At midday, Gendry and Daenerys Targaryen stood on the high terrace of the courtyard at Dragonstone Castle, beneath Dragonmont. Above the courtyard, a quartered banner on a golden field fluttered in the wind.
The Storm, Gendry, was exceedingly tall, and the red jewel in the pommel of the Valyrian steel sword at his waist, The Solitary Maker, shone brilliantly. Daenerys Targaryen's silver-gold hair gleamed, while the dragons danced through the low sky.
The flames and heat of Dragonstone were well suited to the growth of dragons. Even if the dragons did not seek out caves within Dragonmont, they would still grow faster here than they would in an ordinary environment.
The dragons were now about the size of medium dogs. Balerion was the largest, followed by Vhagar and Viserion. When the dragons spread their wings, they seemed much larger, for a dragon's wingspan was generally three times the length of its body.
At this rate, the dragons will likely grow even faster, Gendry thought. The environment is right, and the training is stricter. These dragons were extraordinary to begin with, probably affected by the tides of magic. They are growing absurdly fast. Gendry had great confidence in his dragon-training plan.
In the original history, after roughly two years, the largest black dragon, Balerion, could grow to a wingspan of twenty feet, about 6.096 meters, with a body length around one-third of that, about 2.032 meters. If the dragons lived on Dragonstone, they would grow bigger and faster.
A dangerous tension hung in the courtyard air. Lothor Brune and the red-haired, freckle-faced Anguy each led a group of guards in black armor and gold cloaks, divided into three ranks. They were tall, strong men with well-built frames. Lothor commanded a group of eager spearmen, while Anguy led a group of well-trained crossbowmen.
Their spears and arrows were aimed at the dragons. Not to kill them, but to train them. The blunted steel heads of the spears and arrows had been specially treated, with paint-stained sandbags of equal weight fixed to the tips.
"Is this truly how dragons are trained?" Daenerys asked anxiously. Gendry was slowly increasing the intensity.
"The old books are not wrong, Daenerys," Gendry told her. War was a drill that shed blood, and drill was war without blood. When training dragons, there was no such thing as too hard. There was only harder.
"That is right," Maester Qyburn said with a nod. "In the past, the Targaryen dragons were trained for battle from birth. They endured countless tests of flying spears and arrows and were rarely harmed. A dragon's scales grow harder and harder. The scales of an adult dragon are tougher than steel. Even if a flying arrow occasionally pierces the scales, it rarely causes serious harm. But that is not absolute."
"Dragons are powerful, but killing one is not impossible. That is why they need even stricter training," Gendry said. The first step was arrows and spears. The second, harsher step would be scorpions.
"Mm." Daenerys nodded. She had heard those stories as well. "The silver dragon Meraxes, Quicksilver, and the dragons of the Dance of the Dragons." She remembered the names of those prides of House Targaryen.
The silver dragon Meraxes had been the first dragon to die. During the conquest of Dorne, a defender atop the highest tower of Hellholt had pulled the trigger of a scorpion, loosing an iron bolt one yard long that struck the right eye of the dragon beneath Queen Rhaenys Targaryen. As for the Dance of the Dragons, even more dragons had died.
Know yourself and your enemy, and you need not fear a hundred battles, Gendry thought. Whether against magical attacks or physical ones, dragons had to undergo training to resist blows. The troublesome dragonhorn also had to be taken into account.
"Are there books about dragons and the Dance of the Dragons?" Daenerys asked curiously.
"There may be, but too much time has passed. Such books may not be found on the market anymore. Still, I imagine those gray sheep at the Citadel must have conducted plenty of research on dragons. They simply do not make it public. For instance, Septon Barth's Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History. After Baelor the Blessed ascended the throne, he ordered all of Barth's works burned, so very little survives now."
"Septon Barth was Hand of the King during the reign of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator. Dragons were everywhere then, and Septon Barth observed them up close. His book must have been extremely valuable," Daenerys said regretfully.
"You are quite right, Princess," Maester Qyburn agreed. "Most books concerning dragons and the Dance of the Dragons involve magic. For various reasons, most have now been lost or sealed away."
"Mm." Gendry nodded as well.
There is one more, Gendry thought. There was a history of the Targaryen dynasty that recorded the Dance of the Dragons in clear detail: Fire and Blood: A History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros. That book was said to be hidden in a cellar deep within the Citadel.
"Shall we begin?" Maester Qyburn asked.
"Begin." Gendry nodded.
A horn sounded.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Anguy and Lothor Brune waved the banners in their hands, and across the broad courtyard, spears and arrows began to fly toward the dragons in the sky.
Spears came first, followed by a volley of crossbow bolts.
"Anguy, Lothor," Gendry commanded.
"Yes, my lord." The two also joined the attack. Anguy was a Chosen Archer, and Lothor was no poor fighter either. The arrows and javelins in their hands were the most dangerous.
The dragons danced in the wind. Black dragon, green dragon, white dragon. The dragons were like ships in the waves, swaying left and right as they spread their wings and soared. Blunted arrows and spears were flung into the air again and again. Some arrows burst into flame in dragonfire, while others were knocked down by the beating of dragon wings. Only the very few fired from the trickiest angles were difficult for the dragons to dodge. Balerion let out a low growl and narrowly avoided Anguy's arrow.
Balerion was the fiercest, cleverest, and wildest of them all. He dodged the rain of arrows, then climbed higher. Human voices faded below him, and spears and arrows fell away. Balerion rose with all his strength. Up, up, up, until he hung high above the courtyard. Vhagar and Viserion, a little slower to react, followed Balerion and avoided the attacks as well.
"Look at Balerion. He flies the fastest and highest," Daenerys said.
"Yes." Gendry followed the dragons' movements, watching how they flew and evaded the attacks.
Only after the dragon-training guards finished their assault did the dragons return to their masters a moment later. Vhagar returned to Daenerys, while Balerion and Viserion returned to Gendry.
"Next time, I want a more dangerous, more urgent attack from you," Gendry told them. As long as it did not kill them, push them as hard as possible. That was the standard of a true dragon tamer.
"Yes, Prince," Anguy and Lothor promised.
"The overall progress is good," Qyburn said. "Unless the attack strikes a dragon's eyes, the other parts matter little."
Gendry nodded. A dragon's weakness was its eyes, not its lower belly, as certain ancient stories claimed. From what he knew and what he had touched, the scales on a dragon's lower belly were just as thick as those on its back and flanks. Only the eyes were truly dangerous.
Training was over, which meant it was time for rewards.
Based on Gendry's observations, Balerion had performed best, followed by Vhagar, with Viserion last. The rewards had to follow that order.
Gendry picked up a piece of black salted meat from the small bowl in his hand. The dragons all looked over at once, staring hungrily at the meat.
"Hiss! Hiss!" The dragons could already hunt on their own now, but they still loved this game of fighting over food. On Dragonstone, they hunted sea fish, wild rabbits sent by House Massey, and goats from Sharp Point.
Vhagar spread her green wings and stirred the air, while Viserion's neck stretched back and forth with the movement of Gendry's hand, like a long milky-white snake.
"Balerion." Gendry picked out a piece of meat. "Dracarys." Then he tossed the black salted meat into the air. In High Valyrian, it meant dragonfire.
"Hiss! Hiss!" The black dragon moved faster than a cobra. Balerion roared and spat flame, a mingling of bright red, orange, and black. Before the meat could fall, it was already charred. Balerion rushed over with astonishing speed and caught the cooked meat between his black fangs.
Vhagar's head shot over as well, trying to steal the prize from Balerion's mouth. But the black dragon swallowed it in one gulp, raised his head, and shrieked. The smaller green dragon could only hiss in frustration.
"Vhagar!" Daenerys smiled and took out a piece of meat, tossing it to the green dragon. "Dracarys."
Vhagar breathed a jet of flame and stopped quarreling with the black dragon. Instead, she caught the cooked meat Daenerys had thrown and swallowed it down.
Then came Viserion. Gendry took hold of Viserion's tail and gave the pitiful-looking white dragon a piece of salted meat. The white dragon breathed fire, then ate the meat.
The two of them tossed the rest of the salted meat into the air according to how well the dragons had performed, and the dragons happily scrambled for it. Their struggle over food was more like a game.
Brienne of Tarth came over again, holding Gendry's black-scaled plate armor. The armor bore the emblems of dragon and stag: the crowned warhammer stag carved from black crystal, and the three-headed dragon carved from red crystal.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Thunderous drums sounded from Dragonstone's docks, echoing across the island. The Dragonstone fleet and the reinforcements from the Twin Cities fleet had assembled at the docks, forming their battle lines.
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