Thick smoke coiled above the square as flames leapt across the tower and nearby buildings with a crackling roar.
Lo Quen's gaze swept over the kneeling Hal and the familiar severed head in his hands.
He looked again at Hal, kneeling in a pool of blood, his entire body drenched.
A heavy silence pressed down like a boulder on every man forced to his knees.
Only the crackle of fire and the mournful wail of the sea wind through the ruins broke the stillness.
Lo Quen pondered.
Hal had not intended to surrender at first. Only when surrounded by his forces had he yielded, bowing to necessity.
Still, at a time when he was in need of men, having someone familiar with the waters of the Stepstones pledge service would prove useful for future conquests.
Lo Quen's voice carried authority. "Very well, Hal. You've done well. I accept your allegiance—and that of your brothers on Jawbreak Island."
He did not reach for the repulsive head, nor did he give it a second glance.
Turning slightly, he ordered the man beside him. "Ser Jorah, hang this head on the highest, most visible point of the fortress. Let all of Jawbreak Island see that the age of Caggo the Shipbreaker has ended."
"Yes, my lord."
Jorah's reply was low, his face expressionless.
He stepped forward, drew a spare length of coarse hemp rope from his belt, and swiftly looped it around Caggo's hair and jaw, tying a firm knot.
Then, carrying it as though it were no more than a bundle of goods, he turned without emotion and walked toward the tallest flagpole beside the tower.
Caggo's head swung in his grasp, blood dripping to the ground in a broken crimson trail.
Lo Quen's gaze returned to Hal. "Hal, you and your men will be temporarily placed under Roro's fleet. Assist him in stabilizing Jawbreak Island's outposts, tallying supplies, and gathering surrendered men. Should you harbor other thoughts, I'll hang your head beside Caggo's..."
He left the threat unfinished, but as his icy gaze swept across Hal and the crowd kneeling behind him, a chill pierced every spine, rising to the crown of their heads. It was as if the invisible scythe of death hovered at their throats.
The Dragon Soul Guards' cold stares pinned them like steel.
"Never, my lord! My Iron Hook is at your command!"
Hal pressed his forehead to the ground, his voice trembling with both fear and the elation of survival.
He knew he had won his first gamble, but from this moment on, he was bound irrevocably to the chariot of his ruthless and powerful new master. There was no turning back.
As Caggo's bloodied head was raised high on the tallest flagpole of Jawbreak Fort, swaying in the sea wind and morning breeze, it declared to the entire island the end of the old age and the arrival of a new order.
Jawbreak Island, once the dreaded lair of pirates feared by every merchant ship, was now under Lo Quen's command.
And his reputation spread with wings, carried on the bloody news deep into the Stepstones.
...
After seizing Jawbreak Island, Lo Quen immediately summoned Jaelena from Torturer's Deep.
By then, Roro had completed the tally of pirates.
Seated in what had once been Caggo's tower hall, Lo Quen looked down at Roro, Hal, and Jorah Mormont.
Roro spoke with delight. "My lord, the count is finished. A total of two thousand five hundred pirates have surrendered on Jawbreak Island. In addition, the island's storehouses hold immense wealth—worth over two hundred thousand golden dragons when measured in the coin of the Seven Kingdoms."
Two hundred thousand?
Adding this to his funds from Torturer's Deep, and subtracting Roro's spending in Spearhandle Village, he now held nearly seven hundred thousand golden dragons.
Enough to build a fine fleet—and he already commanded the ships of both Torturer's Deep and Jawbreak Island.
"Oh, about Weeping Reef—have we sent men there yet?" Lo Quen remembered how, after he shot Marla dead last night, the remaining Weeping Reef warships had scattered like frightened birds.
This time it was not Roro who answered, but Hal. "Lord, no one knows the waters of Weeping Reef better than us on Jawbreak Island. I've already ordered our brothers to assist Lord Roro's fleet in taking it. If those bastards resist, we'll crush them.
Our feud with Weeping Reef runs deep, with hundreds of disputes over the years. Caggo was abandoned by all because he tried to collude with that salt-whore of Weeping Reef. She pretends to support Jawbreak Island, but in truth, she would plunder us at every turn. We Jawbreak men will never ally with a salt-whore!"
The venom in Hal's words was bone-deep, and the pirate chieftains standing behind him all voiced their agreement.
Lo Quen was surprised. He hadn't realized the enmity between Jawbreak Island and Weeping Reef was so bitter, more like sworn enemies—reminiscent of the Brackens and Blackwoods of the Riverlands.
That being the case, perhaps Marla's raid last night hadn't been aimed solely at him. Jawbreak Island's shipyard could have been a target as well.
Otherwise, why hadn't they moved to stop him before his landing, instead of waiting until he had rampaged ashore to make a belated show of force?
A clever scheme—but it had ended with Lo Quen's arrow.
"Roro, what's the situation with Jawbreak Island's fleet?" Lo Quen turned to him.
After securing the island, he had ordered Roro to register every ship.
Roro, unable to contain his excitement, reported, "There are twenty-six oar-driven ships left, including five double-decked warships still fit for use."
A smile touched Lo Quen's lips. He was now one of the great powers of the Narrow Sea.
With the three ships from Torturer's Deep, the number of double-decked warships rose to eight.
Ordinary single-deck oar-ships numbered thirty-five.
On top of that, he had bought thirty merchant sailing ships in Volantis. Though their design made them ill-suited for oar-power, his five swan ships were each armed with heavy crossbows.
In all, Lo Quen now commanded forty-eight vessels ready for war.
He addressed the men. "With Marla dead, Weeping Reef is leaderless. Taking the island after our victory should be no trouble. But our true enemy is not Caggo or Marla—it is the man who calls himself the 'Prince of the Narrow Sea,' Salladhor Saan. Only by defeating him can we truly rule these waters."
"Roro, you and Ser Jorah will go to Spearhandle Village to buy repair materials and as many heavy ship weapons as possible. If there are shipwrights seeking employment, you may hire them outright."
At these words, a trace of unease flickered across Roro's face, but he quickly masked it.
"Yes, Lord."
When the others had dispersed, Roro returned alone to the hall. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Lord, why send me with Ser Jorah to Spearhandle Village? Are you not concerned..."
Roro was shrewd and keenly observant.
He had long since noticed that Jorah was not truly loyal to Lo Quen. More than once, he had urged Lo Quen not to trust a man with a divided heart, but every time, Lo Quen had only smiled and shaken his head.
This time, Roro could not help but raise the warning again.
Lo Quen no longer concealed his reasoning. "Roro, you've been with me long enough to know my ways. If there were no advantage, would I have kept him at my side for so long? Sending you with Jorah to Spearhandle Village has a purpose..."
He leaned close and whispered a few words into Roro's ear.
Roro's expression shifted at once, worry giving way to a smile.
"Lord, I understand."