A song of Fire and Blood

292 AC - Lys

Chapter 15: Lords of the Sea and Fire

Lys was a city of pleasure and excess, and no wedding was grander than that of Lord Monford Velaryon and Lysarra Rogare.

The great hall of the Rogare estate was lavish beyond words, the ceilings painted with gold and sapphire, the floors covered in silken carpets from Yi Ti. The feast stretched from one end of the room to the other, a parade of spiced meats, fresh fruits, and Myrian red wine that flowed like a river.

Prince Aerion Targaryen, only twelve, yet already carrying himself as a warrior and a ruler, sat at the high table beside Ser Clement Celtigar, Lord of Claw Isle, who was already deep into his third cup of wine.

Clement, cheeks flushed red, leaned in with a grin. "It's a damn shame, Aerion. You're the only one at this table who hasn't bedded a woman yet."

Aerion raised a brow, sipping his wine. "I didn't realize you had suddenly become an expert in such matters, Clement."

Clement laughed, throwing an arm around him. "I am now! And let me tell you, my prince, you are missing out. I had my first taste just last week in the pleasure houses of Lys."

Aurane Waters, sitting across from them, smirked. "Only once? Gods, I thought you'd be buried under a pile of women by now, Clement."

Clement grinned, waving his cup. "I was taking my time, savoring the moment! Not all of us have to rush like desperate sailors, Aurane."

The table erupted in laughter, and even Aerion smirked.

Across the hall, Thoros of Myr was already deep into his drinking, challenging a Lysene noble to a drinking contest while Naeron Qoherys, the Skull Knight, simply observed the madness with his usual quiet amusement.

As the night went on, the musicians played faster, the dancers moved wilder, and the warriors of the Dragon Company drank deeper.

And in the heart of it all, Aerion watched his men—his family—grow stronger with each passing year.

The morning after the wedding, in a private chamber lined with Lysene silk, the leaders of the Dragon Company gathered.

Seated around the great marble table were:

Prince Aerion Targaryen the StarbornSer Barristan Selmy the BoldSer Clement Celtigar, Lord of Claw Isle, Aerion's sworn brotherLord Monford Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, now bound to Lys through marriage.Naeron Qoherys, the Skull Knight, commander of the Dragon CompanyAurane Waters, vice-admiral of the fleetThoros of Myr, the fiery warrior priestKinvara, the Red Priestess, watching from the shadows

The room was filled with the scent of Myrish spiced wine and parchment as they began their discussion.

Barristan spoke first. "Six years of war, and we are richer and stronger than ever."

Monford nodded. "Our coffers hold over seven million honors(currency of Volantis). Most of it from Volantis paying us to raid their Ghiscari rivals—Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor."

Aurane leaned back. "And let's not forget our fleet—113 warships, all built in Volantis, all ready for war."

Naeron Qoherys, his voice sharp and measured, added, "Our army stands at twenty-five thousand strong. Sixteen thousand are our veteran warriors, the rest are freed slaves from Slaver's Bay—men we trained and armed."

Barristan nodded approvingly. "And they are not just rabble. We have trained them well. They fight like seasoned soldiers now."

Clement grinned. "We also have eight thousand cavalry, four thousand archers, and the rest infantry. All equipped with fine steel from the Mott family."

Aurane smirked. "Speaking of which, our contract in Qohor was a damn good deal. We brought back the entire Mott clan—two hundred and fifty-four of the best smiths in the Free Cities. No one makes steel like they do."

Barristan's eyes hardened. "And we did what no one has done before—we defeated the Unsullied. Their perfect discipline broke before our might."

Thoros laughed, slamming his cup down. "Aye! And we turned the Red Wastes into a graveyard for the Dothraki!"

Kinvara, her ruby eyes gleaming, finally spoke. "But you must know... a great Khal is rising in the east. He is uniting the scattered hordes. Soon, the Free Cities will tremble before him."

Naeron folded his arms. "Let them come. We have already crushed thirteen khalasars in the past three years. We will crush another."

Monford shrugged. "The south has gone quiet. The Dothraki rarely raid there anymore. They are moving north."

Aurane smirked. "Let them kill each other. We have bigger plans."

Aerion sat in silence, listening. The Dragon Company had become more than a band of mercenaries.

They were lords of war.

They had gold, ships, and steel.

They had an army that could shake the Free Cities.

And soon, the world would know their name.