Viserys had been keeping Braavos under constant surveillance through his dragons.
He had personally witnessed everything from Freygo's speech to the riots that followed.
The situation inside the Sealord's Palace, however, remained unclear.
This operation still carried considerable risk.
"Your Grace, I believe this is an opportunity.
We have to settle the matter with Braavos as quickly as possible.
Otherwise, once the reinforcements from Slaver's Bay arrive, we'll find ourselves fighting on two fronts again!"
Mathos belonged to the younger generation of officers. Rather than shying away from risk, he was inclined to embrace it.
Clinton, however, was much more cautious.
"Your Grace, I believe we can let Urom continue stirring up greater unrest.
The reinforcements from Slaver's Bay will need at least a month to reach Volantis.
Once they organize themselves and launch an attack on Gohor, that will take another month or two. We still have plenty of time."
Clinton then turned toward Mathos.
"Robert still has a large army in his camp. What if this is a trap? I know the possibility is low, but are we really going to risk our dragons?"
Hearing the reproach in Clinton's voice, Mathos fell silent.
He lowered his head in shame.
Although he had previously defeated the combined armies of Braavos and Robert, he still felt that he had not avenged his father.
At the very least, he wanted to see Viserys cut off Robert's head with his own eyes. Only then would he consider their hatred settled.
Viserys patted Mathos on the shoulder before looking at everyone.
"I have an idea."
On an open stretch of ground, Arthur personally selected one hundred highly skilled soldiers.
They were all experienced men from the army.
Three dragons lay crouched before them.
Based on the amount of weight the dragons had carried before, the three of them should theoretically be able to bear the combined weight of roughly one hundred to one hundred and thirty men.
But once armor was added, that number would have to be reduced.
Even wearing light armor, the total could not exceed one hundred men.
Viserys's plan was to have the dragons carry as many elite soldiers as possible and then drop them directly into the Sealord's Palace for a surprise assault.
Arthur addressed the soldiers.
"Do you see the dragons behind me? You're a fortunate lot. You have the chance to ride dragons into battle.
Our target is the Sealord's Palace.
The dragons will carry you directly into the palace, where you will capture Freygo.
But there is a very real chance that some of you will die. That is Freygo's palace, and its defenses are extremely strong.
The dragons will fight alongside you, but if the battle turns against us, you will be left behind.
However, if you manage to capture Freygo, every man who takes part in this operation will be granted the rank of viscount by His Grace, along with one thousand acres of land.
Now, anyone willing to participate in this aerial assault, step forward!"
After Arthur finished speaking, the soldiers looked at one another, then turned their eyes toward the dragons before them.
A brown-haired Andal soldier finally stepped forward.
"I'll go! Even if I die, riding a dragon at least once will have been worth it!"
He took another step forward.
"I'll go too! I'm from Crackclaw Point!"
"I'll go!"
The voices of the selected soldiers rose one after another.
All one hundred men chose to participate in the assault.
Not one of them was an ordinary foot soldier.
Most were junior officers responsible for several dozen to more than a hundred men.
If they survived and completed their normal service, each would already be entitled to at least three hundred acres of land.
But they were all young.
Even the oldest was no more than twenty-five.
They wanted to seize this opportunity and take a gamble.
In the end, all one hundred men donned light armor and prepared to attack the Sealord's Palace under Arthur's command.
The problem was that there was nowhere near enough room for so many men to sit on the dragons' backs.
Viserys's dragon saddles were positioned where the neck joined the back.
Only there could a saddle be mounted without interfering with a dragon's flight.
After some experimentation, Viserys devised a strange arrangement of thick hemp ropes around the dragons.
It looked almost as though the dragons had been dressed in little harness vests.
The soldiers could not actually ride the dragons, but they could hang beneath their chests and bellies from the harnesses.
After being bound up in this strange contraption, Balerion looked at Viserys with an aggrieved expression.
He seemed to be telling his rider that he was extremely uncomfortable.
But after being rewarded with several fine bulls, the three dragons decided they could endure it for a while.
Balerion was the largest and strongest of the three, so he carried fifty men.
He also carried Viserys and Arthur.
Viserys could feel how difficult it was for the dragon to fly while dragging so much weight.
Nearby, Clinton and Mathos watched the dragons take off with worried expressions.
Fortunately, the dragons managed to climb into the air, though they swayed unsteadily as they did so.
For soldiers who had never left the ground before, the experience was extraordinarily novel.
They stared wide-eyed as the camp below them grew smaller and smaller.
Of course, some of them did not handle the experience well.
One soldier immediately began vomiting.
"Ser Arthur, how are you feeling?"
After noticing the vomiting soldier, Viserys turned his head and asked Arthur.
Arthur did not answer.
He merely kept his eyes closed with his head lowered.
Who would have thought that the legendary Sword of the Morning was afraid of heights?
"Just hold on. We'll be there soon."
Viserys said no more.
Under the cover of night, he led the three dragons rapidly toward the blue Sealord's Palace.
"My lord, riots have broken out in Drowning Town! Lord Tormo is requesting reinforcements!"
A scout hurried over to report to Quairo.
Two days had already passed, but Freygo's condition had still not improved.
Meanwhile, the unrest throughout Braavos was growing worse with every passing day.
Quairo and Tormo were struggling to maintain control of the situation.
"Why do they need reinforcements again? Didn't we just send him a hundred men at noon?"
"My lord, the rioters involved this time are carrying military weapons!"
The soldier requesting reinforcements explained.
Quairo knew he had no choice.
Viserys was no longer the only one who wanted Braavos thrown into chaos.
The nobles whom Freygo had suppressed were also taking advantage of the opportunity to make their move.
At least until Freygo regained consciousness, Quairo had to work with Tormo to maintain a basic level of order.
Robert still had plenty of men, but the Westerosi soldiers would only make matters worse.
Quairo did not dare use them.
By now, they had practically become synonymous with trouble.
After careful consideration, he drew eighty men from the guards of the Sealord's Palace and sent them to reinforce the city.
The remaining guards were ordered to strengthen their patrols.
As Quairo watched the reinforcements depart, an uneasy feeling lingered in his heart.
It felt as though the Sealord's Palace behind him had suddenly become dangerously vulnerable.
Quairo looked up.
The sky was dark and overcast. Not a star or moon could be seen.
'Your Grace, wake up soon.'
Quairo prayed silently.
He was just about to go check on Freygo in his chambers when warning bells suddenly rang throughout the surrounding area.
Quairo looked around in alarm, but saw nothing.
He raised his head toward the sky.
A black shadow was moving rapidly overhead.
"A dragon? Is Viserys going to burn down the Sealord's Palace?"
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