Aeron VIII
32AC
The scene laid out before Aeron was a bewildering one. One of thousands of men, all stationed in winter quarters. Yet all were making a myriad of siege weapons as the sun barely rose above the horizon. Siege towers, Ballistae, and trebuchets, Maegor had told him to have the army practice making these creations.
Right now they were making siege weapons but Aeron had an entire schedule of things he and the newly minted "engineering core" would be constructing over the next few sennights. River barges, pontoon bridges, actual bridges, even roads. Maegor had an extensive list of things for his army to practice building. All with plans thought up by some of the very best of Pentos's engineers.
They were a new creation of Maegor's. He had worked his magic with his gold-laden friend Rego Draz and gathered together a group of architects and builders to join the company. They formed their own little section in camp and were beginning to draw up all manner of designs for the Black Company to use.
"Why is Maegor having the army do this again?" Aeron heard Jasper say to his right and Aeron turned to face his friend.
Jasper Arryn, second son of Ronnel Arryn, the King who Flew. Aeron's friend was among the sizable number of second sons and men who crossed the sea to join the Black Company following the stunning success over the Dothraki two years ago.
Ever since his arrival, they had picked up just where they left off. Almost two years of separation did little to stem their friendship and they even managed to drag Maegor into a few games of cards every now and then. Even if his friend only seemed to get busier by the day.
It was not just cards Jasper was good for of course. His friend remained a stellar equestrian and slotted perfectly into the role of vice lieutenant of the ever-growing cavalry force. Of course, the lieutenant of the cavalry was a more experienced leader.
"To prepare the army for any eventuality. Those were his words yes?" Ser Gawen Corbray answered in Aerons place and was met with a nod.
Ser Gawen Corbray had known Maegor even longer than Aeron had. The expert swordsman and knight squired Maegor for years and even after Maegor slew the Giant of the Trident, he remained a trusted friend and source of advice until Maegor's banishment.
When he arrived with Jasper and almost three thousand Valemen, he was a natural choice for the lieutenant of the cavalry. Aeron would not even have been shocked if Maegor had chosen to place Ser Gawen in Aeron's position.
Ser Gawen certainly would be a capable military commander. He had decades of experience in combat. Whether at tourneys, hunting robber knights, or fighting Wildlings in the Vale. Not to mention he was the designated leader of the Valemen who went east.
But that had not come to pass. It seemed Ser Gawen had no interest in the vice-captain position and was fully content with his position at the head of the cavalry force. Especially when he got almost a thousand Dothraki to play with.
"Yes, I believe it was something like that. But I wish he would be more clear so we could actually help organize this," Aeron said with a little dismay. Currently, the army was spread out into their marching groups. Each was accompanied by one of the new engineers Maegor brought along. Each working on a siege engine.
"Our work is done, now it is on the engineers to get the men to work," Ser Gawen said with a small smile which only made Aeron give an exasperated look. Ser Gawen was a military man, that much was evidently clear from his personality.
An overly martial man, tough as nails and as ferocious as any beast. Ser Gawen hardly cared for the intricacies of politics or etiquette. Preferring direct combat to planning and moving men around. Aeron typically never saw combat, remaining in the back of the lines and moving men around. Meanwhile, Ser Gawen could lead from the front if he chose to.
'Perhaps that is why Maegor did not even offer Ser Gawen my position,' Aeron thought with a sympathetic look sent his friend Jasper's way. Ser Gawen was by no means incompetent or a burden. But many of the less interesting things about leading a force of cavalry were pushed off onto his friend.
Jasper did not seem to mind, however. He must have redoubled his learning when he returned home as he attacked his newfound position with fervor. He was often the one to actually whip the cavalry into shape during exercises and it was typically him at the back of the formation during combat.
Aeron preferred it that way of course. The back of the formation was far safer and he had little desire to lose a friend. Not only would it deprive Aeron of trusted counsel and a capable commander, but he had only just reunited with his friend.
"I doubt that, Ser Gawen. Currently, the men are divided up into sections, only learning from one group of engineers at a time. They will need to be switched at some point to make sure the force is even," Lord Galladon Tarth cut in and Aeron smiled at the other commander just under him.
Lord Galladon Tarth, the elderly former lord of the Saphire Isle. Quite similar to Ser Gawen and yet very different. Just as martial and experienced in combat but much more willing to properly handle the difficulties of leadership.
Lord Galladon Tarth was an interesting man, he and Maegor shared quite a number of private conversations Aeron could only really guess about. Gossip among the commanders was the trusted Stormlander lord was negotiating some sort of deal between the Stormlands and Maegor but it was all hearsay. Hearsay that interested Aeron very little.
If Maegor chose to pursue closer ties with the Stormlands Aeron did not particularly care. His assets were tied up in Old Andalos anyway. He had little care for the seaborne ventures Maegor was preparing with his Magister allies.
"Is it wise to disperse the men like this? Especially with them amongst us?" Jasper said after that and Aeron pondered their Dothraki problem.
Almost a year ago now, Maegor had actually deployed with the Black Company to the Velvet Hills. There was a rogue group of Dothraki who had fled into the region following the battle and it was their job to smoke them out. Both to protect Maegor's ever-growing holdings and as a duty to their employer Pentos.
The Dothraki surrendered almost immediately, however, choosing to kneel to Maegor instead of dying to his dragon. Aeron thought it a wise decision, and it was a decision his house had long since made, even before the Doom.
Now they served as auxiliaries, not formally integrated into the Black Company but they served with them as effective skirmishers. They would be sent to probe enemy lines and harass retreating enemies. Yet their loyalties were still suspect amongst most of the camp. Especially since they were prone to only accept commands from Maegor until he set them straight. Even now they were not participating in the exercises, instead, they lounged around in their own separate corner of the camp.
"They will do nothing, Maegor has made it abundantly clear that if they act out they will be put down like dogs. Not to mention that the men are still armed. Even if they are rather disorganized," Aeron worked to dissuade the fears of his friends and lieutenants. He had spent considerable time with the appointed leader of the Dothraki force and they did seem genuinely loyal to Maegor after he spared them.
"Still a good idea to keep a close eye on them, there must be a reason Prince Maegor did not integrate them into the company," Lord Galladon Tarth said next and Aeron admired the sagely man. He was completely focused on his role and had the experience to back up his decisions.
"Either way, perhaps we should discuss with the engineers, and see how progress is going," Ser Gawen reluctantly offered but Aeron hummed at the thought.
"Truthfully you were not entirely wrong, the men are merely practicing making the constructs. The engineers still plan the construction and it will be Maegor or I who orders them to be built," Aeron said and saw a clear skeptical look on Lord Galladon's face.
Lord Galladon was a welcome addition but it was clear he was not expecting to be placed under the command of someone a third of his age. He, like much of the rest of the army, joined up to serve under Maegor and earn glory. Yet until now they mostly served under him and had done little fighting.
There was some discontent among the camp, with the less experienced men even openly wishing another Free City would be foolish enough to pick a fight, or another Dothraki horde would march west. The more blooded men thought otherwise, as they were currently being paid quite well to march around crushing bandits and other sellsword companies.
Before he could worry about the condition of the army any further. Aeron spotted a frantic rider making his way up the hill, riding his horse clearly to exhaustion. 'The hells?' Aeron could only think as the clearly exhausted rider continued his breakneck gallop.
"Vice-Captain! Vice-Captain!" The exhausted man called out twice and Aeron noted the voice and how he referred to him. Most called him Lord Aeron outside of the company. This must have been one of the men Maegor kept on his guard.
"Yes?" Aeron asked with a quizzical look.
"Prince Maegor! He has been attacked!" the man called out between ragged breaths and Aeron was immediately on edge.
"What!?" Aeron heard from both himself and all his lieutenants and vice lieutenants around him.
"He… asked me… to deliver this," the man said as he finally dismounted from his horse and passed a letter to Aeron.
Before he even began to read it, he spoke to his lieutenants. "Gather the men, we march for Pentos," he spoke with a force of will he rarely had to use.
Lord Galladon and Ser Gawen nodded readily and moved to mount their horses but Jasper remained and gave Aeron a worried look.
"I will find you and the rest of the commanders later, go gather the men," Aeron said with a more stern tone. Balancing his role as Vice-Captain and friend was hard but his military position came first right now.
Jasper nodded and moved to mount his horse as well as Aeron fiddled with the letter. It had Maegor's characteristic green wax seal, so it definitely was a letter from him but Aeron could not help but be concerned.
He ripped open the letter and flipped the paper around to read. The first thing he noticed was it was not Maegor's handwriting, which only worried him further. Scanning the letter he found it was indeed signed by his friend but there was a much more pressing concern.
'A Faceless Man!?' Aeron thought with a myriad of emotions as he shredded the paper in his hands.
"Tell Lord Galladon he is in charge of the army and to take the men to Pentos with all haste. I have to go," Aeron quickly said to the exhausted messenger as he sprinted toward his horse. He needed to get to Pentos, now.
…
It was times like this that made Aeron wish for a dragon of his own. Riding his horse to exhaustion down the Dragon Road to Pentos, Aeron wished he could go faster. The horse ride from Pentos to Ghoyan Drohe was almost a two and ten-hour journey if you were going at a full gallop and swapped horses.
A dragon meanwhile could make the journey somewhere between half the time and a quarter of the time depending on how fast the rider willed it. Maegor would readily fly out to the Velvet Hills to meet with him and the commanders and then return to Pentos in time to dine with his family before bed. It only irked Aeron all the more.
If he had a dragon he would not have had to spend the entire morning and afternoon galloping his horse to exhaustion, a horse he left in a town and swapped for another at great cost. He was well under an hour's distance from Pentos but Aeron was feeling more stressed than he had ever been before.
Maegor, his friend, his brother in all but name, had almost been killed by a Faceless Man. The almost-there shocked Aeron more. It was commonly known that those marked for death by the Faceless Men died, there were no known exceptions.
Yet according to the letter, Maegor had slain the attacker sent against him. Crushed his head between his hands, albeit after suffering some grievous wounds.
The extent of his friend's injuries was not laid out in the letter. All it said was he was alive and he needed Aeron to bring the army to Pentos with all due haste. Aeron was not exactly proud that he dropped responsibility for the army but he could not help it. The army would take days to march from Ghoyan Drohe to Pentos and Aeron needed to check on his friend.
Lord Galladon could surely be trusted to bring the army with haste. He was a stern man with a strong sense of duty to Maegor. He would follow Aeron's orders with no issue. Although Aeron wondered if Maegor would be upset that Aeron left early.
The hours of riding had allowed Aeron to collect himself to a degree but he could not help but worry for his friend. Had he been attacked again during his journey? Just how injured was he that he could not deliver the news himself? Such thoughts raced through Aeron's mind as he continued to push his horse and Pentos drew nearer with every stride.
What would he even say to his friend? Maegor had almost died after all. 'What do you even say to that?' Aeron thought with a sense of dread returning. He had acted irrationally in leaving the army so quickly and the conversation with his friend was sure to be awkward.
All of his other concerns seemed trivial as he could finally spot the colossal walls of Pentos. Built higher than any other Free City besides Volantis due to Pentos's comparatively more vulnerable position, bereft of practically any geographic barriers, unlike almost every other Free City.
Aeron could feel his heart beat louder at the sight. He was nearing his goal as the sun set before him. The walls closed in as he neared the Sunrise Gate. He would have to travel further into the city to find Maegor at the Narratys Manse but he was now just minutes away instead of hours.
Aeron breathed a sigh of relief once he crossed beneath the Sunrise Gate, finally within a reasonable distance of his goal. He only hoped that Maegor was still alive and conscious as the sun was setting in the west.
Aeron continued to gallop his absolutely exhausted horse through the streets and finally made it to the gated mansion of Illyrio Narratys before being stopped by a group of Maegor's guards.
"Halt! Identify yourself!" one guard yelled and Aeron raised an eyebrow in response.
"I am Aeron Velaryon! Vice Captain of the Black Company and friend of Prince Maegor Targaryen," Aeron rolled out his name and position to the guards with a quizzical tone. Could they not tell by his eyes and hair? He was unmistakably Valyrian. Even among the magisters in the city of Valyrian stock, none had features as pure as his own. Mixtures of blue and blonde hair dispersed from occasional breeding with Andals.
"Prove it! Give us the password!" one guard said after lowering his spear and Aeron felt insulted. He was Aeron Velaryon, he had not worked so hard to build his name just for common guards to mistake him for someone else.
'Password?' Aeron thought after momentarily dispelling his anger. There was no mention of a password in the letter Maegor sent. Not even one hidden in code, or at least not one Aeron could remember seeing.
"Prove it!? Go get Prince Maegor and he will confirm my identity!" Aeron decided to try, surely Maegor would know it was him. Even if his daft guards could clearly not tell the difference between a Valyrian descended from Dragon Blood and a dirty imposter.
"We will not! Take off all your weapons and armor and submit to a search. You will wait in our custody until your identity can be confirmed!" the first guard said as four more guards poured out from behind the gate and surrounded his horse.
Aeron let out a sigh before dismounting and handing over his sword. He was not happy to do this but if this was required to check on his friend then so be it.
Aeron unclasped his longsword from his belt and handed it off to one guard before taking off his chest plate. Aeron sighed in defeat as each piece of stunning polished steel armor fell onto the stone ground and no doubt got scratched to the seven hells but he was not trying to get killed by Maegor's guards.
After he was bereft of his armor and weapons. A guard patted down his clothes searching for weapons and Aeron was thoroughly confused. He was Maegor's friend for Seven's sake! Clear as day Valyrian, with purple eyes, an aquiline nose, and the typical silver-gold hair. How could he be mistaken for anyone else?
He was then led into the courtyard and sat on a bench. When a guard told him to wait for his identity to be confirmed. It all confused Aeron greatly. How would his identity be confirmed if Maegor would not come out to confirm it?
He waited for several minutes before he noticed a peculiar sight. There were two dragons in the courtyard. The more familiar Terrax and the frightening sight of an enormous greenish bronze dragon that could only be Vhagar.
'What? Queen Visenya is here too?' Aeron thought with a look of shock on his face. Had she just arrived?
"Lord Aeron, Prince Maegor will see you now," Dick Bean suddenly said as he appeared before him, the formerly small boy, now almost a young man led him into the manse.
They traversed through the labyrinthine walls with haste and Dick Bean rebuffed Aeron's attempts at questioning him. Constantly rebuffed with Dick saying "Prince Maegor will tell you everything."
Aeron was led into a small windowless room and was met with a peculiar sight. Maegor accompanied by the woman Aeron feared the most in the whole world, Visenya Targaryen.
Both looked tired but Maegor's look was striking. He was wearing a different set of armor but his arm was distinctively in a sling. A visibly injured Maegor was a sight he had never seen before. Even the injuries Maegor had sustained fighting against the Giant of the Trident and the Dothraki paled in comparison to this.
"Are you alright Maegor?" Aeron involuntarily asked. Unable to remain silent any longer as Dick Bean retreated out of the room.
"I am, well I wouldn't say alright, but I am alive," Maegor said with a tired look and was met with a glare from his mother. One he returned with a small smile of his own.
"What in the seven hells happened!?" Aeron asked next, awaiting the full picture of events.
"I was attacked two nights ago. A Faceless Man disguised himself as one of my guards and slipped into the manse, after clearing the path we had a fight through the halls of my burning manse before I killed him. I lived thanks to the ceaseless efforts of my wife and mother," Maegor said simply and Aeron was dumbfounded.
"Hold on, do not just gloss over that!" Aeron said with a little frustration in his tone and was stifled by a cold look given to him by Queen Visenya.
"Gloss over what?" Maegor said with a tired look and Aeron only got more frustrated.
"You killed a Faceless Man! You cannot just gloss over that!" Aeron practically yelled before he was cut off by Queen Visenya.
"Yes he can, the faceless coward was too weak to slay my son, that is all you need to know," Queen Visenya answered him with suspicion and venom covering her tone. It was only then that he realized she currently held Dark Sister, and she had her hand on its hilt.
"Calm down Mother, Shiera confirmed he is clean," Maegor said before seeming to settle in his chair more.
"I suppose I will tell you everything, but first. Why are you here and where is the army?" Maegor said with a questioning look of his own and Aeron suddenly started to sweat.
"Forgive me but when I heard you were injured I rushed here, Lord Galladon Tarth is leading the men to Pentos as we speak," Aeron said while placing his eyes anywhere but his own. He had technically disobeyed Maegor's orders.
Maegor sighed loudly before beginning. "Very well, I suppose it is good you are here, I was hoping to pick your brain anyway. Now then, where do I begin," Maegor said while tapping his foot against the ground.
Aeron's mouth hung agape as Maegor finished telling the tale. The Faceless Man being sloppy and Maegor being able to set his blood alight was the only real reason that he was alive right now. All of which could be choked up to luck.
"With all that being said, I am sure you understand why we are acting with such caution now, yes?" Maegor said with a frown and Aeron nodded his head.
Once the whole picture was laid before him. He had made a mistake. Meagor was expecting Aeron to arrive in days not hours and he had acted quite suspiciously when he entered the city bereft of an army or a real way to prove his identity. Had he kept the letter he would have been better off.
"I apologize for leaving the army in the hands of Lord Galladon. I should have followed your orders," Aeron said with a lowered head. He had acted rashly, which was not supposed to happen when you were at the head of an army of nearly ten thousand men.
"Think nothing of it, you chose a good person to have them lead anyway. Now then, it is time we begin planning," Maegor said with a frown.
"Planning for what?" Aeron asked with a sincere tone before his fears were replaced with excitement.
Maegor simply said "War with Braavos," and Aeron could not help but smile. Knowing revenge was well within reach.
Maegor XIV
32AC
The secluded room deep within Illyrio's manse was a natural choice for a meeting amongst my greatest and most important allies. Both to defend against potential spies but also to ensure no Faceless Man catches us unawares.
First among my allies and the woman to my right. My mother was first amongst my allies in the city and more importantly, she was the sole battle-ready dragon rider, along with her extensive military and political experience, not to mention her absolute and unwavering loyalty. My mother was the one person at this table I trusted with not even a hint of doubt.
Second was Aeron, who sat to my left. The de facto captain of the army and conveniently here ahead of schedule, he would be taking part in this more politically focused meeting. His political acumen was not the greatest but he was a trusted voice and I knew he would not betray me.
Third was Rego Draz, my business partner and my de facto master of coin. I was no king but it was Rego Draz who helped me plan and organize my now vast series of estates and investments in this city. Whether they be in businesses, overseas ventures, or lands acquired with my seemingly never-ending supply of gold from Pentos. His loyalty was not quite as secure as Aeron's but he had more to gain with me than against me, so I could trust him decently well.
Finally, there was Illyrio Narratys, a man who I met not long after arriving in Pentos and likely my closest Pentoshi ally, even surpassing Rego. Illyrio had thrown the full weight of his monstrously wealthy and powerful house behind me and I could not be more thankful. I would need to somehow pay him back but otherwise, his loyalty had to be assured. He sank too much money and influence into my cause to betray me now.
So the five of us all sat in a secluded private room. An endless series of papers and documents lay around the table in neat stacks. Ready to be used for this absolute slog of a discussion.
"Shall we begin?" my mother said with a quick glance around the table and everyone readily nodded.
"Indeed, first, you are all fully aware of the protocols that need to be implemented yes? I cannot afford to lose any of you," I said first directed at Aeron, Rego, and Illyrio, as my mother already knew the protocols.
"Yes, I have already implemented them among my guard and your guards have already adopted them," Illyrio began after taking a sip of water. I forbade all alcohol here. Unlike our last big planning meeting two years ago. I could afford no drunken mistakes.
"I will do the same, although my guards are far less trustworthy," Rego said with a frown and I gave one of my own. I could not really afford to lose Rego Draz. He was a rare genius when it came to math and economics in this world and if I lost him I would be losing a nearly irreplaceable asset.
"Aeron, can we spare some guards from the Black Company?" I asked my closest friend in the city.
"I believe so, especially because we will not exactly be marching to war under these conditions," Aeron said with a frown and I agreed wholeheartedly with his displeased sentiment.
The upper crust of Pentos was effectively paralyzed after they awoke from their enraged stupor. The prospect of the Faceless Men going after any of them was terrifying and had effectively ground everything going on in Pentos to a halt.
A profoundly paranoid feeling permeated the city's nobles and magisters. A feeling of suspicion and fear gripped many and much of the city's business and politics had halted almost entirely. It was as if everyone in the city turned into a hermit overnight.
All of this meant that the crippling blow my mother dealt to Braavos may not have been crippling at all. Or at the very least they may have time to recover. The mere threat of the Faceless Men was enough to paralyze Pentos and give Braavos some breathing room.
Even my family was effectively paralyzed, at least while I healed. I had been motivated for revenge during the night after I got attacked but my mother was correct. I was in no shape for combat, my wounds were not minor and I really should not fly unless absolutely necessary until I was healed.
That effectively halved our dragonpower, which was effectively taken off the table because my mother was needed here. She and Shiera were the only ones who could use the glass candles in the required way and the search for more potential users had so far turned up empty.
'Damn it, if only I had Dark Sister with me at the time,' I thought with a frown. If I had my blade, I could have slain my attacker with little issue and would be capable of sortieing out from Pentos to strike at the no doubt rebuilding and bloodthirsty Braavos.
Yet because of my injuries, we were effectively paralyzed for what could be moons, moons Braavos would eagerly use to rebuild their arsenal and fleet and turn their city into a veritable fortress. Not to mention the army they would no doubt raise.
As a result, Pentos and Braavos had effectively entered a phony war. Neither side was willing or capable of attacking the other. Which was not the end of the world but it meant that the war would not be the cakewalk I had hoped for.
"When the army arrives, screen a good number of loyal guards and assign them to Rego. We will also need to disperse some more for each of the lieutenants and their vice lieutenants, along with Gessio and a few others," I told Aeron who nodded readily. He had no interest in dying or losing friends either.
It had reached the point where the people around me were more valuable than assets or coin. Losing a key ally like Illyrio, Rego, or God forbid a friend like Aeron or Jasper would be far more crippling than taking a political loss or appearing cowardly.
"With measures to secure our safety taken, we must discuss the opportunity this war has afforded you," Rego Draz said with a hungry smile and I could only imagine what he was planning.
"Do tell," I returned an exasperated smile of my own. Rego Draz was a greedy man, which was not a horrible thing but it also meant that sometimes I had to temper him.
"Lands taken from Braavos will be plentiful and available, not to mention that war casualties and the occasional traitor or 'traitor' could be dispossessed of their lands and investments," Rego said with a hungry smile and I gave a cursory glance at Illyrio.
It seemed my magister friend had no qualms about dispossessing some of his fellow forty families. 'I suppose so long as he gets a piece of the pie he could care less,' I thought with a smile. Illyrio had been the quickest to adopt my reforms, besides my not using slaves of course.
"I doubt that will go over well in the Conclave," Aeron said next and I regretted not bringing my friend into politics sooner. The situation had changed since my attempted assassination, the faction poised against me was on the back foot, and I intended to capitalize.
"The conclave will not be a problem after this war. If we win over our ancestral foe, Prince Maegor will be entirely untouchable," Illyrio said with a hungry smile of his own, knowing that my victory meant a victory for his family as well.
"So what is the plan then?" my mother picked up right where Aeron left off. She was about as invested into Pentoshi politics as Pentos was so it was convenient they were both here.
"The Prince is already planning his own downfall as we speak, I have heard that he and a group of magisters are planning to do away with me," I said with a small smile. It paid to have friends in this world.
"Then why are we not dealing with him right now? Why let him plan at all?" Aeron asked what my mother was surely about to and Illyrio and I shared a look. We had been planning my political ascension for a little while now and it was finally time an opportunity presented itself.
"We let him plan so we can foil it. If I ascend to the position as Prince of Pentos after the war with Braavos is won, then not only the people but the non-aligned magisters and families will have no choice but to support me. Then their loyalty can be properly secured with the seizing and redistributing of the lands currently held by disloyal families and magisters." That was the general crux of our plan. The dispossession of the faction poised against me would free up hundreds of square miles of land and untold sums of gold ripe for the taking. If it was taken, it could then be used to supplement my widespread support from this war.
"So what then, is your goal to be Prince of Pentos?" my mother asked then. A surprised look on her face.
"Yes," I answered simply. I had made up my mind after I learned of a certain Prince's foolish plotting.
I had been weary to delve deeper into Pentoshi politics but I had little choice in the matter. I lived here and I had a family to provide for. My brother had already proven he could not be relied on and so I had to secure the future of my children for myself.
Perhaps my brother would lift my banishment and perhaps I would even see my beloved Dragonstone restored to me but nothing was a certainty. Which meant I had to prepare for the worst. Taking the title Prince of Pentos was the logical next step. Properly codifying the informal grip I already held over Pentos.
"Seriously? You want that position?" my mother continued her questioning gaze and I coughed into my hand as a response.
"Obviously there will have to be some changes made," I said with a frown.
The current position of Prince of Pentos was almost entirely ceremonial. With his main duties being religious festivals and the barbaric tradition of the maids of the sea and fields. Which would have to be done away with. Not to mention the problematic clause that the people could kill the Prince of Pentos should misfortune befall the city.
All of that would have to be done away with, and the role positioned more as a proper leader of the city. The conclave would also have to be reformed. All in all, it would be an absolute mess of a process but it is the natural progression of my current station.
"Which will coincide with changes to the Conclave as well. Pentos has stagnated like the rest of Old Valyria's daughters. Should we wish to dominate Essos, we will have to change," Illyrio said with a devilish grin and I recalled his plans for reforming the conclave.
Frankly, the conclave was a dysfunctional mess. Competing interests, petty disputes, political pandering, and the thousand other traditions that needed to be followed. All would be done away with or altered once our victory arrived. As massive reforms passed in the midst of a war were not exactly stabilizing. The conclave would need to be depowered to secure my role as Prince of Pentos but Illyrio hardly seemed to care, so long as he was at the top of the new conclave that is.
"The economy, the government, the navy, the army, diplomacy, the hinterlands, the smallfolk, slavery, all of them need reform. Reform that will have effectively no pushback after this war is won and the opposition is done away with," I said with a small smile. I had done some cursory planning over the last two days but now more and more ideas were popping into my head.
"The army?" Aeron said and it seemed I had captured his interest.
"Indeed, Pentos will need a proper, professional force after our victory. No doubt the triumph over Braavos will provoke the remaining daughters of Old Valyria to band together or at least work against us," I said to Aeron clearly and he seemed to catch my meaning.
"And you intend for the Black Company to be the backbone of this expansion," Aeron said simply and I nodded in turn.
Sure dragons were the ultimate trump card. Able to defeat any army on the field and bring essentially everyone and anyone to their knees. But even Old Valyria still had proper armies to enforce her will. If you cannot enforce the laws you proclaim, then you do not truly rule the lands you claim to.
Such was the predicament I found myself in. When Pentos prevailed over Braavos, as it was truly only a matter of if rather than when so long as we kept the Faceless Men away, Pentos would not only have to contend with Volantis and the three whores to her south but also with the newly subjugated Braavos and Norvos.
A professional army would be needed for such a task, especially because Pentos could not bring the same scale of force to bear as Volantis or the three whores. Both of which dwarfed Pentos in total population.
"I see, shall I draw up some plans?" Aeron asked with an excited smile and before I could nod. My mother spoke up.
"Plans for after this war are all well and good, but perhaps we should focus on actually winning it first," she said with a stern look sent my way and I merely shrugged. I suppose I was putting the cart before the horse a little bit.
"First comes first, the Faceless Men must be dealt with and I must heal. Only after that can Pentos march against her foe," I said first and the rest of the table looked incredulous, besides my mother.
"And how long might that be?" Rego asked what both Illyrio and Aeron were thinking but my mother answered.
"Likely a moon or two at least, he has many cuts along his body along with two serious gashes on his arm and chest. Once the wound on his chest has properly healed, he will be fully capable of flying to war once more," my mother gave my medical report with a glare sent my way. The message was clear, I would not be fighting before then unless it was to save my own life or the lives of my wife and children from an attack.
"Then we should focus on doing away with the troublesome not-so-secret weapon of Pentos. Only once they are dealt with can we properly deal with Braavos," I said with a frown, unfortunately, the initiative was firmly held by the faceless men. We effectively could only wait for them to appear. We had no idea of their true number or even if any still survived, even if we suspected the worst.
"Then shall we disperse? Begin preparations for both the war and what will come after?" Rego asked the table. No doubt planning all sorts of potential ventures that will be available after this war.
"We shall, but do remain vigilant, you are no good to me dead," I said, primarily aimed at Rego. Everyone else at the table would remain in Illyrio's manse until the army arrived from Ghoyan Drohe.
Rego nodded his head and stood to leave, I mentally noted that I would need to ask my mother and or Shiera to keep regular tabs on most of my closest allies and friends. The last thing I needed was to share Lord Baelon Targaryen's fate.
…
Wincing as I walked down the hall was no fun. Especially since it was such an alien feeling to me. I rarely got hurt and I never got sick so the dull ache in my arm and chest was a feeling I had never truly experienced before.
Such was one of the actual blessings of being a Targaryen. Less appreciated compared to dragon riding and less well known than the incest but plenty welcome all the same. Especially because I did not need to fear a sudden cold taking my life like it so often did for normal people.
Yet my newly weakened state made me worry. Worry worry worry, it felt like all I had done for the past sennight was worry. Worry about my own safety, the war with Braavos, the Pentoshi preparations, potential saboteurs in the Black Company, and most of all, the safety of my family.
They had come agonizingly close to death twice now. First, the detestable bitch Tyanna had nearly killed my wife and unborn son and now my entire family was at risk of assassination by a random Faceless Man. At seemingly any moment one of the Faceless cowards could take away what was most precious to me.
I had already established the protocols that my great grandfather Daemion had devised to protect oneself from the Faceless Men but our situation was different. Daemion could afford to completely close the castle of Dragonstone, and even close the port of the town below the fortress. Dragonstone could afford to survive on its own, albeit with rationing and the occasional shipment from Driftmark.
The situation was far different in Pentos. The most troubling thing was the lack of safety in Illyrio's Manse. It was a walled mansion, with some decent security but it was nothing like Dragonstone Castle, which had only two entrance points. Meanwhile, a Faceless Man could theoretically scale any wall of this manse at basically any time.
It caused not only me but my entire family and group of friends and allies an overwhelming amount of stress. The protocols made it unlikely I would suffer the same fate as Lord Baelon Targaryen but my family could still be at risk.
Doubling the guards and implementing reforms like passwords, mandatory groups of four men, along with regular stops and frisking did help to assuage some fears but the paranoia hung in the air like a particularly rancid smell.
'Of course, that cannot be my only concern,' I thought with a frown as my hand hovered near the door to my new chambers. I figured Shiera was already asleep in there, and I would have to be very quiet not to wake her or our children who were sharing our room.
Shiera had long since entered into a spiral of some sort. I could tell after my mother's explosive tirade after the Tyanna incident that she had been overcorrecting, I had hoped that more time away from my mother would allow her to mellow into a proper, healthy equilibrium but the constant stress seemed to have only worsened it.
Shiera had gone from a hard worker to a workaholic. She had basically zero rest all day and would almost exclusively focus on using the glass candle. She and my mother shared shifts using the magical device because I was incapable of using it in the needed way. I could produce fire using the candle but that was essentially it. The more intricate uses of the candle were beyond my capabilities, and as a result, I felt so damn helpless.
I was incapable of fighting, incapable of debating in the conclave, and I was barely even leaving Illyrio's manse due to fears of the Faceless Men. It irked me endlessly, especially because Shiera's usage of the device in particular was taking a toll on her health.
She was obsessing over the Faceless Men, not that I could blame her but it was both taking a toll on her health and taking her away from time with our children. Her eyesight in particular had begun to worsen. Temporary blindness could be a symptom of overuse but Shiera's regular eyesight began to worsen as well. On top of missing meals, overuse of the glass candle, poor sleep, and essentially zero rest. Shiera was basically falling apart before my eyes. Which I could not very well let stand.
My mother stepped up where she could. We had implemented one of Daemion's more ambiguous reforms. Using dragons to test everyone entering the manse. Dragons, as creatures of magic, could not be fooled with glamors or the face-stealing cowards currently trying to kill us. So having Terrax or Vhagar smell and get a good look at everyone entering the manse was a good way to screen potential attackers.
My mother also used the glass candle extensively, unfortunately, Shiera both had more stamina and was not needed in war meetings and planning sessions so it was typically Shiera who got the lion's share of time on our two glass candles.
The worst part of it all was I could not very well make her stop. Vigilance on the glass candles was the most reliable way of keeping us safe. Coupled with my lacking ability, I was caught between a rock and a hard place.
Do I tell my wife to step back and lessen her usage? Which could very well lead to a lapse in coverage. Or do I continue to let her defend our family using magic while she withered away? Such was my predicament.
As I slowly opened the wooden door and slipped inside our dark room. I could not help but worry about Shiera and our sons. They were in danger here in Pentos. Grievous danger that I could not properly protect them from.
I had a myriad of plans and ideas when it came to the future of Pentos and my family's position in it. Yet when it came to ideas to protect my family in our current circumstances, I had nothing.
Our manse by the sea was a burned-out husk. Which could take moons to repair. We were hosted in an unfamiliar manse with less trustworthy guards mixed in among our own. There were powerful people within the city planning our demise as we slept and worst of all. We were being hunted by magical assassins who were unmatched in their craft.
We had no idea of how many were out there, where they were, or what they were planning. We did not even know if they were after me exclusively or after my mother or after all of us. I hoped beyond. hope that they were only after me but I suspected otherwise.
If they were just after me I could almost sleep easy. With my wife and children out of harm's way, I could focus solely on the war effort and my own protection. But as it stood, I had to place their safety above my own, I literally could not help it.
As I slipped into bed beside my wife, I continued to wrack my brain. How could I keep them safe? How could I protect the three most important people in my life? What could I do?
Our manse in the Velvet Hills was out. Not only was I not flight-worthy, but the manse was surrounded by woods and hills, all too easy for an assassin to slip through. Not to mention I was needed within the city to plan for the war and what came after.
Our current space was also untenable. Illyrio's hospitality was a favor I would repay someday but frankly, his manse was inadequate. Too many flaws and his guards were simply not as reliable as my own. Not to mention the precarious position of the manse closer to the center of the city as opposed to my old one.
'What do I do?' I thought as I wrapped one arm around my soundly sleeping wife and pulled her close. I needed to keep her and my sons safe, I would do anything to do so. That was my duty as a husband and as a father. How to do it would just have to be a question I continued to ask.
Aenys VII:
32AC
As Aenys barreled toward the door of the Small Council chamber. He mentally resolved himself, ignoring the terrified feeling in his gut and focusing solely on the worry for his brother.
The Kingsguard guarding the door made no move to stop him as Aenys practically crashed into the wooden doors of the chamber of the Painted Table. Their move to Dragonstone was all but complete and Small Council meetings had moved to the Chamber of the Painted Table.
With a *THUD*, he hit the door and pressed with all his might. He could hear the distinctive voice of his father inside and that was his goal. He had to speak with his father, he had no time to waste.
The doors swung open when Aenys pushed them and suddenly all eyes in the room were on him. He quietly gulped at the sudden attention before gathering his courage.
"Ahem, Father, I would like to speak with you privately," Aenys said in the calmest tone he could manage. Maegor used to tell him to fake confidence when he was nervous, and it was high time he started trying.
"We are a little busy right now Aenys, what is troubling you?" Aegon looked surprised to see him. Despite his father's increased efforts to get Aenys more involved. He was still allowed to skip most Small Council meetings when he wished to.
"Father, Maegor has been attacked in Pentos," Aenys said with a forced stern look. He knew bringing up his brother in his father's presence would only anger him but he had no choice. He needed to act, as his brother needed his help now more than ever.
Surprisingly his father paled at the news. Quickly shifting his eyes around the room before dismissing all of his counselors in attendance. "Leave us," he said simply and everyone in the room was quick to do so. All except for Ser Corlys of course.
After the room was emptied, his father turned to Aenys and gave him a serious look. "Tell me everything," was what he said.
"Maegor was attacked in the night by a Faceless Man just over a sennight ago. I have heard he is alive but his manse has burned down and Braavos has declared war after Aunt Visenya struck them in the night. We need to bring him home Father," Aenys said with all the courage he could muster. His brother was in danger. He had to help him.
"Of course, she attacked Braavos without a second thought, we will have to inform Lord Aethan to prepare his fleet in the event of a Braavosi response," his father seemed to almost ignore his plea, instead focusing on the actions of his aunt Visenya.
"Father! We need to bring them all home!" Aenys pleaded again, he could not allow his father to dictate the course of this conversation or Aenys would never get the chance.
"No," his father said instantly. Sparking a rare instance of rage in Aenys.
"No?" Aenys asked, rage appearing in his voice.
"No, I will not bring him back," his father said simply and Aenys could not understand why.
"Why Father!! Why not bring him home!? He and his family are in danger, surely you must know that I intend to bring him home when I ascend the throne. What is stopping you?," Aenys finally pushed away his fear. He needed to know. Did his father have an actual reason? Or was his father genuinely just heartless?
"Because I can't bring Maegor back, not after what he did," his father said through grit teeth but that did not answer Aenys's answer.
"Why? Why Father? Tell me why you cannot," Aenys pleaded. He could not understand why his father was so immovable on this.
"Do you still not understand what he did Aenys? After all these years?" his father seemed almost shocked.
"I understand that he made a foolish mistake, and angered you greatly but why still forsake him? Surely nobody would raise an issue, especially to you," Aenys truly did not understand. Why was his father so adamant about this?
"Tell me Aenys, what if your son Aegon betrayed your trust? What if he went behind your back and humiliated you in front of hundreds of potentially rebellious nobles? Would you just shrug your shoulders and move on? I worked for years, spent untold time preparing the best life I could for my son. I gave him this very island, a worthy bride, I lavished him with prestige and honors, and when I presented a choice to him, to choose between exile with the woman who seduced him or his position, his island, and his family, he chose to leave. I will not bring him back," his father's tone was stern, commanding, and unwavering. Leaving little room for Aenys to argue.
But he had to all the same, he could not just leave his brother for dead in the east. Fighting against Faceless Men? Dothraki was one thing but fighting undetectable assassins was too much. His brother could be killed at any time.
"So you are sentencing him to death? He is fighting against Faceless Men, Father! Surely you do not wish for him to die?" Aenys pleaded.
"He chose his path, his reckless actions in the east prompted a response from Braavos. Besides, House Targaryen has faced off with the Faceless Men before. With my sister there, he will live," his father's tone returned to indifference. Aenys noted his father not using his aunt's name. He wondered if his Aunt Visenya was just as indifferent toward his father.
'What can I do?' Aenys thought with despair. He had to help his brother somehow, he and his family were in danger in Pentos. Every moment they spent there was a moment they were in danger. He could not abandon his family to go fight. Yet he could not convince his father to bring Maegor home either.
'His family… His FAMILY,' Aenys thought before springing back to life. As if getting his second wind.
"Father! What about Maegor's family? His wife and sons are in Pentos too, just as at risk as he is. Maegor and Aunt Visenya may have angered and forsaken you, but what about his sons? Surely you will not sentence your grandsons to a potential death at the hands of the Faceless Men?" Aenys begged his father.
Aenys noticed his father pale again at the mention of Aenys' nephews. They were innocent of Maegor's faults. Surely his father would not allow them to be in danger in the east. At the very least they could offer the safety of Westeros.
"We have more than enough space to house them on Dragonstone. They will be safe here for the duration of the war. Not to mention my children can properly meet their cousins." Aenys pleaded with all his might. If he could provide protection to Maegor's children, that would be enough.
"...Very well, write a letter and prepare their rooms. But do not get your hopes up," his father said after a moment of hesitation and Aenys felt like he could jump for joy.
"Thank you, Father! I will write to him now," Aenys said as he turned on his heel and practically ran out of the room. He had to get that letter written and sent as soon as possible. The sooner Maegor's children got out of harm's way the better.