*
Jon stood on the beach, contemplating the heavily clouded sky. Ser Gerold and Davos stood close by, both men determined not to let him brood alone. Three more of his Kingsguard had followed him out here but had kept their distance. He had just returned from visiting Rhaegal. Before leaving the cave, he had briefly warged into Ghost, who was watching over Dany, and had seen through his direwolf's eyes that she was still sleeping peacefully. The soothing tea that the healer had given her had taken effect. The man had reassured him that the Queen would not wake before dawn, but Jon would take no chances.
It was the first time that Jon had needed the services of this particular healer, whom Sam had personally appointed to travel with the army. His friend had reassured Jon that it was the healer with the best reputation who worked in the clinic at the foot of the Red Keep. This was the first clinic that had opened shortly after Jon had taken the throne and that offered services to the servants and smallfolk. By now there were three such establishments up and running in King's Landing, all housed in former brothels once owned by Petyr Baelish. Oberyn had reassured Jon that there were still plenty of brothels left to service the good people and visitors in King's Landing, and Jon had taken the Dornish Prince's word for it.
The night before, as soon as Jon had swept Dany into his arms to carry her to their tent, one of his Kingsguard had travelled ahead to the encampment to make the necessary preparations for the return of the Queen. Not long afterward, their party had encountered the healer, accompanied by two muscular guards carrying a stretcher to transport the Queen the rest of the way. In no time at all, Dany's left arm had been splinted and secured tightly to her body.
Jon had not believed Dany at first when she had told him that her arm had not been broken by Euron fucking Greyjoy, but by an unlucky fall only moments before her rescue. Melisandre had had to confirm Dany's statement in order for Jon to calm down somewhat. Upon noticing that Dany had frowned and pursed her lips, Jon had begun to worry that she was perhaps frustrated with him or, Gods forbid, angry at him, and not merely wincing from her injury. He wisely decided to momentarily cease asking for the details of Euron Greyjoy's treatment of her.
While a female camp follower was helping Dany undress for the night, Jon had used his royal authority to force the healer to teach him how to use that triangular cloth, which the man had called a "sling," to immobilise the Queen's arm. In a corner of the tent, Jon had then practiced with a similar cloth on the left arm of one of his squires. He had done this a few times before the healer had felt satisfied with his attempts.
The man had then taken his King aside to whisper a bit of advice in his ear: it would be better if Jon let the Queen herself decide when to tell him more about her ordeal. His Grace should not insist on demanding more from her Grace at the moment--there would be enough time later for a more thorough questioning. For now, the Queen needed to rest, and it would be difficult for her if she were forced to relive her ordeal over and over again. Trying not to show his embarrassment, Jon had mumbled his thanks and promised that the Queen would be allowed to rest as long as she needed to. He had been pleased when the healer had left them with the promise to ask a servant to prepare some soothing tea for the Queen.
It had been such a relief for Jon to have Dany back here, safe in his tent, safe in their camp again. He could finally see with his own eyes that she was relatively unharmed except for a few bruises, mostly on her arms where her guards had gripped her. Jon could finally stop imagining all the unspeakable things that Dany's captors might have done to her. Throughout their limited time alone together, he had not let her out of his arms and had catered to her every need. When she was dressed for the night and had eaten her fill, he had carried her to the cot and had joined her there, determined to keep her company until she fell asleep. The entire time they had talked, he had not stopped caressing her innocently.
Jon had listened without interrupting while Dany told him about some of the things that had happened to her. He had suspected that she was skipping over some details, but he had refrained from asking her more probing questions. He hoped instead that Melisandre would be able to give him more information when he found time to speak with her in private. Jon had simply let Dany steer their conversation and start asking a few questions herself, mostly about Ghost and the dragons. While Jon was answering one of her questions, he was surprised by a soft snore, and he realized that Dany had finally succumbed to sleep.
Even after Dany had fallen asleep, Jon had been unwilling to leave her. He had wanted to spoon up behind her and hold on to her for as long as she slept. He had lingered by her cot for a while before finally leaving her, aware that there was nothing much he could do for her at the moment.
Jon had urgently needed to consult with Rhaegal and to get some fresh air before the upcoming battle at dawn. He had made sure that his and Dany's tent was heavily guarded before he left her to attend to the final preparations for battle. He had sent Renny to fetch Prince Oberyn to supervise Dany's guards, but had not waited for the Prince to arrive. Instead, he and Ser Gerold had gone to find Davos, and then, together with three other Kingsguards, Jon had hurried to the beach. There was nothing like a steady breeze of fresh sea air to clear his mind. He tried to enjoy these last few moments of respite before they headed out to battle. Only the Gods knew what unforeseen complications they would have to deal with this time.
Jon made a conscious effort to focus on the battle and set aside all thoughts of Dany for the moment. "Have all our allies responded to the signals?" he asked Ser Gerold. "Despite the intermittent rainstorms, they all should have had ample time to receive the altered orders that were sent after the parlay."
"We did, your Grace," His Lord Commander replied. "We spotted smoke signals from the west, and the Golden Company moved the ship with the red sail to the other side of their formation. If you recall, your Grace, that was the signal that we agreed upon to inform us that the Dornish troops have landed and can cut off the escape route south, not only in the mountains but on the beaches as well. Our own fleet has been spotted sailing up the coast and will come into view any moment now. Lord Randyll Tarly is closing in from the West and must have crossed the border by now. Together, we will advance on them from all sides. There is no route left for Stannis Baratheon and his allies to escape to!"
Jon briefly scanned the sky once more and noticed a faint red colour in the few areas that the clouds did not cover. There was still no sign of a dragon approaching. Earlier, when Jon had visited Rhaegal in the cave on the beach, the large creature had been sleeping. Jon, however, had not hesitated to wake him up, sensing that Rhaegal was now much calmer and more optimistic. Upon waking, the dragon had confirmed that he had finally succeeded in contacting his brother, though only briefly. Viserion had been exhausted, but had reassured Rhaegal that all he needed was a few days of rest and quiet so that he could recover. Although unwilling to disclose his whereabouts, he had assured his brother that the long cursed, screaming object was safely hidden where humans could not easily find it. He had added that he counted on Rhaegal to help him destroy it one day.
Before severing their connection, Viserion had also sent his brother an image of the foul wizard who was helping the enemy to torture dragons. Upon learning this, Jon had asked Rhaegal to show him the wizard's image so he would be able to recognize him. Earlier, Melisandre had approached him while he had been walking next to Dany's stretcher, and had advised him to capture the wizard alive so he could describe what they had done to Viserion.
Davos put his hand on Jon's shoulder. "Viserion will come back when he is ready, son. For now, let us concentrate on the battle at hand."
Jon had reached the same conclusion. The fact that Viserion had communicated and exchanged useful information with his brother was confirmation that he still considered them his pack. Not wanting to ignore his Hand, and feeling grateful that the man had helped him cease his musings, Jon slowly lowered his head and addressed his two loyal councillors. "I've gone over the plan several times now. We've never had a better strategy. Everything points in our favour. Still, I can't help but feel anxious. Why is that?"
"That's the lingering effect of the anxiety of the last couple of days. Shake it off, my King. We are ready for any eventuality." Ser Gerold, for once, spoke encouraging words.
"Indeed we are," Davos confirmed. "The commanders are patiently waiting for you to put things in motion. The cavalry and the infantry are both assembling to form their battle formations as we speak."
Jon took a deep breath. "All right, then. Let's head back so you can send out signals to all our allies that, as soon as our main hosts cross the border of the Stormlands, they can stop using stealth and can engage the enemy. If our enemy doesn't show up, they should just keep advancing at a steady pace and by no means break formation."
"They all have been briefed to do just that, your Grace," Ser Gerold stated confidently. "They know better than to let themselves be lured out into a vulnerable position by chasing a random group of enemy soldiers. Our forces will constantly be scanning the environment for traps laid out by the enemy. They were trained well and know how to press on and advance in close ranks. They will have their shield wall up at the first sign of danger."
"Good," Jon nodded. "Soon the fleet of the Golden Company will assume the agreed-upon formation to protect the arrival of the royal fleet. Thanks to their presence on the water, and since Strickland will deal with any resistance from the Ironborn fleet, the ships carrying the royal forces from Dragonstone, Claw Isle, and the Driftmark will be able to reach the beaches of the Stormlands in sufficient time."
"You'll be pleased to hear that the last scout to return has confirmed the earlier reports, your Grace," Ser Gerold informed Jon.
Jon and Davos exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing: Ser Gerold really was in an excellent mood. Perhaps their battle plan truly was perfect. In fact, Jon had never seen Ser Gerold so confident before a battle.
Davos spoke up when Jon stayed silent. "So it has been confirmed that the Ironborn soldiers have not returned to their ships last night, as is their wont, and for all we know, only a skeleton crew of Ironborn will be out on the water. That is good news for Strickland, for sure, but this means that our ground forces will have to face the bulk of Euron Greyjoy's forces. What if the man keeps his word and stands by his ally on the field of battle?"
Ser Gerold made a dismissive gesture. "Pfff, we can take the Ironborn even if we only match half their numbers--we'll cut through them like butter! Don't forget, the dragon will be quick to assist us the moment the Ironborn dare to show their faces."
Jon studied his Lord Commander's face. "What do you predict is going to happen, Ser Gerold? Will the Ironborn stand and fight alongside the Baratheon army, or will they prove to be cowards and turn and run straight into one of the traps we have set up? And if they do so, would Euron Greyjoy be more likely to flee south than west?"
Ser Gerold did not need to think long before responding. "Normally, I would loudly proclaim that if a Kraken runs, it is back to his ship. But ever since you came up with the brilliant idea of having the Golden Company raise the royal banner of the three-headed dragon on all the ships at the moment we attack, I don't think they will. And certainly not when the sellswords start doing the same on every Ironborn vessel immediately after seizing it. The Krakens would be fools to attempt a retreat by sea!"
Jon nodded emphatically. "The time for stealth has come and gone. We will show them the extent of our power and use it to strike fear in their hearts. We will intimidate them at every chance we get! We will make them doubt what they are doing. Get them to question their Commanders. Maybe even have them wonder whether they have chosen the right King to support! Perhaps some of their foot soldiers will surrender before we even get close enough to engage them. Raising my personal banner on all the ships will confirm that House Targaryen has taken control of the bay even before the battle has well and truly begun!" Jon suddenly stopped speaking, realising that he had gotten carried away and was beginning to believe, as Ser Gerold did, that his side would undoubtedly win this battle.
Davos, for once, did not point out that Jon was getting all worked up and should be more cautious. Instead, he added another argument to support the belief that their side would easily gain the upper hand. "Don't forget that our royal navy will have landed on the hostile beach by then, and the forces led by Lord Celtigar might already be in the process of driving the Krakens inland towards us. I'd say that those two threats will be enough to make even the fiercest Ironborn think twice about fleeing by sea! Whether they will run west or south, though, I cannot say. I could speculate and go for south, but it would be based on nothing more than my gut feeling. I'd lean more towards Euron Greyjoy fleeing, though. The only reason he'd stay here is if he had another trick left up his sleeve, some other elaborate trap we know nothing about. I don't think it likely, though. He seems to be the type of man who gambles without a safety net. And his gamble with the horn backfired! That's why I predict that he won't be around when we succeed in surrounding their camp. I just can't picture Euron Greyjoy making a stand next to the Baratheon army. I can't imagine him all ready and willing to fight fair and take an actual part in a conventional battle on dry land."
Jon chuckled. "'Dry' is perhaps not the best word to use, for it looks like another storm will hit soon! But I agree completely. You have just voiced my thoughts out loud. I can't picture that scenario either. And do not forget the dragons. Greyjoy surely knows that at least one of the dragons will most likely come after him. He is no fool. He knows that dragons are intelligent creatures and that he will be their prime target."
Then Jon sighed. "If only I knew where Viserion was, and could confirm with my own eyes that he is not severely hurt! What if he needs our help but is too traumatized to ask for it? He can't have flown far. If I knew where he was, I could have visited briefly with Rhaegal. I want to help him so badly! But instead, I need to content myself with having Rhaegal tell him how deeply I feel for him and wish to help him. How I wish that he would trust me again! All I know now is that he is resting and that his eyes are healing."
"At least that is progress, son," Davos said in a soothing tone. "Rhaegal will do all he can, and I'm sure he'll keep you informed."
Jon nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's literally what Rhaegal and I agreed upon. Rhaegal will also keep his brother up to date on the battle. Perhaps when Viserion learns that we are taking revenge on his torturers, he will regain his trust in us. Who knows, he might even show up in time to assist us. He must be itching to burn some Ironborn and get his revenge!"
"Why would he distrust you, my King? You never did anything to hurt him." Ser Gerold frowned at the thought of the white dragon not supporting his King unconditionally.
Jon bowed his head in shame. "I couldn't protect him, Ser Gerold. Rhaegal and I, we just left him there and allowed him and Dany to be captured."
"All will be well-- I am certain of it! All Viserion needs is time. Dragons are intelligent creatures. Once Viserion's shock wears off and he can think clearly again, he'll understand that you had no other choice at the time. I predict that he will return soon. Those dragons worship you--I'd stake my life on it!" Davos's open, sincere demeanour convinced Jon that his Hand truly believed what he was saying and was not just uttering hollow phrases to reassure him.
"I agree!" Ser Gerold was quick to support Davos in encouraging their King. "Nobody can stay mad at you for long, my King. Before long, the white dragon will land at your feet and beg your forgiveness for abandoning you. I know, because I would do the same!"
Despite the gravity of their topic, Jon suppressed a smile. Ser Gerold certainly persisted in behaving out of character by adamantly refusing to entertain the worst-case scenario. Once again, Jon raised his head to scan the eastern sky. How he wished he had the magical power to conjure up Viserion by merely staring at an empty sky! If only he could, through sheer willpower, convince the dragon to trust him again. He shook his head slightly and admitted to himself that chances were slim that Viserion would return before they launched their attack.
A movement to his right made Jon turn to Ser Davos, who was pointing at something. Jon squinted and saw the faint shapes of ships approaching from the north. "Our loyal fleet!" he exclaimed.
Ser Gerold signalled for the horses to be brought to them. It was time to put things in motion. Jon took the reins that Ser Patreck held out to him and addressed Davos and Ser Gerold one last time before mounting his horse. "I pray to all the Gods that both of you are correct and that we will win the day! Let us now head back. I need to dress myself for battle before we join the others and hold our final war council. Can I count on both of you to keep the meeting brief? I intend to move out as soon as possible. I cannot wait to show Stannis Baratheon and Euron Greyjoy, once and for all, what the words of my house are truly about. I promised them 'Fire and Blood'. They will soon find out that I was raised to always fulfil my promises."
***
Jon tried to keep his expression neutral as he observed the awestruck faces of his military commanders when he strode into the war tent in full Valyrian steel harness, his helmet tucked under his arm. This was the first time that he was wearing it in their presence. It had been a calculated move: the sight of him attired like his father would remind them of the righteousness of their cause. He also aimed to display the strength and power of his House and of the Crown, in order to give all the men who were about to risk their lives for him an extra boost of confidence and courage.
When his men's exclamations had dissolved into soft murmurs, Jon held up his right hand and waited until they finally fell silent. "My Lords, you are all familiar with our strategy by now. We advance in formation and will do all that we can think of to intimidate them. I trust your soldiers have all learned the short verses that they are to chant, and in the proper order?"
When all the men nodded, Jon gave them a small smile. He could already picture the left flank chanting a question and the rest of the army answering as one. Then the war drums would beat the rhythm of the answer before the entire army would repeat the slogan at the top of their lungs, all the while advancing slowly but steadily toward the enemy. The first few lines popped into Jon's mind. 'Who will win the day? We will! House Targaryen will! What must the enemy fear? Our wrath, our dragons' wrath! What did we bring? Fire and Blood, and steel to sing!' Of course, as soon as the battle was in full swing, the collective battle cries would stop and the noble houses would call out their own words to give them courage. Jon knew he would be crying 'For the Queen!' for all to hear as he prepared to cut down his first Ironborn.
Before the men's murmurs could resume, Jon acknowledged their nods. "Very well. Make sure that the chanting starts the moment the green dragon sets off on his first flyover and destroys the catapults that our enemies have built. If we succeed in surprising them, Rhaegal will also burn the horses that they haven't been able to reach yet. And, most importantly, we move as one and scare the shit out of them!"
"Next, we must make sure that our allies to the east, west and south receive word of how the enemy is reacting. Have a few archers stand by with the prearranged messages fixed to their arrows. They only have to pick the relevant one to shoot in the direction of our scouts, who will be hidden in their prearranged positions all across the entire area and will pass these messages on. You have all been briefed on everyone's positions. If the enemy splits up, get the word out. Not a single soldier can be allowed to slip past our ranks! As soon as the sun emerges from behind the clouds, know that you can also use the small mirrors to send out the prearranged signals. It is vital that our forces on the beach and our allies to the west and south know what to expect and which strategy to adapt. Are there any questions before we form up?"
"Will you be on your dragon, your Grace?" Lord Royce asked.
"I suppose my outfit is answer enough," Jon replied. "No, I won't be in the air. I will instead lead the cavalry, flanked by my entire Kingsguard. The objective is to scare the enemy and make them break formation. What better way than to see the reincarnation of my father riding towards them, accompanied by the most renowned sword fighters in the realm? Just picture it: seven White Cloaks led by the legendary White Bull, the Sword of The Morning, and Ser Oswell--all seemingly alive and well after being thought dead for more than a decade--advancing toward them with their swords drawn, and a large dragon flying overhead? Once they dare to look past us, the next things that they will see are the banners of countless houses from almost every Kingdom. We will make sure that they will recognise the banners of the few Stormland houses that have agreed to take up position in the vanguard. Can you imagine their reaction when they behold our magnificent cavalry, flanked on both sides by an impeccable formation of foot soldiers, resolutely advancing? I am willing to bet that some of them will have wet their pants before we have even closed half the distance between us!"
"Is it wise to position yourself on the frontline, your Grace?" Lord Brynden of House Tully spoke up. The other commanders were quick to voice out a similar concern.
Jon held up his hand once again. "I forgot to tell you that Ghost, my fearsome direwolf, will be with me as well. And I have been assured that no arrow will pierce this harness, my Lords. Chances are that the enemy will turn and run before we are close enough to clash swords. If not, I promise not to take undue risks. But, as the defender of the realm, I will take an active part in the battle. Most of you have seen me spar; others are aware of my reputation as a swordsman. Keep in mind that I will be protected on all sides by my loyal and very capable Kingsguard. And I am confident that every man in my army, regardless of rank, shall willingly rush to my aid if he is able to and should the need arise. Lastly, do not forget that my dragon will be keeping an eye on me from the air as well."
Ser Gerold spoke up. "My Lords, I am confident that each one of you—hells, each one of your soldiers!--is more capable and more motivated than the average enemy soldier that we will face on the field. Do not forget that we have the element of surprise on our side. They will be preparing for a noontime attack, but we intend to wake them at dawn. Our formations will hold and our attack will be coordinated. They will probably still be struggling to form lines when we start our chant to distract them even more."
Davos took the floor. "You all have been given descriptions of Euron Greyjoy and Stannis Baratheon. Our intent is to capture them alive so we can give them a trial and publicly execute them. There is a third person the King wants taken alive: a wizard in Greyjoy's employ. He is tall and thin with long white hair. He has missing fingers on each hand and usually wears a long white robe that reaches the ground. This man may have information that can help us. As much as possible, capture him alive."
"We'll spread the word," Lord Willas of House Tyrell promised.
Davos nodded. "Thank you, Lord Tyrell. I will count on it. Are there other concerns or questions that we still need to address?"
It was Lord Brynden of House Tully who began speaking. "What about the dragon, my King? If you do not steer him, how will he, uh . . . will we be safe?" The Blackfish did not need to elaborate for Jon to understand what he meant.
"Rhaegal knows the plan." Jon met the eyes of his commanders one by one, realising full well that Lord Tully had voiced a mutual concern. "That dragon is smarter than you think, and he will not endanger any of us. He is also more loyal to me than you can even begin to imagine. Rhaegal can feel my mood and hear my thoughts when I allow him to share my mind. If necessary, I will communicate with him and give him orders. No matter how far he is from me, he will hear my commands. You were all told of how Viserion freed himself and incinerated the magic horn. Our enemy is no longer in possession of a magic object that can hinder our dragons. I pity those among our enemies who will face Rhaegal's wrath."
Davos spoke up now. "I wish to remind you one last time that many of the Stormlanders that we will be facing are only following Stannis Baratheon under threat of being sacrificed to his fire god if they refuse. If any of these men surrender, show them mercy. Take away their weapons and imprison them. They are not to be mistreated after they have formally yielded."
The Lords all looked at their King for confirmation. Jon nodded his agreement and added, "Make sure to keep the Stormland captives separate from any Ironborn whom you take prisoner. During our earlier war councils, I mentioned that I would not ask you to hold back when engaging the Krakens. I now desire, more than ever, that you do this. The Queen was quick to place the blame of her capture and harsh treatment on the Ironborn."
The men all began to mutter and curse the Ironborn. Even if he was pleased to see that they were so protective of their Queen, Jon greatly wished to finish the meeting and head out. "My Lords," he said firmly, "I want to use this opportunity to repeat the warning that the Gods have sent us. Separate sources, more specifically, separate greenseers in different locations have received the same vision. After closely studying these visions, we have come to the conclusion that we need to take this particular warning of the Gods literally. For reasons that are largely beyond our comprehension, it is imperative that we try to minimize bloodshed at all costs. We must prevent too much blood from seeping into the soil or flowing into the bay or the sea."
"Blood magic?" Renly Baratheon's voice sounded shrill as he uttered those two words. He acted as if he was only hearing about this for the first time--as if Jon had not mentioned the warning of the Gods at quite a few meetings already.
"Our enemy has been known to use blood magic," Jon confirmed without volunteering further information. "For that reason, Rhaegar has been given orders to burn his victims until only their ashes remain. Try to be creative when you subdue the enemy. Strangle them, knock them unconscious, disarm them and tie them up if possible. However, never endanger your own lives! If you have no other options, run your attackers through with your lance or sword before they can wound you. Try not to leave too many bleeding enemy corpses behind. They should be burned before too much blood leaks into the earth. Rhaegal can help with this, and several men will be carrying torches for that very purpose. Should some of our own fall, we will treat their bodies with respect. Bandage their wounds if possible, so the rear guard can transport their bodies safely to the encampment and they can be prepared for their funeral ceremony afterwards."
"Have all our allies been given these unusual instructions?" Lord Lannister asked.
Jon turned to Lord Tyrion's uncle, relieved that the man had come around and made amends. Lord Kevan of House Lannister had renewed his pledge of allegiance in front of all his commanders and Jon had formally forgiven him for breaking faith. Jon had also allowed him to fly the Lannister banner and permitted his soldiers to openly wear the striking colours of their Liege Lord with pride. It was now time, anyway, to show Stannis Baratheon that the combined might of at least five Kingdoms was coming for him.
Jon confidently met Kevan Lannister's gaze. "They have all received detailed instructions. You see, the Gods sent their warning long before the date of the parlay was set. The Dornish troops, the Golden Company, the fleet commanded by Lord Celtigar, and the forces led by Lord Randyll of House Tarly have all been notified of this in good time."
Jon's eyes took in the flashy gold and red armour the man had shown up in. His allied forces would make a striking impression: White Cloaks, Knights in shining armour, banners of countless noble houses in all shapes and sizes. At the previous war council, where Davos had finally disclosed the full extent of the battle plans, Jon's commanders had suggested carrying some northern banners with them as well, or at least the Stark banner, since the King was half Stark. Jon had decided not to; the houses of the Northern Kingdoms had not been called to arms, and he saw no need to hide this fact.
To convince his commanders that they had all the manpower necessary to intimidate the enemy, Jon had finally disclosed the location of his reserve armies. He had made sure to mention the size of the armies ready to ambush the enemy from the south and the west. They had already been informed about the allegiance of the Golden Company. It was also at that meeting that most of his commanders learned that the rumour that the Dornish loyalties were split was untrue. In fact, none of the Dornish forces were in league with Stannis Baratheon; the entire Kingdom of Dorne had answered King Aegon's call to arms. The Dornish army that would land on the southern beaches would move inland and, together with the army guarding the mountain passes near the border of Dorne and the Stormlands, they would cut off the enemy's escape route in that direction. Dornish ships would also be patrolling to prevent any of the Ironborn from fleeing south by ship. The men gave sighs of relief when Davos confirmed that Lord Tarly was also loyal to King Aegon, even if, to trick Stannis Baratheon, his forces had pretended to heed the call to arms on behalf of 'King' Stannis.
When a few Lords had declared how insulted they were at being left out of the loop for so long, Davos quickly intervened, preventing their outrage from increasing. In his customary calm manner, he had explained that it had been necessary to keep the secret this long; if not, Stannis Baratheon might have discovered the truth too early. In a large encampment such as theirs, it was always possible that someone could sneak in, disguised as an ally. The men guarding the perimeter could not know everyone in camp, and it was not too difficult to discover the password necessary for entering the camp. When Davos had told them about the two spies who had been captured two nights before the Queen and Viserion had been taken, the angry Lords had been duly silenced.
Taken aback by the Lords' vehement reactions, Jon had been glad that he had heeded Davos' counsel and had informed Lord Willas of House Tyrell of the understanding with Lord Tarly before Lord Willas had left King's Landing to join the army. The Lord of the Reach would have been justified to criticize the King for not trusting him and for dealing with his bannermen behind his back.
Jon let his gaze wander over the men gathered around him. It looked like they were all on board with his strategy. This time, nobody had started muttering about being kept out of the loop for so long when he mentioned Dorne or Lord Tarly. "Any other thoughts or questions?" he asked. When the men shook their heads, Jon's eye fell on Lord Renly of House Baratheon.
Jon had almost come to blows with Renly Baratheon a few times before, and he now understood why Stannis Baratheon had refused to let his brother attend the parlay. It had been one of the easier terms to agree with. And since Daenerys had been a prisoner of Stannis Baratheon at the time, Jon had taken no risks and had left Lord Renly behind without any protest.
Their most recent disagreement had centred on the issue of Lord Renly's not being given command of the small force from the Stormlands that had pledged fealty to House Targaryen. Jon and his closest advisers had decided that Ser Gerold should assume command instead. That was the best military option since these men were going to be part of the vanguard and were set to ride in formation with Jon and his White Cloaks. They had decided on this arrangement in order to give the Stormlords fighting for Stannis Baratheon another reason to regret the side they had chosen. The sight of their fellow Lords and, perhaps, the friends of their youth riding towards them, weapons drawn, might convince them to reconsider and surrender.
Neither Jon nor his advisers could picture Lord Renly leading the charge on the front lines. Instead, Lord Renly had been assigned to oversee the rear guard along with Davos. It would put him out of harm's way and Jon need not worry about his chances of survival. However, Lord Renly had not taken this well and had accused Jon of sidelining him. He had voiced his misgivings out loud, wondering whether the King would keep his word and allow him to rule the Stormlands, instead of some puppet fished up from the Seven knew where! Jon had not tried to hide how insulted he felt to have his honour questioned and Gendry belittled. It had required all of Davos' diplomatic skills to get both men to calm down and to admit that they were both on edge and had said things that they would regret later.
Jon, however, would now make doubly sure to set up a shadow government for the Stormlands. He was done with pampering Renly, and he refused to tolerate any more of his demands or tantrums. If the man wanted his King to respect him, then he would have to grow a spine, show respect to his superiors, and learn what ruling was actually about. Jon would only allow Lord Renly more leeway once the latter proved to him that he now knew that there was more to being a Lord than merely dressing up like one, attending tournaments and banquets, and insisting on being treated with respect due to his inherited station.
"Lord Renly!" Jon spoke his name loudly enough to catch everyone's attention. "You have yet to share your opinion. How do you believe your brother will react to our surprise attack, keeping in mind the change in our circumstances?"
Jon was secretly amused when all eyes turned to Lord Renly to hear his reply. This man, who was always so quick to voice his complaints, proved to be hopelessly out of his depth after being asked one straightforward military-related question.
Finally, Renly Baratheon responded in his usual affected tone. "My brother will not flee. He will order his men to fight until the last man."
"We all agree that Stannis Baratheon is no coward, Lord Renly. The question is, will he make his stand here near the border, or will he regroup somewhere else? Which terrain would he prefer to face us on? Is there any place nearby where he has a strategic advantage over us--the high ground, so to speak?" Jon tried once more to get squeeze intelligence from Renly.
Renly merely shrugged his shoulders, and Jon gave up. He turned to the other Lords and flashed them his most encouraging smile. "So our strategy is final. I wish you all courage and strength for the coming battle. The Gods are on our side, and the dragons as well! We will carry the day!"
Davos spoke up quickly as the commanders rose to their feet. "Let's join the men outside. The King will survey the army before he gives the signal to head out."
'The Gods bless Davos', Jon thought as he added, "And I will address them shortly to wish them Godspeed and thank them for their loyalty. I will let Rhaegal perform a flyover to show them that I can control him and likewise remind them that the enemy has no dragon to command. May I stress once more how important it is that they understand that only a member of House Targaryen can control a dragon? Each of our soldiers must be reassured that, no matter what happens on the battlefield, the dragons will not hurt them. Remind them that my dragons are very intelligent and have keen eyes and instincts. If one of the dragons happens to fly rather low over our men's heads, our men must not falter and must focus on the enemy instead. The dragons will help them intimidate our enemy, while our men should press on and use the enemy's fear and distraction to their advantage. My dragons will only unleash their fire when they are absolutely certain that it will only harm enemy soldiers or destroy enemy assets."
Davos coughed to get everyone's attention and officially closed the meeting. "Let's get on with it then, my Lords. And do not forget to pray for continued dry weather!"
Jon was the first to leave the war tent. He had to pick up Ghost, who was still guarding Dany. He had already scribbled a note to leave in their tent for her to find when she woke up. When he reached the tent, he saw Oberyn sitting next to the entrance. The Dornish Prince was keeping vigil with several of his long spears within easy range, already making good on his word. Prince Oberyn had promised to personally oversee Dany's safety until Nymeria Sand arrived with the Golden Company to secure the campsite.
Oberyn looked up at Jon, his face serious for once. "All set?"
"Yes. We head out as soon as I have addressed the men."
"Well then, what's keeping you? Hurry inside, kiss your sleeping beauty, and go play the hero! I foresee that this will be the easiest battle you have ever fought."
"Is that why you won't come along? Not enough of a challenge?" Jon relaxed as he and Oberyn effortlessly engaged in their customary friendly banter.
Oberyn smiled. "You don't need me out there! You must admit that you are utterly relieved that someone of unlimited capabilities is guarding your precious Dany. Do not worry. I will fight beside you when you truly have need of me."
All teasing was instantly forgotten as Jon exclaimed, "You'll come North with us?"
"Try and keep me away!" Oberyn challenged him. "You'll want me close. Ser Arthur might guard your weaker left side, but I will guard your back as well as your right. I have been training diligently these past few months."
Jon nodded solemnly. "I'd be a fool to refuse your help. I promise that I'll never doubt you again."
"But where's the fun in that?" Oberyn countered and, grinning, shoved Jon inside the tent.
Ghost immediately rose to his feet and made room for Jon. Mindful of his armour, Jon knelt beside the cot and contemplated his sleeping wife. He gently brushed a lock of hair from her forehead and pressed his lips to it for a moment. She looked at peace, with no trace of her recent ordeal visible on her face. Jon marvelled at how young, beautiful, and innocent she looked with her features relaxed in sleep. He fought an impulse to wake her so he could kiss her deeply before the battle. It was a selfish thought, he told himself, and would do her no good. Once awake, she would start to worry about his safety and be unable to sleep again. Jon's eyes wandered instead over her form and her flat belly. Melisandre had offered them hope--they would soon know for sure. His lips ghosted over hers as he got back on his feet. Before leaving the tent, he contemplated her one last time, and only when Ghost nudged him did he finally step outside.
Jon waved goodbye to Oberyn, who joked about stealing his lady and his two squires, and making a play for that iron monstrosity in the Red Keep, if Aegon didn't write or come back soon. By the time Oberyn finished his sentence, Jon was already too far away to retort, but a smile played on his lips as he took the reins of his horse from Monty. Both squires would remain in camp; they had received orders to stay close to Daenerys, bring her meals, and perform other tasks that the Queen might require their assistance with.
Jon watched the formations line up on the open field as he stood between Ghost and his horse. Each soldier knew his place well, and the ranks looked impressive. Soon they would march out and force Stannis Baratheon to bow to the might of House Targaryen. Jon prayed that he could return safely to Dany at the end of the day and bring her the welcome news that the Seven Kingdoms were now truly theirs. He closed his eyes and recalled how he had kissed her ever so lightly before leaving her.
Jon had written down all the information that Rhaegal had given him about Viserion on a small scroll which he had left on the furs next to where Dany rested her head. He knew that she would be pleased, though not surprised, to learn that Rhaegal had succeeded in contacting his brother. In fact, she would have expected it. She had felt something stir deep inside her twice already, and had somehow known that it had been her tentative link with Viserion. Jon remembered that she had first told him of this after he had found her and Melisandre in the woods and had been carrying her back to their tent. Neither of them had dared utter the word 'bonding' out loud, but they both knew what this could imply.
As Jon mounted his horse, he turned to gaze one last time in the direction of the royal tent. Although he was too far to see them, he knew that Prince Oberyn had posted several royal guards all around the tent--men who would protect the Queen with their lives. As soon as the royal fleet had landed safely and the Ironborn ships were neutralised, a large section of the Golden Company would disembark to secure the perimeter of their camp. It had been decided that the Essosi sellswords would not take part in the battle against Stannis Baratheon, but would instead ensure the safety of all the Targaryen camp followers who had stayed behind. Jon had been doubly glad that they had organised things this way now that Dany would also be left behind in camp. Prince Oberyn was bound by his promise to remain by Dany's side until he judged that the Golden Company had everything under control; then nothing in the world could keep him from joining the battle. Jon knew better than to try and predict the next move of his Dornish friend.
Not one war horn sounded to alert the men that it was time to move out. Instead, they had agreed to use other ways of communicating as a sign of respect for the dragons. The different rhythms of the war drums announced that each of the divisions were ready to move out. As promised, Jon made a show of surveying the entire length of the assembled forces. He shouted a few commands and Rhaegal performed several somersaults up in the air, to the delight of Jon's men.
The moment had finally arrived. Jon spurred his horse and his Seven White Cloaks did the same. With Ghost glued to Jon's left, they positioned themselves at the head of his army. He had not seen Davos but knew that his Hand would be overseeing the rear guard and the supply lines, as well as keeping an eye on Renly Baratheon. Jon scanned the horizon and saw the faint outlines of the Baratheon camp. "Fire and blood," he muttered under his breath, and then repeated it in a louder voice so that his Kingsguard could hear him. "Fire and Blood is what I promised Stannis Baratheon! Let's bring it to him!" Jon moved forward with an arm raised high, and the war drums began to beat the sequence that signaled the start of the march. The Seven White Cloaks quickly followed their commander. Jon could hear his whole army behind him, following his lead. 'Here we come, Euron Greyjoy and Stannis Baratheon! Here we come, with Fire and Blood, as promised!'
***