Tyrosh.
"My lord, we caught another batch."
"Should we hang them?"
Stafford wiped blood from his face and gave his report.
Tywin rode a powerful white horse in full armor, red cloak hanging forward, and said calmly, "Not enough rope for all of them. Send every last one to the port. They can repair the trenches instead of the soldiers."
On the streets he had just ridden through, two rows of gallows stood with bodies swinging like grotesque decorations. Those had been the spies who stirred the slaves into rioting.
Tywin's face was cold and hard. His breastplate was streaked with blood. He had spent the last several days personally leading charges to crush the uprisings.
Even so, the situation stayed uncertain.
"The Myrish are coming in force. Hundreds of ships have Tyrosh bottled up tight. All we can do is hold the gates and wait for the Iron Throne's help."
Tywin's brow stayed furrowed.
He ordered Stafford to pull five hundred men to the port to reinforce the front line.
In just ten days the port had fallen twice. Only Tyrosh's tall, thick outer walls had let Kevan take it back each time.
Boom—
The port battle erupted again.
Kradara commanded from the rear, directing the Myr fleet to surround the harbor completely. Dozens of catapults took turns pounding the defenses.
"You. Get up there!"
After the bombardment, Kradara grabbed a Myr sellsword officer and shoved him forward as the tip of a suicide charge.
The officer, terrified of his admiral's cruelty, pulled two hundred archers and three hundred sailors into a rush at the port.
"Loose!"
Stannis held the line and sent a volley of arrows into the men trying to land.
Puff! Puff!—
Over a hundred Myr sellswords dropped dead. The rest split. Some kept charging. The rest turned and ran.
Stannis focused on the ones still coming and let the cowards flee.
"First wave's done probing. The main assault comes next."
Kevan stood beside him, already used to the enemy commander's reckless style.
Stannis watched the hundreds of ships outside and said flatly, "Kradara's scum. Doesn't give a damn about his men's lives."
He paused. "But he has more bodies than we do. A war of attrition favors him."
Using men as ammunition looked insane to anyone watching.
Kradara didn't care.
Both Stannis and Kevan preferred disciplined fighting. They hated the tactic, but they had no good answer for it.
They had no ships. The royal fleet was with Lord Lucerys in the Stepstones. All they could do was sit behind the walls.
"You! You! Move!"
Kradara watched his second wave get cut down and felt a rush of savage excitement. He grabbed two Tyroshi sellsword officers and forced them onto the battlefield.
The two officers each led several hundred men. The moment they landed they lit fire-oil arrows and sent them arcing toward the defenders pulling back to the walls.
Stannis didn't flinch when a flaming arrow hissed past his head.
"I'll go push the men."
Kevan headed off to take direct command.
Stannis gave a short nod and kept his eyes on the fight, ready to adjust.
They worked well together.
"Hold until night. These bastards will pull back."
Stannis had their pattern figured out. No need to rush. Just wait until they were exhausted.
"Seven Kingdoms men. Bunch of turtles hiding in their shells."
Kradara's face was dark. He lowered his telescope, frustrated by the stalemate.
"General, look behind us!"
A soldier's urgent shout cut through the noise. The deep horn for full alert followed.
Kradara spun around.
A fast vanguard fleet was coming straight at their rear.
He raised the telescope and recognized the banners.
Purple grapes. Direwolf. Golden rose. Burning tower. Bowman and hunter.
"Redwyne fleet from the Arbor?!"
Kradara wasn't a fool. He knew one of the great fleets of the Seven Kingdoms when he saw it. His expression twisted. He started barking orders to turn and face them.
One-third of the Myr ships swung around to meet the new threat.
"Attack. Hit them hard."
Lord Paxter Redwyne stood with one foot on the ram, curved blade raised.
Catapults and scorpions on the lead ships fired as they closed.
It still wasn't enough.
Hiss-graa—!
A streak of blazing red tore across the sky. A massive body ripped through the clouds and brought a sudden, violent wind.
Caraxes dove. Dragonfire followed.
"Dragonfire!"
Daeron's eyes locked on the Myr fleet below.
"The dragon's here!"
"Run—!"
The moment the Myrish saw the red dragon, their will broke. They ignored every order and scattered in panic.
The next instant crimson fire slammed into one warship. The mast snapped. Decks caught. Thick black smoke swallowed dozens of men.
Those unlucky bastards burned and screamed, running in circles until the heat and pain finished them.
"Dragon King Daeron the Third!"
Kradara's eyes went wide. Hatred flashed across his face.
"So many ships!"
Daeron didn't spare him a glance. He looked down at the hundreds of vessels and almost admired how eager Myr was to offer itself up.
"Burn them all, Caraxes."
They came. They weren't leaving.
Caraxes's molten eyes showed no mercy. He poured dragonfire without pause, enjoying every moment.
"General, the Targaryen dragon is here."
"We should go."
Kradara listened to the babbling beside him, drew a dagger, and drove it into the man's neck. The voice stopped.
"Give it here. I'll bring it down."
He shoved a crossbowman aside, yanked back a red cloth, and revealed a Qohor-made scorpion crossbow with Valyrian steel spearheads.
He gripped it, aimed at the red dragon above.
"I paid a fortune for these. Made to kill dragons."
His hands shook with excitement.
Just as he was about to fire, two more dragon roars split the air.
Hiss-graa!
Hiss-graa—
A bronze dragon and a green dragon came racing in.
"Despicable bastard!"
Jaehaerys spotted the ugly creature aiming at them and dove.
"Damn it!"
Kradara fired in panic.
Valar shifted midair and dodged the spear.
"Shit!"
Kradara slammed the scorpion in rage, abandoned the shot, and ducked behind his own men.
On the other side Jaehaerys's blood was up. He shouted, "Dragonfire!"
Crimson-gold flame engulfed the Myr flagship. Fire spread across the deck. Men who couldn't escape burned alive. Black smoke climbed into the sky.
Viserys on the green dragon torched another ship while arrows flew uselessly around him.
"This way. Follow me!"
Daeron blew the bone whistle and charged straight through the enemy fleet on Caraxes, dragonfire carving a path for the allied ships.
Three riders. Three dragons.
They owned the battlefield.
Lord Paxter's fleet slammed into the enemy line and boarding actions began.
"My lord, stay behind me!"
Smalljon Umber stood like a tower, war axes in both hands.
Eddard followed the rush, jumped onto an enemy deck, and swung Ice with both hands. The Life Seed he had formed after Robert's death let him wield the greatsword at last.
"The king is here!"
Kevan reached the battlements with a rare smile.
Stannis nodded. "Lord Kevan, release the Lannisport ships. Cut off their escape."
House Lannister had brought more than just soldiers. Over twenty warships from Lannisport had been waiting under Tywin's strict orders not to engage.
Now they finally had their chance.
Hiss-graa—
Daeron circled above. Under the shadow of three dragons the Myr fleet broke and fled in every direction.
They burned ship after ship.
Even Kradara's flagship caught fire. Leaderless, the Myrish scattered in chaos.
"This ship looks like it has something useful."
Daeron spotted the special scorpion crossbow on the burning flagship and the open crate beside it.
Inside lay several spears with silver-gray heads that could only be Valyrian steel.
He felt a surge of excitement.
Valyrian steel was rare and getting rarer. After the crown released the Life Seed method, every house with a blade guarded it jealously. Houses without one were desperate to buy or borrow.
The crown itself only had two swords, one dagger, and one crown.
"These spearheads could be melted down and reforged into another sword."
Daeron tapped Caraxes once.
The red dragon understood. He drove off the remaining ships with fire, then dove low over the flagship. One small, agile hind leg reached out and snatched the crate clean off the deck.
Wood splintered. The dragon's claw clamped around several spears.
Hiss-graa—
Caraxes climbed fast, roaring in triumph.
Daeron laughed. "Good work, Caraxes!"
The battle was already decided. The three dragons kept burning until half the Myr fleet was gone or fleeing in panic.
Daeron didn't chase. He turned back toward Tyrosh.
The defenders were exhausted. The Redwyne fleet had come a long way and needed rest. There was no need to rush the rest of Myr.
Inside the hall Tywin strode in, voice strong as ever.
"Your Grace. You finally came."
Just as he had expected. Royal support changed everything.
Daeron set down the Valyrian steel spearheads he had been examining and smiled. "My lord. You've done well."
"It was my duty."
Tywin moved straight to business. "Tyrosh is relieved. The royal fleet is still facing Lys. The Stepstones are being harassed by Tyroshi pirates. Both need your personal attention."
None of the forces he had sent had been as decisive as the crown's dragons.
"I know, my lord."
Daeron had already planned to move. He asked, "How bad are the losses here? Have we cleared out the Triarchy's spies?"
Tywin's methods had been thorough. Anyone who stirred trouble during the chaos had been hanged with their families. The hidden threats inside the city were gone.
"Without their agents, Tyrosh is much cleaner."
Daeron nodded, satisfied. It wouldn't be long before Tyrosh could be brought fully under the Iron Throne as a proper trade city.
Knock knock knock.
Jaehaerys and Stannis entered together.
Jaehaerys spoke first. "Your Grace, we captured quite a few ships and siege equipment. And some important prisoners."