Game Of Thrones: The Dragon Targaryen

Aelor Targaryen stared at the opening line of the letter in disbelief.

"It fell? The bloody thing is seven hundred feet tall and leagues wide! What knocked it down, an aggressive wind?"

King Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name, was seated at the head of the long table in his tent, head in his hands. Snow was falling outside—snow was always falling outside—and the lantern beside him was the only source of light. His nephew had aged in the months they'd spent trapped in the north; he had lost nearly a stone of weight that wasn't there to be lost in the first place, and his face was harder than it had been on the onset of the campaign. "Keep reading. Jaehaerys mentions something of a 'magic horn'."

Aelor collapsed into the seat at his right hand, taking the wineglass D.i.c.kon Tarly instantly offered him. The vintage tasted particularly good after the weeks he'd spent trapped in the north without any, there supply an early casualty of the weeks spent digging. "A magic horn? A f.u.c.k.i.n.g magic horn brought down a structure that has stood for millennia?"

Aegon gestured towards the letter with one hand, forehead still resting in the other, his eyes closed tightly. Aelor imagined the King already had the headache Aelor himself felt coming on. "So Jaehaerys says, and I see no reason why he should lie to us. D.i.c.kon, rouse the council. This changes everything." The squire rushed to obey, leaving the two Targaryen commanders alone for a few minutes, aside from Ser Balon Swann standing guard outside the tent.

Aelor quickly read the rest of the letter, feeling both immense relief when he read his son Aemon was among the living and immense grief when he read that his son's namesake wasn't. That grief was compounded when Robb Stark was listed among the missing.

Jaehaerys' words were short and to the point, and their abrupt delivery as much as their content caught the Hand of the King unawares. "He allowed them through?"

Aegon finally removed his head form his hands, slouching back into his chair and finishing his own glass of wine in three long gulps. "My dear brother was convinced that the wildlings weren't a true threat. I imagine he saw his actions as protecting them, though he never says it outright. Whatever his reasons, the Wall came down on top of both the Free Folk and our own men. While no one knows the exact number of casualties, all agree they are tremendous. What's more, he is—"

Aelor had been reading the letter as well as listening to the King's word, and they arrived on the same topic at the same time. "He's evacuating the north. All of it."

"And he alongside Lord Stark are remaining in Winterfell to try and 'stem the tide'. He's going to get himself killed."

Aelor let the letter fall to the table, staring down at it in disbelieving thought. "So we have an entire region, from the smallfolk to the Lord Paramount's family, descending on our heads, accompanied by a passel of wildlings and their children and a horde of ice demons behind them. They'll all need places to sleep and food to eat; the living ones, anyway."

Aegon nodded, reaching across the table to take his uncle's untouched wineglass and knocking back another hefty gulp from it. "They are stripping the castles and towns of the north of food as they come, but yes, that is our predicament. All the while Viserys advances on us."

Another voice came from the mouth of the tent, Alaric Langward the first member of the war council to enter. "Aye, and he has the advantage in cavalry. I finished the count of living mounts we have left, including those of Lord Arryn's men."

Aelor looked to his former squire and old friend, grasping onto talk of real numbers and logistics instead of ice demons and falling walls. While Aelor had believed there truly was something on the other side of the Wall, he had never expected it to chase the living out of the north. "And?"

Alaric took a seat beside Aelor, running a hand through his shaggy black hair. He too had lost weight, though he had even less to begin with than Aegon. "Over half of our mounts went down before we dug our way out, and most of the rest are still coming back from the brink of death. Only the fiercest of our beasts still have their strength to them. I make it eight hundred mounted if we count the half-dead ones, less than three if we don't. Lord Arryn brings an additional thousand, but reports put Viserys at twice again our number, more if you count the reputed elephants."

Aelor and Aegon cursed at the same time, both slamming a fist against the table. The King spoke. "The snows aren't nearly as bad down here as they were in the North, but they certainly aren't light either, and it is getting colder every day. We're bound to lose a few more before we engage the enemy."

Aelor grunted. "Even when we do, none of us have any experience fighting elephants. Most of us have never seen elephants. If Viserys is smart he'll charge them at the levy lines. They'll throw down their spears and run as if the Stranger himself was pursuing them."

Jon Arryn, aging but still capable, entered the tent. He and ten thousand men split from the defense of the Riverlands had been waiting at the Twins, uniting with Aelor and Aegon not quite a week past. Behind him walked his son Artys, heir to the Vale, rubbing the sleep from his Tully blue eyes. The boy and his twin sister were not identical but still looked much alike, Aelor remembered, save for her hair being red and Artys' the color of cornsilk. His father spoke as the two Arryns took their seats. "I take it things have changed, Your Grace. By your faces, I wager it was for the worst."

They waited until the entire council had assembled. Randyll Tarly was present as chief general, Lord William Dustin and Ser Wylis Manderly as representatives of the five thousand northerners camped around them. Renlor and Baelon, the first half-awake and the second looking as if it were the middle of the day instead of the darkest hours of night, were present due to their Targaryen blood, though both were expected to keep their silence. Ser Karyl Vance, whose daughter and heir Liane was being held captive my Viserys, had been the only riverlord to accompany Jon Arryn, the others focused on defending their homeland, and was representing his region. Three of the Kingsguard—Barristan the Bold, Oswell Whent and Balon Swann—rounded out the council.

Arthur Dayne and Rolland Storm, the only other surviving members of the Kingsguard now that Borran of the Bramsfort was considered dead, were with Alysanne, Daenerys and the others in the Vale, though a raven had been sent to recall them both to their King's side. While neither Aelor nor Aegon wanted to leave the Royal Family without one of the sworn swords, it was agreed that they would both be needed in the coming battles more than they would be in the near impregnable Eyrie or Gates of the Moon. The detachment of twenty knights that accompanied Ser Arthur south months ago would remain to supplement the Arryn men as protection.

Aegon repeated the news in Jaehaerys' letter bluntly and nearly verbatim, and Aelor watched the shock and disbelief as it dawned on each of their faces. Karyl Vance gave voice to the thought the rest of them almost certainly were thinking. "You can't be serious."

Aegon met his eyes and held them to prove his sincerity, though neither Targaryen kingpin could blame the disbelief. They had, of course, warred with it themselves. "I wish I wasn't, Ser Karyl, but my brother's leader was accompanied by confirmation from Lord Eddard Stark. Whatever the why or the how, the Wall has fallen, and a much greater enemy than my uncle Viserys is marching towards us. I don't ask your acceptance of this as truth, my lords; I fully understand your disbelief, but I do ask what you would council me to do if you did."

Aelor had stood and walked to the northern half of the map, taking the pieces symbolizing their armies there and sliding them all into a line on the Kingsroad, south of Winterfell. "The armies we left in the north, including the northerners who had been on watch for the Ironborn, are now all coming this way. That being said, these pieces are a gross misinterpretation of our true strength in fighting men; we don't know just how many of our forces were killed when the Wall fell, but it is safest to assume a catastrophic number."

He motioned towards the Riverlands and the pieces, black for friendly and red for foe, scattered across its coast. "Lord Stannis has defeated two large Ironborn Fleets, and that has put the rest of them on the defensive. From all reports the raiders have ceased their raiding for the time being, massing their strength to try and counter our own fleets. While that in theory frees up enough men to astronomically outnumber Viserys, it in reality does little for us. The forces under Lord Tully, Tyrion Lannister and Jason Mallister have gone on the offensive, trying to drive the Ironborn out of the many holdings they have secured in the Riverlands and Westerlands. The armies of the Reach are doing the same, and even if they weren't they are much too far away to assist us with Viserys."

Finally, Aelor gestured to the cl.u.s.ter of black pieces around Wycombe, where they currently sat, and the cl.u.s.ter of red around Maidenpool, where Viserys had last been seen. The latter information was shaky however; the outriders of the Golden Company were good, and had managed to eliminate any scouts sent to keep further tabs for the last week and a half. It had prompted Aelor to send Bronn and his best retainers out. I could use Lucas Flowers, but odds are he's dead now. "We cannot leave Viserys free to roam south of us. Prince Jaehaerys' plan is to set up defensive lines at the Neck; it is sound, and our best chance should the worst of the rumors be true. But Viserys doesn't have the knowledge of the goings on in the North, and even if he did his focus is entirely on eliminating us. We draw him into battle or he draws us; either way, he must be dealt with. A unified Westeros will be needed for the wars to come, and a unified Westeros can never be attained if two Targaryens are calling themselves king."

Aegon gestured towards the city of his birth. "King's Landing, which has been the Golden Company's only true victory thus far, is of no further consequence. Viserys willingly conceded it to Prince Oberyn when he set out after us. The Dornish reported they are already moving out of the Boneway to retake it from the token force left behind. Viserys must mean to engage us soon; his only hope of achieving victory now would be the death of me and Aelor, and all of Aelor's sons to boot."

Randyll Tarly nodded, eyes absorbing the map and its pieces. "Aye, Your Grace. The archers and cavalry that slowed Lord Arryn's march to join us have disappeared, likely to regroup with his main force. Whether Viserys learned enough strategy to see it or not, the Golden Company commanders certainly understand they can't let the other armies merge with our own. They need to remove the heads of the true Targaryen rulers before their substitute can reign."

Aegon sighed loudly. "And now I have to worry about an army of undead demons coming from the other direction. Trenches must be built, firepits…I can't well focus on that enemy while Viserys roams the south. As my uncle said, he must be brought to heel before I can focus on the Others, yet I cannot ignore the preparations that must be made in the North."

Jon Arryn was focusing on the figures representing the other loyalist forces on the shores of the Riverlands, focused mainly around Kanet and Eagle's Cape. "I understand the d.e.s.i.r.e of the riverlords to recapture their homeland, and how Lord Tyrion must wish to push down into the embattled Westerlands, but now that the eminent threat of more reavers furthering their conquests is over they must realize the Ironborn hold is temporary. We are outnumbered—slightly, but still outnumbered—by Viserys. Their men will be of more use fighting alongside us, both in destroying Viserys and countering whatever it is coming towards us from the north, before we can all focus on destroying the rest of the Ironborn. When we split up originally it was because the reavers were still terrorizing new targets; now their threat is occupied."

Ser Karyl shook his head. "I understand your point, Lord Arryn, and it is accurate. But our people are suffering atrocities under the Ironborn, and few men—myself included—would be able to see past that. I am here because my daughter is held captive in King's Landing…or she was, in any case. My stake is in the instant defeat of Viserys and the safe return of Liane. The other riverlords have their stakes in the defeat of the Ironborn, and relieving their families and people who have been fighting or suffering for months. They will not care for rumors of demons in the north, even if they should."

King Aegon nodded slowly, though his face was a grimace. "I was trapped in the north whole my people were slaughtered. I can understand why they may see me as unable to defend them now."

Lord Commander Barristan the Bold cut the Kings self-censure short. "You are the King, Your Grace. If you order Lords Edmure and Tyrion to your side, they are duty-bound to come. I don't foresee them shirking that duty."

Aegon stared at the table for a long while before speaking again. "Viserys has me outnumbered, slightly but outnumbered all the same. His men are in better condition than mine, as are his horses. His army consists of a corps of hardened mercenaries, and a plethora of young lords with vendettas against me."

Against me, you mean. I'm the reason the Bucklers and Paynes and Hasty's have risen up. Aelor thought it but didn't say it, as every man at the table already knew anyway. The King spoke on, oblivious to his uncle's thoughts. "Even if Viserys is the one to assault me, wherever it is we meet in battle, he holds an advantage. I need Lord Edmure here if I am to be victorious."

Alaric gestured towards the wide expanse of land between their current location and the rest of Lord Edmure's forces. "If I may point out, Your Grace, it would take many days for their infantry to reach us. Viserys has tipped his hand; he means to try and eliminate you soon, and while we can't confirm it we all know his army is near. And that still does not resolve the main question of this council; what do we do in the north?"

The Dragon of Duskendale grunted as it suddenly dawned on him. It should be clear to us all; we faced it for several cold months. "We ignore it."

Aegon c.o.c.ked a brow. "Ignore Jaehaerys' letter? Ignore those coming south for safety?"

Aelor nodded, violet eyes locked on his nephew's. "Yes. What is the entire reason we are so depleted, both in spirit and horseflesh? Because it took us months to make it south in those snows. It will take those fleeing now weeks as well, as the snows are only growing. They'll have something of our trail to follow, but the progress will still be slow as the storms have only increased in ferocity. I don't know what a wight truly is or what powers it, but I imagine it still has to move something like a man does. It will take them time as well to walk or claw or burrow to us. We're looking at this as if the Others are on our doorstep, when in reality they are months away."

Aegon had pursed his lips in thought. "There are still trenches to be dug, traps to be set…"

"Lord Tarly and I built dozens of catapults and dug scores of siege lines in a matter of a few days at Casterly Rock and Lannisport. We had thousands of men to do it; when the time comes, so will you. Viserys is the threat, Your Grace. He is the one we need to eliminate first; not the White Walkers, not the Ironborn. Viserys."

Murmurs of agreement filled the tent, and Aegon slowly nodded. "You are right uncle. Baelon, order both ravens and riders sent to Lords Edmure and Tyrion. They are march with all haste to join us at Harrenhal if we can get there; we will keep on our toes and Viserys at an arm's length as long as we can, but they are to move as quickly as possible. We can only forego combat so long. Send another to the Dornish; once Prince Oberyn recaptures King's Landing, he is only to leave just enough men to manage it in my stead before he marches towards us as well. The Reach will take over the cleansing of the Ironborn; they will work from their own lands north, and join us at the Neck if they can make it in time. Quickly now."

Jon Arryn looked to the King. "Do you think Lord Edmure will make it before Viserys draws us in?"

Lord Wyllis, nearly as round as his father had been but fierce of spirit, spoke up for the first time, fiddling with the silver and sapphire trident holding his sizable cloak together. "Order his cavalry to leave the infantry behind, Your Grace. A fully mounted force will reach us much quicker, and even the odds against us by quite a bit."

Randyll Tarly and Aelor both grunted their approval, though the former spoke first. "Yes, Your Grace. Your uncle led cavalry the long way into the Westerlands while I led the infantry the short all those years ago. He still nearly beat me there."

Aegon gestured towards Renlor, who had woken up considerably over the talk of strategy. "Go catch Baelon and make the adjustments, Ren." Aegon leaned back towards the map as his cousin strode from the tent. "Now all we need to do is find out just where Viserys is waiting."

An accented voice answered from the front of the tent, snow-covered cloak glistening as he stepped into the light of the tent. "I believe I can help with that." Bronn dropped a leather saddlebag onto the table. "I pulled some letters off of a few dead ravens and a few living men, though they joined the ravens soon after. After reading them I went to take a looksee myself. Turns out they were right."

Bronn had a knack for the dramatic, but Aelor was too tired to sate the man's need for a scene. "Just tell us, Bronn."

The sellsword shrugged. "You're no fun. Our King wannabe is only a few days south of us, near Lord Harraday's Town or Barrowvay's Town…some name such as that."

Aegon filled in the gap, face already starting to grimace at the proximity of Viserys. "Lord Harroway's Town."

"Aye, that one. Lots of tents, lots of horses, lots of fires; he's got a bloody big force. According to these," he said, thumping the dripping sack, "he's heading our way. Turns out he has a destination already in mind."

Bronn looked directly at Aelor. "A ford, filled with rubies."