Chapter 34: Weel City
Vermithor carefully completed the carving of the main tower, circled it once with satisfaction, and then landed inside the Dragonpit he had blasted open with dragonfire. Unlike a traditional castle that required careful stonework and months of labor, this structure was habitable the moment the dragonfire cooled.
Dragonzel observed the Dragonpit with approval. It was vast, suffused with intense, heated magical currents, and more importantly, directly linked to the dormant magical veins within the Red Mountains. In simpler terms, it functioned like a living volcano shaped by deliberate design. Though the fiery essence within was not overwhelming, it was steady and enduring.
Silverwing had already established a nest for herself and Vermithor deep within the cavern, and even arranged a smaller one nearby. If the remaining four dragon eggs were not still as hard as stone, Dragonzel suspected she might attempt to convey her desire for them to Valarr. Of course, no one could truly confirm a dragon's gender, nor whether dragons possessed maternal instinct in the manner of beasts.
"Brother, I've heard that many lords from the Borderlands and the Stormlands have come to the camp recently to eat and drink at our expense. Are we going to allow that?" Valarr asked.
"As long as they commit no crimes, let them be," Dragonzel replied calmly.
He accepted a scale-cleaning tool from the guards stationed inside the Dragonpit and began brushing the dust and stone fragments from Vermithor's bronze scales. These guards were not the Targaryen Dragonkeepers of King's Landing. They were hereditary retainers of House Varezes, families that had served for generations. Since Dragonzel's birth, they had consumed controlled draughts infused with blood magic, strengthening loyalty and resilience. The dragons bonded to House Varezes ignored their presence entirely.
Their quarters were located deep within the Dragonpit complex, linked directly to the inner fortress. Simple stone dwellings had already been completed there.
Vermithor released a deep, contented rumble and lowered his massive head so Dragonzel could reach more of his armored hide. The Bronze Fury was enormous; without assistance, many sections would remain unreachable.
Valarr, meanwhile, tended to Silverwing. Though he did not fully grasp the deeper political implications of their growing power, he trusted Dragonzel's judgment implicitly.
"They can't reach the true heart of our defenses," Dragonzel said. "Valarr, pass me the pliers."
Valarr tossed them over. Dragonzel gripped a shard of stone lodged between Vermithor's scales and wrenched it free.
"There," he said.
Valarr exhaled dramatically. "It's a shame Ray has taken my bed again. Brother, can your chamber fit one more? Or perhaps Lord Edric could add another bed?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Or perhaps Quengur could patrol outside my room at night. I do not wish to wake up with an unexpected guest."
"I will speak with Lord Edric," Dragonzel said with restrained amusement. "As a Dragon Knight, you must grow accustomed to this. Check your doors. Check beneath your bed."
He understood perfectly the intentions of certain ambitious maids and daughters of minor houses. The blood of dragonriders carried weight beyond politics.
"Our bloodline is precious," Dragonzel added quietly. "The gods themselves have placed their wager upon it. We cannot afford carelessness."
Valarr sighed and slid down from Silverwing's back. The silver dragon turned her graceful neck and nudged him gently.
"See? Silverwing is far more considerate than any of them."
Dragonzel shook his head faintly. Such incidents would only increase with time. Even once Dragon Nest City stood complete, they would still need to travel—to other castles, perhaps even to King's Landing itself.
"Endure it for now," Dragonzel said. "Within three months, the main structure of Dragon Nest City will be finished. Matters will settle then. Until that time, I will have the Faceless Men watch your chambers—if Lord Edric refuses the additional bed."
Valarr's expression brightened immediately.
South of the Red Mountains.
Dorne — Weel City.
This ancient stronghold, situated near the Sea of Dorne, had changed hands many times. Armies from the marcher lords had seized and burned it repeatedly. It had been scorched during the Conquest by Aegon I Targaryen's dragonfire. Yet just as often, forces had ridden north from its gates to raid the Borderlands, returning with gold, grain, and captives.
Lord Ulleran Weel stood upon the walls, his face pale as ash.
Below him lay charred remains of ships and docks. The Varezes fleet had hurled flaming pitch and oil across the harbor. Had Weel City stood any closer to the shoreline, the stones hurled by trebuchets might have shattered its outer defenses entirely.
"Two dragons," Lord Ulleran muttered darkly.
"Yes, my lord," answered his sworn knight. "The dragons once ridden by King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen."
Even in Dorne, the names of the Conciliator and the Good Queen were remembered with reluctant respect. During their reign, the Seven Kingdoms had known stability and prosperity. Even Dorne had benefited from peace.
"This complicates matters," Lord Ulleran said sharply. "Has Prince Corwin replied?"
The maester shook his head. "No word yet, my lord. Based on his past counsel, he will likely advise reconciliation with the Dragon Knights."
"They slaughtered over a thousand of our people," Lord Ulleran hissed, gripping the chain at the maester's throat. "Write to Sunspear immediately. Inform the Prince that unless he sends troops, Dorne risks another dragon war. And write to the bastard in the Red Mountains—tell him House Weel will support his ambitions, provided he continues harassing the eastern Borderlands."
"Yes, my lord," the maester croaked.
"Write to House Uller as well. Tell them there is opportunity in the north. Write to Ghost Hill—if they do not respond swiftly, they may suffer retaliation from dragonfire."
Lord Ulleran swallowed bitterly.
"And write to Yronwood. Inform Lord Yronwood that I am willing to apologize for past offenses. Remind him that we once fought side by side."
He paused.
"No. Saddle the horses. I will ride to Sunspear personally. If the castle must be abandoned, so be it. Are the tunnels prepared?"
"They are ready, my lord."
"Good. If dragons appear, do not resist. Evacuate through the tunnels."
He descended the wall swiftly.
The maester exhaled.
The sworn knight stared at the smoldering harbor.
"Prepare the tunnels," he said quietly. "It would not be the first time."
He glanced skyward.
"Perhaps," he muttered, "we can deceive the Dragon King once more."
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