"I will restore the Iron Islands' freedom and return them to the Old Ways. No, I will bring you more. All of Westeros, and the Known world," Crow's Eye promised.
"We will begin with Oldtown, and with me winning the dragon and the true Dragon Queen."
"You boast even louder than Great King Dagon, Great King Quellon, or Harren the Black," Victarion said with a curl of his lip. His elder brother Balon was a great man, yet even he had never fulfilled the dream of the Old Ways.
Not even Great King Dagon Greyjoy a century ago had managed that.
In Great King Dagon's day, a weak scholar sat the Iron Throne, his wet, glistening eyes fixed only across the Narrow Sea, thinking only of guarding against those bastard Blackfyre kin and exiles plotting rebellion.
And so Great King Dagon of Pyke had run wild, turning the entire Sunset Sea into the domain of the Ironborn.
Dagon had reached deep into the lion's den and plucked the lion's whiskers, then tied knots in the Direwolf's tail. But even he, in the end, had been no match for the house of the Dragons.
Yet Crow's Eye wanted to capture the Stag's Queen and make her his wife.
"I do not merely boast louder than they did, little brother. I am stronger than they were. How much territory did Great King Quellon hold?
"It stretched across the whole western coast of Westeros, from the wine-rich Arbor in the south to the forested Bear Island in the north.
"But my appetite is greater than Great King Quellon's. I will defeat Robert's bastard at Oldtown and win the Iron Throne."
"Have you truly gone mad?" Victarion Greyjoy stared at Crow's Eye, Euron Greyjoy. Crow's Eye really meant to fight a grand battle.
Great King Quellon's pride had been this: "Wherever men can smell the sea or hear the waves, that is my domain."
But Crow's Eye was even greedier, and even madder.
Victarion admitted that the Targaryen girl might possess an inhuman beauty, and that her bloodline carried extraordinary meaning. She was the last blood of the Valyrian Dragonlords in the world, and the Targaryens had been the first dynasty to unite the Seven Kingdoms.
No Ironborn had ever entertained such a mad idea.
To face the lord of the Seven Kingdoms head-on, Lannister in the west aside, but with Myr and Tyrosh added, and steal away the Queen and the dragon.
"When I was a boy, I dreamed I could fly. But when I woke, I could not... or so the Maester said. Perhaps we can fly. All of us can fly. How would we ever know without leaping from the High Tower?"
"You truly are mad. The window is right there. You can jump."
"This world was made by madmen from the very beginning. No man knows what he can do until he falls." Crow's Eye laughed, his eyes blue, his lips blue. He truly looked like a madman.
"What you're doing is far too dangerous. Are you really planning to fight the Royal Fleet, the Twin Cities Fleet, and the Arbor Fleet near Oldtown or the Arbor?" Victarion questioned.
He would never forget the waters off Fair Isle, when the Iron Fleet had been surrounded and swallowed by the Royal Fleet and the Redwyne Fleet under Stannis and Paxter Redwyne.
"You aren't afraid, are you, little brother? One defeat, and you remember it for life," Crow's Eye mocked.
"But I am different. I am Balon's brother, the eldest surviving son at Quellon's knee. The blood of Great King Vickon and the 'Old Kraken' runs through my veins, and I have sailed farther than any ancestor before me.
"Among the living Kraken, only one has never tasted defeat. Only one has never bent the knee. Only one has gone to Asshai by the Shadow and witnessed wonders and terrors beyond imagination..."
"You... shut your mouth," Victarion growled. When it came to sharp tongues and pretty words, ten of him would not be enough to match Crow's Eye.
It was those beguiling words that Crow's Eye had used at the Kingsmoot to win the Ironborn's support and steal his throne.
"I am not afraid. I am being wise. You know any one of those fleets can match us in tonnage and draft, yet you want to swallow three at once in a head-on battle?" Victarion roared. "That is sending everyone to their deaths."
"Not three. Two great fleets," Crow's Eye corrected him.
"At most, there will only be two great fleets in the sea battle. The Iron Throne still needs one fleet to defend the eastern waters. And now you have the Iron Fleet, along with my support. I promise you, I can bring more."
"Little brother, think of our past. We are Ironborn by birth. We are ancient overlords. Once, our commands went unchallenged wherever the sound of waves could reach." Crow's Eye spoke with his blue lips, watching Victarion.
Victarion could not help feeling himself give way a little. Even as his enemy, he had to admit that Crow's Eye was a brilliant speaker.
"Will the Storm and the Stag really come? He could simply send his uncle Stannis," Victarion said doubtfully.
"A land battlefield and a sea battlefield are very different things, and they are separated by thousands upon thousands of miles. He may know how to ride a horse, but I doubt he is a good sailor. And I hear his dragon is only the size of a foal."
"He will come. In person, little brother." Crow's Eye smiled mysteriously.
"The more a man wins, the more he fears defeat. I know the Smith. He is a boy of ten and some years, a warrior who has won a hundred battles. But pride and refusal to yield are his weaknesses. Planning and deep consideration do not belong to that age.
"He will want to enjoy the glory of defeating a king himself, not hand it to his uncle."
Victarion did not agree. Anyone who understood the Storm knew he was not only skilled in battle, but also deeply calculating. That was why he had won every battle he fought.
Still, the reasoning was sound. Leading from the front was glorious, but dangerous.
"What do you want to do?"
"I mean to add another fire to Oldtown.
"The Old Lady and the Fat Man will surely beg the King for aid. The Tyroshi and Myrmen also cling to the Stag. The little king will have to send troops. If he does not, it means cowardice. It means he does not protect his lords."
"How will you make Oldtown burn? They have defenses."
"We have captured Tyroshi and Myrish ships. If we disguise ourselves as Tyroshi, I promise I can convince the people of Oldtown."
"Will that work?"
"Why wouldn't it?"
"But why should I go?" Victarion demanded at last.
"For love. For duty. For your king's command." Euron chuckled, then began painting him a grand picture.
"And for the Sea Stone Seat. Once I have the Iron Throne, it will be yours. You will sit the Sea Stone Seat after me, just as I came after Balon... and one day, your trueborn son will sit it too."
Because of Crow's Eye's humiliation, Victarion had never taken another wife.
Euron's gifts always carried poison, Victarion reminded himself. But... why not turn his own plan against him?
"Go on, little brother. Choose for yourself. Grow old like a king, or live like a thrall. Do you dare to fly? You will never know unless you jump." Crow's Eye's smiling eyes were full of mockery.
"Perhaps I have asked too much of you. Blowing the Dragon Horn and facing a great fleet head-on is always a fearsome thing."
"Go to hell. If need be, I can lead the Iron Fleet straight there myself." Victarion loosened his fist. His palm was covered in blood.
Victarion left with the Dragon Horn, looking back at Crow's Eye's pleased smile.
"I will find the dragon and the dragon woman. But not for you. For myself."
You took my wife. I will take yours. The most beautiful woman in the world, for me.
Crow's Eye watched his younger brother leave, then poured himself another cup of Shade of the Evening.
"Such a fine drink. A pity the man does not know how to appreciate it. And he has no time left to learn." Crow's Eye laughed.
Victarion was full of resentment. The mission would be completed, but his little brother would not return.
"What is Dagon? What is Quellon Hoare I? From now on, there will be only one king, one god."
...
The sea remained cold and fog-bound. An Oldtown patrol ship spotted a Tyroshi merchant ship approaching through the mist.
The Tyroshi had beards dyed in all sorts of bright colors, and their Tyroshi-accented dialect rang out in noisy shouts.
The oarmaster of the Lady of the Tower signaled, and the Tyroshi at the bow greeted him in return.
One of them was an especially handsome blue-bearded captain, though one of his eyes was covered by an eyepatch.