiding their villages and causing real damage.
"I heard Dragon King Daeron left the Summer Sea," said Jose, one of the big slave masters and a war hawk. "Those ironborn are just stray dogs without a master now."
Not everyone wanted war.
A fat middle-aged slave master gripped his staff and suggested, "Ironborn are just wandering pirates. We should do what the Free Cities do with the Dothraki. Throw them some gold and food and make them fuck off."
War was stupid.
The Free Cities paid the Dothraki khals tribute and called it gifts from the weak to the strong. In reality it was just buying peace.
"Pay the ironborn after they raided us?" Jose sneered. "We carry the blood of Old Ghis. We are the descendants of the harpies. We don't grovel like that."
The room went quiet.
Old Ghis had been ancient and powerful. It had resisted the Valyrian dragonlords for decades and fought two massive wars before it was finally destroyed by dragonfire and salt. In terms of stubbornness, the Ghiscari were on par with the Rhoynar.
But the fat master glanced at Jose's pale face and decided to keep his mouth shut. Real pureblood Ghiscari didn't look that white.
"If we fight the ironborn we have Yunkai's support," someone said. "But what happens when the Targaryen Dragon King comes back?"
Dragons made naval warfare terrifying. They had already lost half their army once. Another defeat would break them.
"House Targaryen is busy conquering Tyrosh and staring down the Triarchy," Jose said. "Their real focus isn't on New Ghis thousands of miles away. As long as they don't land troops here, we can afford to lose some soldiers."
The ironborn themselves? Two or three thousand undisciplined raiders. They could pillage villages, sure. But taking and holding a city? Laughable.
The slave masters felt safe. They believed Targaryen victories only came from open battles, not from threatening New Ghis itself. If Daeron tried a real invasion it would just give the Triarchy an opening and drag Westeros into a multi-front war.
They reached an agreement.
Jose spoke with confidence. "We should reach out to the Great Masters in Meereen. There are rumors all over the Smoking Sea. This could be the moment for Slaver's Bay to rise."
Bang bang bang!
Urgent knocking came from outside.
Jose snapped, "What the fuck do you want? We're in a meeting!"
A slave dropped to his knees in the doorway, voice shaking. "My lords… the ironborn fleet is here again."
"Let them come," Jose said angrily. "The iron legions will handle them."
Alf caught something off. "If their ships are already here, where's the fleet we sent out? Why didn't they stop them?"
"They're gone," the slave whispered. "The iron legions' fleet was destroyed. There are three dragons flying over the ironborn ships. Two of them are heading straight for the Great Pyramid."
The words hit like lightning.
The fat master shot to his feet with surprising speed for his size. "The Targaryen dragons are here. I'm going back to my pyramid to hide."
The meeting dissolved into panic. The slave masters scattered, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the Great Pyramid.
At the same time, Daeron flew Caraxes high above the towering pyramid and looked it over.
"New Ghis's pyramid…"
He studied it for a moment, then gave his verdict. "Not as nice as Qohor's."
Qohor's step pyramids were covered in green plants, trees, and colorful silk banners. They looked like giant colorful tents from a distance.
New Ghis's pyramid was bare and weathered, the yellow brick showing through the sand damage. It was ugly.
"Once we take New Ghis, this pyramid can serve as temporary quarters."
Daeron didn't mind the look. Below him, slave soldiers were gathering, waiting to be wiped out.
New objective: Occupy New Ghis.
Two reasons. First, show some teeth, avenge the ironborn, and make Slaver's Bay understand that House Targaryen remembered every slight. Second, Cedar Island was too close to the Smoking Sea. It wasn't a good long-term base for the ironborn.
New Ghis sat at a safe distance from the Smoking Sea but still inside Slaver's Bay. It was the perfect soft target.
"If the Smoking Sea explodes, Cedar Island gets swallowed by the waves. New Ghis should be safe."
Daeron had decided. He was taking it.
He didn't need to keep it forever. Just long enough to make his point, then pull the ironborn out once the Smoking Sea situation was handled.
New Ghis was in the same position as Qohor — far from Westeros and with no real way to fight dragons. Daeron could hit it and they couldn't hit back.
"Loose!"
Arrows suddenly filled the air below. Ranks of slave archers fired upward at the red dragon.
Daeron laughed. "Dragonfire, Caraxes."
Caraxes breathed and turned the entire volley into ash before it could reach them. The burning scraps drifted down onto the slave soldiers' heads.
Coughing and panicked, the soldiers scattered and tried to switch to ambush tactics.
"Boring."
Daeron didn't feel like dragging it out. He flew low around the pyramid and burned every group of slave soldiers he saw.
Screams filled the air.
On the other side, Victarion and the ironborn stormed the port and crashed straight into the remaining iron legions defending the city. Jaehaerys supported them from above on Valar, burning arrow towers and catapults so the fleet could land safely.
Two dragonriders.
One hit the inner city and threw the defenders into chaos.
The other led the ground assault and broke the outer defenses.
New Ghis wasn't as large or well-defended as Meereen, Yunkai, or Astapor. Their numbers were limited. They started falling back fast.
By evening, Daeron had taken the Great Pyramid. Two ironborn lords dragged the captured master of the city in front of him for judgment.
"Your Grace, the inner district and the eastern district are secured. Only the poorer western district is still resisting."
Jaehaerys arrived quickly with the report.
Daeron waved a hand. "Tell Victarion he can loot the slave masters in the inner district and the rich merchants in the east however he wants. Leave the commoners and slaves in the west alone. Let them be."
Slave masters and rich merchants in a slave city getting robbed was just karma. No sympathy needed.
Commoners and slaves were the weak ones. Robbing them wouldn't yield much and would only create more corpses.
Daeron preferred to keep things clean. He didn't like killing people who hadn't done anything.
"Understood."
Jaehaerys turned to leave, glancing once at the bound slave master on the floor.
"Mmgh! Mmgh!"
Jose's hands were tied behind his back. He was on his knees with a salt-crusted rag stuffed in his mouth. His eyes were wide with fear and rage.
"Bring him here," Daeron said.
The two ironborn lords dragged Jose forward.
"Mmgh! Mmgh!"
Jose shook his head violently at Daeron, looking like a rabid dog that had never seen a vet.
"Take the rag out."
Daeron wanted answers. The ironborn pulled the gag free.
Jose gasped for air, jaw clicking painfully. He sucked in deep breaths like he had almost suffocated.
Daeron stepped closer and looked down at him.
"New Ghis doesn't have the strength to stand against House Targaryen on its own. So who's pulling your strings? The Black Wall nobles in Volantis? Or…"
Jose's face twitched. Something flickered in his eyes.
"Or one of the hidden Great Masters in Meereen?"
Daeron's gaze was steady. He was very close to naming names.