Gendry and Daenerys walked together along the rugged, difficult path up Dragonmont. The eastern slope was even steeper, and it had once been home to the greatest number of dragons.
Gendry wore a black studded vest beneath a golden surcoat, with Orphan-Maker at his waist. Daenerys wore black and red velvet, since the white lion pelt of Heraq was not suited for walking mountain roads.
Ser Barristan Selmy, Brienne of Tarth, Lothor Brune, Anguy, Jon Snow, Dacey Mormont, and the others followed behind them.
With them was Jeyne, a fisher girl who knew Dragonmont's terrain best and was the most practical of their guides. She was an orphan, and the Onion Knight had once helped her, saving her from having to earn her living in brothels or inns.
Jeyne had black hair, brown eyes, and wheat-colored skin. She was thin, foul-mouthed, and fearless.
"Ser Davos wasn't wrong. I may not be a man, but I'm more capable than most men. I mend my own nets, catch my own fish, and drink wheat ale. As for Dragonmont's terrain, no one knows it better than I do," Jeyne told them.
When the girl had first seen Daenerys and the dragons, tears had filled her eyes, and she had refused gold dragons or any other reward. To many people of Dragonstone, the Targaryens were like gods. They still remembered Dragonstone's glorious days.
"Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!" The dragons accompanied them, circling and wheeling through the sky. Their heads stretched out like snakes, their wings beat the air, and smoke poured from their mouths.
The dragons did not fly too high, and their joy and excitement were clear.
"Dragonmont used to be their home. The children have come home," Daenerys said.
"Fire and smoke. This is the place magic dragons love most." Gendry nodded and held Daenerys's hand. Though she looked delicate, she was in truth a resilient girl. Even on Dragonmont's harsh paths, Daenerys did not shrink back, but kept going with them.
Gendry also thought of another possibility. Around the time the dragons had hatched, Daenerys's body had grown stronger as well. She had once told him about her dragon dreams. In the darkness, magic dragons watched her, and fire purified her.
"Are there any other volcanic lands like this in the Seven Kingdoms?" Gendry asked Ser Barristan.
Ser Barristan shook his head. "None that I know of. Volcanoes are rare in all the world. Apart from the Fourteen Flames, this may be the only place."
Magic dragons were priceless, and volcanic terrain, their natural habitat, was rare as well. After all these years, only the Fourteen Flames and Dragonstone were known, which was strange in itself.
"It was precisely because of this volcanic terrain that the Valyrian Dragonlords took Dragonstone as their forward base. Yet they never attacked Westeros. Perhaps they were wary of the magical powers beneath Westeros," Gendry thought.
Westeros had the Old Gods, the Drowned God, the Storm God, and the Others. If the Dragonlords had known of these strange and ancient powers, they would indeed have been more cautious. After all, the power of these gods far surpassed the water magic of the Rhoynar. Besides, Valyria's expansion had likely reached a certain limit.
"Before The Dance of the Dragons, six dragons nested on Dragonmont," their guide Jeyne said, as if reciting something she knew by heart. "Three riderless dragons, Vermithor, Silverwing, and Seasmoke, and three wild dragons, Sheepstealer, Cannibal, and Grey Ghost."
"I know their names. The Bronze Fury was the Old King's dragon. Silverwing belonged to the Good Queen," Daenerys said. Though she had lived a wandering life, she had still received a decent education.
Together, the group climbed higher up Dragonmont. Under Jeyne's guidance, they gradually found several smoking caves. Some were deep, hidden, and long, clearly former dragon lairs. Humans certainly could not go too far inside. At most, they could only enter a little way.
Gendry and his party explored many caves. The scent of fire and sulfur was unpleasant, and breathing too much of the smoke was harmful, filled as it was with sulfur. Yet the dragons grew even happier. They were born to love that smell.
"Is this Dragonglass?" In several man-made tunnels rather than dragon caves, Gendry saw traces of obsidian.
"Dragonglass, Prince. There's plenty of it. Lord Stannis knows too. The old tunnels beneath the volcano are full of obsidian," Jeyne said casually.
Gendry picked up a piece of obsidian. This was no ordinary stone. It seemed to have been granted some kind of magic, and it was a weapon against wights and Others. He suddenly thought that when he had sent Renly north, he should have sent some obsidian with him. But that was beyond reach now. He could only send another batch next time.
When they reached the higher reaches of Dragonmont, the terrain had become extremely unfriendly to people, high, hot, and perilous.
"This is the highest and most dangerous empty dragon lair," Jeyne said, pointing to a cave on Dragonmont's slope. This cave was more hidden than all the ones they had seen before, and far more dangerous. After being hollowed out, it lay closer to the volcanic magma. Only a powerful old dragon would dare live here.
"Which dragon's lair was this?" Gendry asked Jeyne.
"I'm not sure, but I suspect it belonged to Cannibal," Jeyne said. "Cannibal was the proudest and the most violent of them all."
"Cannibal. I've heard he was a terrifying dragon-eater with a savage temper." Daenerys looked at the dark, gloomy cave, where white smoke drifted in and out.
"Yes, Princess." Jeyne held back the fire in her lungs as she answered. "Back then, the largest and oldest wild dragon was Cannibal. He was named that because he feasted on the corpses of his own kind, and he would fly to other dragons' nests on Dragonstone to devour dragon eggs and newborn dragons. He was coal-black all over, with a pair of ghastly green eyes. But he hated humans most of all. No one ever tamed him."
Balerion was immersed in the scent of smoke and fire, and the magic dragon seemed utterly entranced. But Gendry's dragons were still too small. They could only come to Dragonmont to choose lairs after they grew larger.
"Let's go, Dany. We should head down," Gendry said to Daenerys. They had climbed long enough, and people could not stay too long amid the lingering fire and smoke.
"The little dragons can be raised in the courtyard for now. Once they're bigger, they can live here." Gendry looked once more at the deep, ancient dragon cave.
Daenerys nodded, and they returned the way they had come.
The magic dragons returned to their masters. Balerion and Viserion wrapped their tails around Gendry's arms and hung from his shoulders, their warmth like heated stones. Daenerys carried Vhagar, who looked like a green scarf around her.
"Jeyne, where did Cannibal go afterward?" Daenerys asked.
"Princess, that I don't know," Jeyne said. "After The Dance of the Dragons, only three old dragons remained. Sheepstealer disappeared with the girl Nettles, and people think he hid on Crackclaw Point or in the Mountains of the Moon. Cannibal still raged across the eastern slope of Dragonmont. As for Silverwing, she was said to have gone to Red Lake in The Reach to nest. What happened after that, no one knows. They may all have died of old age somewhere."
"The Dance of the Dragons." Daenerys carefully remembered those words. The Targaryens had once possessed many magic dragons, until they squandered them all in civil war.
"Kin slaying kin, sister and brother at war, and dragons fighting dragons," the old knight Ser Barristan said sadly. That had also marked the beginning of the dynasty's decline.
"All of this is inseparable from House Hightower and the High Tower," Gendry thought. It would be arrogance not to hold some hostility toward House Hightower, that hidden, ancient, immensely wealthy house.
On the way down Dragonmont, Gendry also saw ships on the sea. There were far fewer than before, but some still remained.
"I am grateful for your service, Jeyne. This is what you deserve." Daenerys prepared to give the guide some gifts.
"Prince Gendry, Princess Daenerys, I beg to serve you and witness the miracle of magic dragons returning to life in this world," Jeyne pleaded, kneeling on the ground.
"I would be glad to have you." Daenerys helped the fisher girl up. Jeyne had a vigorous life about her, and she was an orphan as well, which made Daenerys feel some kinship with her.
Gendry looked at Jeyne with interest. They truly did need such a guide.
"Thank you, Prince Gendry. Thank you, Princess Daenerys," Jeyne said again and again.
At the courtyard gate, they saw the red priestess once more.
"I sense fire and smoke on you, Your Highnesses. The Great Lord is in the Chamber of the Painted Table." The red priestess curtsied to Gendry and Daenerys, then drifted away.
Gendry escorted Daenerys back to her room. The girl from Tarth was now one of Daenerys's guards as well.
Then Gendry took Ser Barristan and the others to the Chamber of the Painted Table in the Stone Drum, where Great Lord Stannis was waiting.
The Stone Drum was Dragonstone's main keep. Whenever a storm approached, its ancient walls rumbled from within, giving it its name. The cells beneath the keep were hot and damp, and it was said that its passages and hidden ladders reached as far as the heart of Dragonmont. A high arched stone bridge connected the Stone Drum to the dungeon tower through the air.
"Prince, did you see the caves on Dragonmont?" Stannis asked.
The walls of the Chamber of the Painted Table were bleak and bare. Only the table, famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms, made Stannis seem even taller and colder.
"Yes, Uncle." Gendry nodded and walked to Dragonstone's high seat. Great Lord Stannis had arranged a smaller seat for himself and sat elsewhere. "The best dragon lair belonged to Cannibal, high on Dragonmont, but we have no use for it yet. The little dragons can stay in the courtyard for now."
"Even so, the Dragonkeepers should be prepared."
"Let Ser Barristan and Ser Davos take the lead," Gendry said. The old knight was one of those he relied on, and Ser Davos was outstandingly capable among Stannis's lords.
"That is the safest course."
"Then what remains is war. As for the supply route from the Twin Cities to Dragonstone, I have designed a sea route." Gendry pointed to the outline on the map. "Now that the Stormlands are secure, to guard against autumn storms, I will have the Twin Cities fleet set sail, skirt the Stepstones, then pass Cape Wrath. They can either land at Weeping Town or pass by Tarth."
Great Lord Stannis studied the map. He was an experienced old sailor. "It lengthens the distance, but the survival rate in storms will be higher."
"Uncle Stannis, we need to send letters to the lords. I intend to launch a major attack on both King's Landing and Lannisport in the Westerlands at the same time," Gendry said to Great Lord Stannis. "It is not only the Stormlands. We have complete control of the seas. For me to attack King's Landing now, and Lannisport as well, is very reasonable. As for splitting the army in two, a proud young man is always prone to thinking too highly of himself."
Stannis looked at Gendry. "And the bait?"
"For an ambush to look real, the bait must be real. This time, perhaps I should be the bait again," Stannis said calmly.
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