The Chamber of the Painted Table on Dragonstone, where Gendry was, was a spacious circular room with unadorned walls of black stone. Four tall, narrow windows faced the four directions: east, west, south, and north.
The hall's most famous feature was the massive, irregular table Aegon the Conqueror had built before the War of Conquest, shaped after the continent of Westeros. The Painted Table was more than fifty feet long, about twenty-five feet across at its widest point, and less than four feet at its narrowest. After three hundred years, its surface gleamed with a bright, well-worn patina.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
Gendry rose, drew back the heavy velvet curtains, and opened the four windows one after another. Wind rushed in, heavy with the salt smell of the sea, stirring his plain golden cloak.
The sea breeze howled through the room. Flames whirled and leapt in the hearth, and the wood crackled loudly.
Gendry could also see the stone dragons on the walls of Dragonstone, casting enormous black shadows. They were sculptures, cold, dead, and lifeless. These were the stone dragons the red priestess had spoken of. In Gendry's view, awakening them through sacrifices of flesh and blood would only turn them into single-use expendables, not true dragons born of Fire and Blood.
There were dragons in the Chamber of the Painted Table too: the black dragon Balerion, the green dragon Vhagar, and the white dragon Viserion. The three young dragons, each as large as a small foal, chased one another around the hall, moving with the wind. They circled through the Chamber of the Painted Table, bringing with them the scent of fire and brimstone.
Perhaps they would be far more terrifying once they grew to the size of full-grown foals, but at their current size, these dragons still could not carry riders. Dragons weighed less than other animals of the same build, but they still needed to be larger before they could bear a Dragonrider.
"If the three dragon eggs Prince Gendry found deep within Dragonmont can hatch as well, we will have six dragons," Ser Barristan said. "Though you truly are like the late King, tireless beyond measure."
"It is truly incredible. I never imagined there would still be viable dragon eggs left inside Dragonmont. Fossilized dragon eggs are already worth a fortune, but these eggs are priceless," Maester Qyburn said with a sigh. "And yet they were buried deep inside the volcano, absorbing the greatest heat, and still no young dragons hatched from them."
"They were only dragon eggs we happened to find in the depths of Dragonmont. Without all those hardships and twists of fate, we never would have obtained them. A welcome surprise, nothing more. Our most urgent task is still to find House Targaryen's dragon egg vault, whether what lies inside are eggs or fossils," Gendry said.
Ser Barristan thought for a moment, then said, "The Targaryen dragon eggs did indeed vanish without a trace. All I know is that those dragon eggs were always well protected, and legend says they were hidden deep within Dragonstone. Over time, some may even have turned to stone. But the secret of the dragon egg vault may have been known only to the kings of each generation." Among those alive today, the person who knew the Targaryens best was likely Ser Barristan, the most senior of the white knights.
"So only Aerys and Rhaegar, father and son, knew about the dragon eggs?" Gendry asked, puzzled.
"I suspect so, but they left not the slightest hint behind. The later Queen, and Viserys and his sister, knew nothing of it. In the earliest days, however, the royal family certainly would not have lacked dragon eggs. At Summerhall, the king used several carefully chosen eggs with the greatest vitality, though of course, it failed in the end." Ser Barristan thought back to those years. In truth, Rhaegar and Aerys had had a very poor relationship. "Prince Rhaegar may not have known either. After the Defiance of Duskendale, Aerys refused to trust anyone. After his marriage, Rhaegar returned directly to Dragonstone to live there, rather than remaining at the Red Keep as he does now. And the king's favorites once proposed disinheriting Rhaegar and naming Viserys heir prince."
"Then it seems our three dragon eggs really were an accident. The greatest secret disappeared with Aerys's death." Gendry sat on the raised platform seat, from which the entire tabletop could be seen at a glance. By careful design, the seat corresponded precisely to Dragonstone beyond the sea.
Balerion suddenly swooped down and landed on Gendry's lap. The other two little dragons also descended, still chasing each other as they came down.
"For now, we should protect the dragons and dragon eggs we already have," Ser Barristan said.
"Your three dragon eggs are with Princess Daenerys, Prince, and the Princess is taking good care of them," Qyburn replied.
"Yes." Gendry nodded. "They are living dragon eggs. She hopes they can hatch in the brazier, but I feel it will be very difficult."
"Times have changed," Ser Barristan said. "Dragons vanished a hundred and fifty years ago. The arts of dragon-training and Dragonbond have now been lost, and even the few extremely rare books that remain are hard to find. Even House Targaryen knows very little, and Princess Daenerys knows even less."
Gendry and Daenerys were now learning Dragonbond from scratch, and what they knew was still fragmentary. Gendry, however, knew a little more, and the Firemaster's ring that allowed him to control flame also helped him control and protect the dragons.
"As far as I know, there are still some books, but I fear they are all locked away in the cellars of the Citadel. Brother Barth's Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History, Fire and Blood, Maester Thomax's The Dragonlords: House Targaryen's Journey from Exile to Deification, with a Discussion on the Life and Death of Dragons, and others," Qyburn said, looking at the white knight.
"Contentment is a virtue, but man is never content," Gendry sighed. He had three dragons and three dragon eggs, treasures without equal in all the world. Yet what he longed for most now was the Dragon Egg Treasury, House Targaryen's hoard accumulated over generations.
"There will be a chance to see it. Perhaps after your Golden Coronation and wedding to the Princess, the gods will grant you these gifts," Ser Barristan said. "Great Lord Stannis and Great Lord Eddard are handling the matter, making sure the Dragonpit is fit to hold the ceremony."
"I hope so too." Gendry nodded. In this chaotic age, a wedding represented hope, yet somehow it always seemed to carry some strange danger with it.
"There is one more thing I must remind you of. Marriage represents affection and vows, not only between two young people, but between two houses. During that False Spring, a dynasty was overturned because of several laughing marriages," Ser Barristan said in a low voice. "Many lords are now in King's Landing, and they are in close contact. By rights, some marriages should be arranged or blessed by the new Queen. You must also pay attention to the movements around their marriages."
Gendry laughed. "A wise man would not be so impatient. He would wait until after my coronation, then seek that grace from the king and Queen, rather than acting on his own. In any case, I thank you for the reminder."
Ser Barristan was a simple knight by nature, originally far removed from intrigues, lies, and traps. But age brings experience, and when it came to political and historical knowledge, Ser Barristan was unmatched.
The exchange of interests between lords lay in marriage alliances and the raising of foster sons and squires, circles formed to support one another. But such alliances were only the basics. What truly mattered was their performance and support on the battlefield. House Tyrell had married into House Hightower, but the Hightower had always stayed aloof.
Gendry stood and poured warm lemonade for the two veterans, the knight and the maester.
"In the Seven Kingdoms today, House Stark, House Arryn, House Tyrell, House Tully, House Martell, and others all have young, unmarried children," Gendry said.
"A suitable love benefits everyone, but the wrong love can cost tens of thousands of people their lives. Just like Prince Rhaenys and Jeyne of the Wildlings, Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna..." Ser Barristan said bitterly, his memories as sharp as the taste of lemon.
"Aside from us old men bitterly discussing love and romance, I have prepared this for you." Maester Qyburn handed over a book. "This is my own great work, Bloodline and Faith: A Study of Magic in the Known World. I have already finished writing it."
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