Balerion kept hopping up and down on Gendry's arm. A dragon's appetite was truly astonishing. Every day, they had to eat several times their own body weight, then continue growing at an incredible pace.
The little dragon had already begun to breathe fire bit by bit. The dragonfire Balerion spat out was red black, the same as his own coloring.
"They truly are the strangest creatures in the world, creations of magic." Gendry loved everything about Balerion. Perhaps the two of them really were bound by blood. Balerion's scales were black all over, while his eyes, horns, and the spines along his back were blood red.
"It will not take long. Maybe two or three years, and the dragon will be ready to ride," Gendry said to Qyburn.
"If it is truly growing that quickly, then it seems the rumors were right. Balerion has been reborn. Every dragon grows at a different pace and to a different size. They go on growing for almost their entire lives, until they near old age. It is generally believed that fierce male dragons grow the fastest and largest. It seems Balerion has that quality as well."
"Yes. Which is why I need Dragonstone even more. That is the dragons' home," Gendry said.
Gendry's Balerion would grow even larger. First, the red comet had appeared earlier than before. Second, Gendry intended to take Dragonstone, and volcanoes and high heat were exactly what dragons loved most. Daenerys had wandered across the eastern continent, yet even then the black dragon had reached a wingspan of twelve feet, about six meters, in just two or three years. That was without Gendry personally raising his own black dragon.
"Have all the letters been sent out?" Gendry asked Maester Qyburn. There were two in all. One was the king's will, and the other was Gendry's proclamation.
"Everything is ready, Prince," Qyburn said. "We sent out a full three hundred ravens, from Arbor all the way to the Wall. I imagine at least two hundred will make it through the storms, hawks, and arrows. Two hundred maesters will carry the king's will into studies and bedchambers and read it aloud to their lords... though the outcome may not be ideal. Either the letters will be burned, or those who hear them will keep silent."
"That does not matter. Power is power. Once I show them what I can do, those weathercocks will know who the king is."
"Morosh's men have gone out as well?" Gendry asked.
"As you ordered," Qyburn went on. "Morosh has more than enough experience in smuggling, and he knows the coastline like the back of his hand. One squadron of his fast ships is taking Jon north, passing Tarth, Dragonstone, Gulltown, the Fingers, the Three Sisters, and even White Harbor. Another squadron is heading south with the old knight Barristan, rounding Cape Wrath and the Broken Arm, then following the Dornish coast all the way to Arbor. Each fleet carries a chest of letters. Every port, every manor, and every fishing village will receive two copies. They will be nailed to the doors of septs and inns so that anyone who can read will see them. And if someone cannot read, the guard knights can read the letters aloud for them."
"Good men are hard to come by. There will be many naval battles in the future, and the sharper our commanders at sea are, the better," Gendry said with a sigh. He had wanted to recruit the Onion Knight, but finding a good substitute was not bad either. Salladhor Saan of Lys, the pirate king, Morosh of Myr, and Davos of Dragonstone were probably the men who understood oars and wind best, all of them seasoned at sea.
"Yes, Prince."
"The old knight insisted on going himself?" Gendry asked.
"The old knight volunteered. He said it was his duty, and that his old face was still worth something," Qyburn replied.
Jon Snow and Barristan would each lead a team. The name of House Stark and the reputation of Ser Barristan would win them no small amount of support.
"All right then. Let him go. I have stolen Lord Stannis's work this time," Gendry said calmly. Originally, distributing these letters had been Stannis's task, but Stannis had moved too late, while Gendry's actions struck like thunder and lightning.
For one thing, Stannis did not control first hand intelligence. Isolated overseas on Dragonstone, he received news too late. For another, his strength was limited. Gathering his bannermen and manpower had already cost him a great deal of time. With only a few men to work with, he did not dare raise his banner too early.
"Lord Stannis has never been able to gather enough men, and he has been too hesitant to challenge the Iron Throne," Qyburn said. "But we are different."
"Of course we are different. But once I raise my banner, I must make sure the Seven Kingdoms submit to me whole and intact. I intend to win," Gendry said. At the very least, he had several advantages stacked on himself. The king's legitimized eldest son, the Targaryen princess's betrothed, a dragon rider, the liberator of slaves, the slayer of a Khal. But in the end, political skill and military success would still decide everything.
"Sending Jon north is a clever move. Perhaps it will help those hot blooded Northmen calm down a little," Qyburn said.
"Perhaps. Everyone ought to clear their heads."
"King Robert is dead, Great Lord Eddard has been captured, and the false king Joffrey has taken the throne. Now you are spreading the king's will. The realm is in chaos, and no lord is likely to be thinking clearly. The North worries me most," Qyburn said.
"I have heard the North is being run by children. Lord Eddard is in King's Landing, Lady Stark has gone to the Eyrie, and only Robb Stark and his brothers remain," Gendry said. He also felt the situation in the North was grim. At the very start of this uprising, there was hardly a single adult left to lead.
"The young are always impatient. Besides, the North has been hurt too deeply by King's Landing. If Lord Eddard suffers some misfortune as well, the consequences will be severe," Qyburn said. There was popular support behind Robb becoming king. If two generations of Starks died in King's Landing one after another, the bitterness of the Northmen was easy to imagine. The North was remote and isolated to begin with.
"I just hope Jon Snow can still make it in time to meet Robb."
"Prince, I see that in the letters you still present yourself as the heir. There is one more matter. The Freedmen of Myr and Tyrosh, the bankers, the Artisans' Guilds, the Vintners' Guilds, and the others all hope to support your coronation as soon as possible," Qyburn said.
"I will choose to be crowned, but I need the right place. At the very least, I want to bite off a piece of Westeros first," Gendry said.
The Bankers and Artisans' Guilds were even more eager than he was. If a new empire were established, they were bound to gain even greater wealth. It was an investment certain to pay off. Ever since Khal Drogo's death and the fall of his kingdom, these people had understood that the new order before them could no longer be shaken. They needed to serve the new king.
Qyburn nodded, understanding the Lord Commander's meaning.
"We have secret messages ready in Crackclaw Point, King's Landing, and the Riverlands. Should we start moving?" Qyburn asked.
"There is no need to be too hasty. Let us wait a little longer and see how the situation develops."
…
Tarth, Evenfall Hall. House Tarth's sigil was a quartered shield, with a yellow sun on a rose colored field and a white moon on a sky blue field.
Tarth lay north of Shipbreaker Bay, separated from the mainland by a strait. It was the first place Jon reached.
Tarth was said to be a place of great beauty, with mountains, lakes, waterfalls, highland pastures, and shadowed valleys. But Jon had no mind to admire any of it. He carried a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.
Jon did not like traveling by ship, but he had no choice right now. He was a messenger.
Selwyn Tarth chose to meet Jon Snow in a secluded cellar. Selwyn's eyes swept over the contents of the letter, and by the time he finished reading, his head felt ready to split apart.
"This... this is Lord Robert's will?" Selwyn asked.
"It is absolutely genuine," Jon Snow said with a nod.
"And has Lord Gendry taken the throne yet?" Selwyn asked carefully.
"No." Jon shook his head. "The Lord Commander likely has other plans. His proclamation says so as well. He intends to first put down the traitorous villains."
"Then forgive my bluntness, but why is there no royal seal on the will? And why is Joffrey still king in King's Landing?"
"My lord, the king was killed by a boar while hunting. It happened all at once. Before he died, the late king left his will in the Kingswood, witnessed by my father Lord Eddard and Ser Barristan. Ser Barristan is just across the Narrow Sea. As for why that little king took the throne, you should know House Lannister had been plotting this for a long time." Jon had prepared this answer in advance.
"How many troops does the Twin Cities have?" Selwyn asked the question he cared about most.
"The fleet across the Narrow Sea has three hundred longships, and the Twin Cities fleet has four hundred warships. As for the rest of their soldiers, I would estimate they number well over ten thousand. Lord Commander Gendry has slain two Dothraki Khals. The horsemen under his command alone may number over ten thousand."
Selwyn drew in a sharp breath. Those numbers meant wealth, military strength, and prestige. Whoever had stepped into the struggle now was no minor figure, but a ruthless force bristling with killing intent.
"Very well. Give Lord Gendry my regards."
"Yes."
"I understand what you have told me," Selwyn said. "I need to think it over a little more."
"And one more thing. Be careful when you leave. You are already on the king's list of traitors, and your father has already been declared a traitor."
"Yes, my lord." Jon's body stiffened for a moment, and his heart twisted with pain, but this was his mission. It was a duty of loyalty he was carrying out for his father.
After seeing Jon off, Selwyn went straight to his study, where his old Maester had already been waiting for some time.
"How many times have you received orders demanding your allegiance?" the old Maester asked.
"The fourth," Selwyn said, rubbing his head. "I'm already past fifty, and I have no son. All I want now is to die peacefully in my own bed." His only surviving child was a daughter, and his heir, Brienne of Tarth.
"You have no choice in this matter. Joffrey, Renly, Stannis, and Gendry of House Baratheon. You have to choose between four masters."
"Damn it, is that even a choice? You are asking me to dance among four men and pick the best partner," Selwyn grumbled.
"My lord, you have no choice. You know what happened to House Connington. Betting on the Iron Throne has always been a tremendous risk," the old Maester replied.
Jon Connington had taken command in suppressing the rebels during the War of the Usurper, but after his defeat at the Battle of the Bells, the Mad King stripped him of his title and lands and sent him into exile. His cousin, Ser Ronald, later joined the rebels in the battles that followed.
After King Robert was crowned, he returned Griffin's Roost to House Connington, but stripped them of their lordly title and most of their lands, granting those instead to supporters more loyal to him. As a result, after the War of the Usurper, their house was reduced from a true noble house to a knightly house.
"Yes. I cannot repeat the tragedy of the Red Griffin," Selwyn said, calming down.
"Stannis is out of the question. He is too weak, and his temper is too foul. Joffrey is out as well. He is too far away, and we cannot reach him at all," Selwyn said. "That leaves me with two choices. What do you think, old Maester?"
"Lord Renly and Lord Gendry. One is the king's younger brother, the other is the king's eldest bastard son. In terms of legitimacy, both have weaknesses. But in terms of strength, both are formidable."
"Originally, there would have been no issue in choosing Lord Renly. He has the support of the Stormlands and Highgarden. But the situation is tense now, and this will has suddenly appeared. If Highgarden hesitates, and the Stormlands split apart, then Lord Renly will have a hard time standing against his nephew, who commands a huge fleet and the wealth of the Twin Cities," Selwyn analyzed.
"That may be true, but we cannot place our bet lightly."
"Fine. I know what to do," Selwyn said. "Brienne wants to repay Lord Renly first, so let her follow him. As for my troops, I will only send Lord Renly a few old veterans and stragglers. The main force stays where it is. Once the situation becomes clear, I will commit myself."
"A wise choice. That leaves us room to advance or withdraw. Lady Brienne is a woman. I do not think whoever takes the Iron Throne will make things too difficult for us."
"Yes. I can only stand with the victor. No matter who wins the Iron Throne, House Tarth will remain loyal and reliable," Selwyn told himself. That was how the lords survived, preserving their strength until the final victor appeared.
"But that lad across the Narrow Sea. I really would like to see what he is like," Selwyn said. "Brienne says he is more handsome than Renly and as fierce as Robert. What kind of bearing must that be?"