"Bring them up."
Daeron had a duty to see the important prisoners himself. He planned to keep the useful ones.
The key captives were already waiting. Stannis escorted a dark-haired, curly-haired man with deep skin and introduced him.
"This one's a Myr governor. He handled logistics and watched the fighting. Kradara ran and left him behind."
"Is that so?"
Daeron smiled faintly and studied the unlucky man.
"You with Graven's people, or just representing one of the governors?"
"You know Graven?"
The curly-haired man looked shocked. It wasn't hard to guess that the young king had excellent intelligence on Myr.
Daeron saw the reaction and confirmed it.
"Looks like he's with Graven's faction. Take him away and lock him up. He'll make a useful bargaining chip later."
"No— I know a lot of things— don't touch me—"
The man tried to bargain, but Stannis ignored him. He called two Dragon-Tongue Knights and had the governor dragged out like a dead dog.
"These two as well."
"One's a captain in the Brave Companions. The other's just a temp, but he's a red priest."
Stannis pointed at their shaved heads with clear distaste.
Daeron knew Stannis looked down on sellswords and had no patience for gods.
"What are your names?"
Jaehaerys took over the questioning.
The big bald man gave Daeron a lewd once-over and smirked.
"Name's Salo. I'm one of the captains of the Brave Companions. They say Valyrians are unnaturally beautiful. Didn't expect even the men to be this… pretty."
His tone was crude. His eyes were worse.
Daeron remembered him.
This was one of the three captains of the Brave Companions that the Wise Masters of Yunkai had hired in the old stories. Two of them had been especially vile, constantly insulting Daenerys and harassing her translator Missandei.
"Good. Falling into my hands is perfect."
Daeron's smile stayed calm.
"Take him away. Castrate him, then throw him into the slave camps."
He said it in the same even voice he used for any order.
"What? Let go of me!"
Salo's face went white. He started thrashing.
By the rules of war, a captured officer should be held for ransom.
"Make him quiet. Don't let him offend the king."
Tywin's voice was ice. He had always despised flamboyant men and held nothing but contempt for crude sellswords. In his mind, the sentence was already death.
Stafford and two Lionheart Knights moved in. They snapped both of Salo's arms, forced him down, then stomped his knees until the kneecaps shattered.
"Ahhh!"
Salo screamed, cold sweat pouring down his face. He looked like a dog with its spine broken.
"Apologies for the noise, Your Grace. My lord."
Stafford gave a short nod and dragged the screaming man out to carry out the king's order.
Daeron watched without expression. He glanced at Tywin but said nothing. The result suited him well enough.
"Your Grace, I'm not with the Brave Companions. I was forced into it. I'm innocent."
The second bald man dropped to his knees, pale and desperate to separate himself.
Daeron looked at him and felt a flicker of recognition.
"You stayed at the Red Keep before?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I'm Thoros of Myr. I served as a priest in King's Landing, but King Aerys didn't believe in the Lord of Light, so I was sent back to Myr."
Thoros quickly explained his history.
Daeron did remember him.
Thoros the red priest. In the old stories he had been an interesting character who once brought Beric Dondarrion back to life with a flaming sword.
"You somehow ended up with the Brave Companions after all."
Daeron found it almost funny.
Thoros looked miserable. He really had no good explanation.
He couldn't make it in King's Landing, tried to return to Myr as a priest, and got press-ganged by Tyrosh on the way. Then the Brave Companions dragged him back to Myr and blackmailed him into working for them to pay for the "rescue" and passage.
He had no choice but to become temporary help.
"A temp isn't a real member. Mistakes can be forgiven."
Daeron decided on the spot. The man had a role to play in the larger story.
"Get up. You're joining Stannis's command from now on. Serve the Iron Throne and your past is wiped clean."
He added, "Watch him, Stannis."
"Understood, Your Grace."
Stannis answered without fuss.
Thoros let out a shaky breath, genuine gratitude in his eyes. He had just barely kept his life.
He remembered how soft he had gotten in King's Landing. Now, after only a short time back in Essos, he was already half-starved.
"Jaehaerys, gather the lords. I'm calling a war council."
Daeron turned to business, then looked at Tywin.
"Please, Your Grace."
Tywin stepped back half a pace and gestured politely. He knew exactly when to lead and when to follow.
The next morning.
Daeron flew Caraxes toward the Broken Arm, Jaehaerys and Viserys following close behind on their dragons.
Yesterday's strategy had been settled.
Tywin would hold Tyrosh. Randyll Tarly would lead the combined armies of three kingdoms while Paxter Redwyne took command of the fleet. Together they would push north toward Myr and try to take the city.
Daeron would take his two brothers to clear the Tyroshi pirates still harassing the Stepstones, then return to the main front.
"This is the advantage of having dragonriders. We can move back and forth in hours."
"Randyll and Lord Paxter are both proven commanders. I can trust them."
Daeron's eyes flashed with a faint sea-blue light. His already sharp vision sharpened further, picking out tiny details in the air.
He had absorbed an aquamarine. It had boosted his precision and, unexpectedly, given his eyes better dynamic vision.
For a dragonrider fighting at high altitude, it was an enormous advantage.
He could feel his limit for absorbing special gems sat somewhere between forty and sixty stones, depending on the person.
The absorption followed a Fibonacci-like pattern.
"The first aquamarine already made the Life Seed feel more active. This is one way to push it toward blooming."
Daeron still wanted to advance his Life Seed to the next stage.
The aquamarine had been perfect for sharpening his eyes.
"Brother, I see them!"
Jaehaerys shouted over the wind.
Daeron looked down and spotted a group of Tyroshi pirates attacking a royal fleet patrol. About a dozen ships, moving fast and hard.
"Dragonfire."
Daeron didn't hesitate. He dove.
The fight was over before it really began. Three dragons burned every pirate ship to floating charcoal. They sank without a trace.
"Wooooh!"
Viserys whooped like an idiot, clearly enjoying himself.
Daeron let him have it. He had brought both brothers along to get them used to real fighting.
Over the next few days Daeron directed while the two new riders handled the enemy. Tyroshi pirate losses mounted quickly.
When Lord Lucerys heard the king had arrived, he sent the royal fleet to cut off the pirates' escape routes. A full purge of the Stepstones began.
Bloodstone Island.
Daeron was ready to leave. He wanted one last sweep of the islands before returning to the main war.
Hiss-graa!
A furious dragon roar came from the beach.
Daeron paused.
"Toothless?"
That rough, angry roar could only belong to the black dragon.
Toothless had come with them but had mostly stayed near Bloodstone, free to roam while Daeron trained his brothers.
What had set him off?
Daeron didn't bother looking for Caraxes on the slope. He headed straight for the beach.
Two large shapes waited there.
On the rocky shore where the waves crashed, a pale gray-white dragon had fallen into the shallows. One wing hung twisted and broken. Its body was covered in wounds. The water around it had turned red with dragon blood that steamed faintly.
"Grey Shadow?"
Daeron recognized the small wild dragon from a distance.
It had hatched from the same clutch as Toothless. It had never accepted the Dragon Guards and lived wild along Dragonstone's eastern coast.
Because of its gray color and solitary nature, Daeron had named it Grey Shadow, after one of the wild dragons from the Dance.
Hiss-graa!
Toothless circled above, green eyes fixed on the injured dragon. There was territorial anger in his posture, but something else too.
Daeron walked closer.
Grey Shadow lay in the surf, barely lifting its head. Its sapphire-blue eyes watched him weakly. Even its roar sounded faint.
The closer Daeron got, the deeper his frown became.
The wild dragon was badly hurt.
One wing membrane was torn open. Scales along the wing bone were shattered. The bone itself looked broken. Three deep claw marks ran across its neck and belly, the wounds already inflamed and starting to rot from seawater.
"Easy, Grey Shadow."
Daeron kept his voice calm and held out one hand as he approached.
Grey Shadow's eyes flickered. It seemed to recognize the silver-haired man who had been there when its egg hatched. Its nostrils flared, catching a familiar scent.
Slowly, the tension left its body. It stayed still in the surf.
Daeron got a clear look at the wounds.
The worst were the torn wing and the three deep gashes across its belly. Scales were ripped away, flesh hung open, and he could see the faint movement of organs beneath. Salt crystals had already formed over the wounds, making healing even harder.
"Who did you fight to end up like this?"
Daeron sighed.