NOVEL NEXT Chapter 28: The Storm is coming
Chapter 28: The Storm is coming
The Dragon Fleet Sets Sail
The Wyvern, Aerion Targaryen's flagship, cut through the waters of the Narrow Sea, its black sails embroidered with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen billowing in the wind. The sea was calm, but Aerion's mind was anything but.
From the sterncastle, he looked over his fleet—337 ships strong. Over half of them were trade ships, now filled with the 8,000 Lyseni women they had freed. They would find refuge in Braavos or elsewhere, wherever they wished.
His army of 31,000 soldiers filled the war galleys and cogs, a force of pure Valyrian steel, the greatest sellsword company the world had ever seen.
At the front of the formation, ten ships sailed ahead, cutting through the waves like silent sentinels. Each of them bore a dark secret—the slavers and traitorous nobles of Lys, chained and bound. Their fate was sealed.
Aerion exhaled slowly, watching the distant horizon. They were finally leaving Lys behind, but the war was only just beginning.
King's Landing – The Baratheon Council
In the Red Keep, King Robert Baratheon slammed his fist against the table.
"Three hundred bloody ships! The Targaryen brat sails the Narrow Sea with a fleet larger than my own!"
His council sat in silence as the King paced, his face red with rage.
Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, let out a heavy sigh, his once strong frame now weakened by age and illness.
"Robert, you are King," he said, his voice firm but slow. "You cannot abandon the realm to sail off into battle like a common sellsword."
Robert scowled. "And why not? I killed the last dragon myself! I'll kill this one too!"
Stannis Baratheon, standing beside his chair, spoke. "Your Grace, we already have a fleet."
Robert glared at his younger brother. "You want me to sit here while some Valyrian whelp sails unchecked?"
"Not unchecked," Jon Arryn countered. "We will send Stannis and Renly. They have the might of the royal fleet and the Stormlands behind them. That should be enough."
Robert hesitated, clenching his jaw. Then he grunted. "Fine. But don't fail me."
The Royal Fleet Sets Sail
The Fury, King Robert's personal warship, led the Royal Fleet, though Robert himself was not aboard. Stannis Baratheon, grim and unyielding, stood at its helm.
Beside them, the Stormdoe, commanded by Renly Baratheon, sailed proudly.
240 ships strong, the Royal Fleet and the Stormlander navy moved in unison, their sails catching the wind as they neared their target.
Renly, only nineteen, lacked the discipline of his older brother, but he wore his confidence like armor.
Then, he saw them.
A small group of nine ships ahead—scouting vessels or perhaps stragglers from the Targaryen fleet.
Renly turned to his bannermen. "They're only scouts! If we strike first, we can cripple them before Stannis engages!"
Without waiting for a reply, he ordered his Stormlander fleet to attack.
The battle for the Narrow Sea had begun.