Evening.
The Jawbreak Island fleet was returning from Weeping Reef Island.
Hal brought word that Marla's pirates had fled by ship.
Before leaving, those bastards had carried off most of Weeping Reef's wealth, leaving the Jawbreak Island fleet that went to claim it empty-handed.
Lo Quen felt his heart sink. The pirates had either escaped to the edges of the Stepstones, or... they were heading to Bloodstone Island to seek aid from Salladhor Saan.
He was certain they would join forces with Salladhor and march against him.
The real storm was brewing.
Time was shorter than he had expected.
To face the enemy, he would have to plan ahead.
Lo Quen left Caggo Fortress on Jawbreak Island, his steps heavy as he passed pirates clearing away the battlefield's wreckage.
These former Jawbreak Island marauders now played the clumsy role of cleaners, cowed into submission by his cold rule and the silent threat of the Dragon Soul Guards.
Charred beams, shattered weapons, and hardened clots of blackened blood were shoveled away.
At the harbor pier, Lo Quen stood with his boots on planks stained dark with blood and bleached pale by seawater, staring out at the deepening twilight on the horizon.
He had already settled on a reorganization plan earlier that day.
The 2,500 pirate soldiers of Jawbreak Island would be merged with the 1,500 survivors from Torturer's Deep.
Roro was given command of 1,000, while Hal would lead 500.
Of the rest, Jaelena would command 2,000 and Janice 500.
He had once kept Jaelena at Torturer's Deep, fearing a sudden strike from Caggo.
Now that both Caggo and Marla were dead, Jaelena could be freed to take on primary combat duties.
By the time she reached Jawbreak Island, night had already fallen.
She arrived worn and travel-stained.
Even aboard ship, Jaelena had already heard the news that the island had changed hands.
Her cold, composed features showed no ripple as she said, "Congratulations, my lord. The situation in the Stepstones is now clear. Once Salladhor Saan is removed, you will have full control over the Narrow Sea."
Lo Quen nodded. "True. But Salladhor is no fool. He has sailed the Narrow Sea for many years, and the strength he's gathered should not be underestimated."
Jaelena's gaze lingered on his face. "My lord, why not simply strike at the head?"
She paused, then went on. "Instead of meeting Salladhor in open battle, we could strike at his stronghold and kill him. These past months have shown me that the pirates of the Stepstones are nothing but a rabble. Unlike the great houses and kingdoms, who are bound by oaths and honor, pirates collapse the moment their leader is gone."
Jaelena was quick to learn. Since leaving the ruins of Valyria, she had absorbed much from Lo Quen about the cultures and histories of Westeros and the Free Cities.
"That's a sound idea," Lo Quen said, "but I can't exactly storm the enemy camp alone, can I?"
Her violet eyes locked onto his. "My lord, you could become a true dragon."
Lo Quen shook his head slightly, his gaze turning distant. "Jaelena, your sword is sharp, but your vision must reach farther. The Stepstones hold decisive weight for both sides of the Narrow Sea. They control the trade routes, linking two continents. Once we unify them, countless eyes will be fixed on this place.
The Iron Throne, the Nine Free Cities, and others besides...
If I must spend vast amounts of magic just to deal with these pirates, how will I have enough left to face those greater powers?"
He walked to the end of the pier, staring into the black vastness of the sea, and continued, "If I show my trump card now, both shores of the Narrow Sea will unite to destroy us, scheming to bring me down with scorpion bolts.
Aegon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms—except Dorne—with only three dragons and a few thousand men. But in those days, the Seven Kingdoms were separate realms, each at war with the other, their interests divided. That disunity made conquest possible.
Now, the Seven Kingdoms have been one realm under the Iron Throne for three hundred years. They have lived together, intermarried, and fought side by side in wars against foreign foes."
"At this moment, as a foreigner, if I were to conquer Westeros, I would face a unified regime—the Iron Throne—not the fractured Seven Kingdoms Aegon faced."
Lo Quen's voice was deep and powerful. "Jaelena, tell me—how much magic would I need to face this? A hundred thousand or a million? How many dragons? Three, or more?
No. Time is on our side. Our young dragons will soon hatch. They will grow stronger day by day. Magic will one day return to the world and free us from our limits.
What we can do now is use our limited magic to create extra gains before the hatchlings mature and before magic returns. Clearly, Salladhor is not part of that plan."
He turned, his eyes flashing with a cold, resolute light. "Jaelena, trust me. I've been waiting for one opportunity—one that matters—and it will come when we take the Stepstones."
Jaelena was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Lord, I have always trusted your judgment."
Lo Quen nodded and fell silent.
His deep gaze returned to the boundless darkness, as though already piercing the thick sea fog to see the clamor and plots unfolding on Bloodstone.
...
Bloodstone, at the stronghold of Salladhor Saan.
The air here was the exact opposite of the grim stillness after the battle at Jawbreak Fort.
Lamps burned bright. The hall buzzed with life, heavy with the scents of roasting fat, spices, sweat, and ale.
A great feast was underway.
More than a dozen long oak tables were crammed with people; the surfaces were piled with heavy wooden platters.
Chunks of beef stewed with beets, turnips, and parsnips simmered in rich gravy. Roast chickens stuffed with fruit browned to a crisp. Onions caramelized and glazed with meat juices sent up an intoxicating sweetness. Most striking were the suckling pigs at the center, their skins crackling with oil, shining a deep golden-red.
Pirates hacked at hard black bread with crude knives, greedily mopping up fat and juices, devouring it all. Chewing, swallowing, and the clink of cups and plates filled the air.
At the highest point, behind the lordly high table, "Prince of the Narrow Sea" Sarado Saan sat like a true king.
He wore an outer robe woven with silver thread that shone so bright it dazzled, the sleeves so long they nearly trailed on the floor.
Emerald, monkey-shaped buttons carved from jade flashed extravagant green in the lamplight.
His carefully curled silver-white hair was topped by an ornate, fan-shaped green velvet cap, stuck through with a few peacock tail feathers that trembled as he spoke.
With triumphant satisfaction he raised a glass of Dorne wine, dark as blood, his voice booming over the hall's noise.
"Brothers! Tonight, Bloodstone welcomes honored guests."
He pointed toward a group of figures at the hall's entrance who looked utterly out of place.
Some twenty or thirty of them—ragged, bearing fresh wounds—stood with faces hollowed by fear, exhaustion, and burning hatred.
They were Marla's last remnants, having fled here in disgrace.
"They come from Weeping Reefs—loyal followers of the Valiant 'Salt Widow' Marla," Salladhor's voice seethed with incitement and grief. "They bring atrocity: an Eastern sorcerer has crept into the Stepstones. With foul witchcraft he took Torturer's Deep, slaughtered the Caggo of Jawbreak Island, and—by devilish means—murdered our fearless ally, Marla, before all eyes."
The hall fell silent at once; only the sizzle of fat falling into the brazier broke the hush.
Every pirate's eyes fixed on the survivors from Weeping Reefs. The raw terror and hatred on their faces were proof enough.
Salladhor slammed his cup down, crimson wine splashing out. "This evil sorcerer's ambition will not stop. Weeping Reefs was only the beginning. Even Jawbreak Island could not sate him. Now his eyes are on our Bloodstone—on the whole Stepstones! He wants to turn us all into souls lost to his dark sorcery!"
He drew in a long breath, his voice exploding like a wave. "I, Salladhor Saan—the 'Prince of the Narrow Sea' you chose—will not allow this! The Stepstones are our home, the Narrow Sea our hunting ground. We will not let an Eastern sorcerer and his black arts run wild here. I declare—"
He raised his cup high again, a cunning, dangerous light in his eyes. "We will form a united force. With steel and fire we will wipe this evil sorcerer and his army from the Stepstones! We will bring back his head and hang it atop Bloodstone, so all who live along the Narrow Sea can see the fate that awaits those who dare challenge us!"