Chapter 145: Fury Spreads Across the Plains
The Archon's residence in Tyrosh had been severely damaged, leaving only the inner city standing alone.
The crowds inside and outside the Archon's residence formed two distinct circles: one of fire, one of ice. One was fervent, the other cold.
The outer circle consisted of noisy Tyroshi citizens, merchants, mercenaries, slave soldiers, and slaves. They varied in stature, all having brightly colored hair and dyed, forked beards, filled with fury and the fire of vengeance. They looked at the traitorous priests impaled on spear tips, and at the corpses of the fallen rebels and Meereenese gladiators displayed outside the Archon's residence. The rebels' appearances and identities were bizarre and varied; people from Myr, Lys, and even mercenaries from the Disputed Lands could be seen. These corpses further fueled the people's hatred for the traitor Dario, the Tyroshi internal spy who colluded with people from Myr, Lys, and even Meereen.
"Execute Dario!"
"Execute the traitor Dario!" Tens of thousands of people shouted in unison; their will could become steel, could become a river.
Meanwhile, inside the inner city of the Archon's residence in Tyrosh, the situation was remarkably harmonious. In the Archon's reception hall, Rhaegar felt like he was attending a grand conference. Two types of people are always the most indifferent: politicians and soldiers. They might incite the emotions of the Tyroshi populace, but they themselves strive to remain calm.
Each faction chose its representative. The High Priest represented the followers of the three-headed god; the Admiral and the Commander of the City Watch represented Tyrosh's powerful armed forces; Shireen represented the severely wounded Archon of Tyrosh's base; and Rhaegar represented the Iron Throne of Westeros. Rhaegar was only one person, but he brought three dragons—a Dance of Dragons that no one dared provoke. As for Dario, everyone already treated him as dead. He couldn't swallow any of these individual powers, let alone the alliance of four major forces. Even the Three-Headed Dragon would completely destroy Dario. Dario was certain to die, and everyone was waiting to flatten Dario's base and supporters to make a fortune.
"Go get my companions some food. I wouldn't like them eating people." Rhaegar commanded as he walked past the ruins outside the Archon of Tyrosh's residence. The dragons had landed in the inner city and were surveying the surroundings from the rooftops, a terrifying sight.
"Go find some food for Prince Rhaegar's companions!" Shireen also instructed.
The Majordomo of the Archon of Tyrosh's residence rushed to handle the matter. These forty-foot-long dragons, though not as terrifying as Balerion the Black Dread, could easily devour a person.
The representatives of the four powers—the priest, the City Watch, the navy, and Rhaegar of House Targaryen—first went to see the heavily wounded Archon of Tyrosh. Rhaegar mentioned that the Archon's son was there, hiding and weeping in his father's sickroom. The purple-haired son of the Archon of Tyrosh now had red, swollen eyes, filled with fright and fear, and dared not leave the room. He wasn't wearing his magnificent purple robe, but was barefoot, pale, and dizzy.
"The son does not resemble the wise father," Rhaegar sighed.
In the Archon of Tyrosh's bedroom, draped in purple curtains, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood—scents that represented death. The Archon was slowly weakening, his life-fire flickering wildly like a candle in the wind.
"He has taken sleeping wine and milk of the poppy for the pain, but that's all. The wound is simply too deep; it was caused by an arakh," Shireen said.
The Archon had wounds on his chest and back. Fortunately, the weapon was not poisoned. The most severe cut was across his abdomen, slicing directly from the lower belly up to the upper chest. The gauze soaked in wine was stained with blood, and the smell was nauseating. Such a serious laceration was undoubtedly fatal in this era, especially since wounds heal slowly after middle age.
"Pitiable. How did this happen?" the High Priest asked.
"Governor Dario sent someone to request discussions for a peace treaty. They chose a tavern not far from the Archon's residence, and the Archon thought nothing of it. But Governor Dario's peace was laced with poison. Several guards died saving my father, but he still took a blade to the chest and abdomen," Shireen said.
"Damn Dario, the traitor of Tyrosh," the High Priest cursed, filled with righteous indignation.
Rhaegar remained silent. The Archon of Tyrosh was still hoping for peace. Unfortunately, Dario took this expectation as a sign of weakness. The Archon of Tyrosh was also somewhat stubborn and might not listen to his daughter.
"After visiting my father, I hope you all will wait for me in the reception hall. Prince Rhaegar, please wait a moment," Shireen said. Everyone looked curiously at the handsome man and beautiful woman, but the Free Cities were far more open than Westeros, so no one asked further questions.
The rest of the people in the room withdrew one after another, leaving only Shireen and Rhaegar. Seeing the situation improve with the arrival of the High Priest, the Commander of the City Watch and the Admiral, Shireen's younger brother immediately stopped attending to his father and went to curry favor with the others.
"Is my father dying? I can't feel his flame anymore," Shireen said, looking at Rhaegar with her beautiful blue-green eyes. "Can you save him, Prince?"
"I've heard that House Lannister always pays its debts, and I am the same. Prince, I am willing to pay any price, including myself," Shireen added, looking at Rhaegar bravely. She was indeed beautiful, from her face to her figure and her demeanor—the rose of Tyrosh.
"..." Rhaegar was speechless. Rhaegar said to Shireen, "I hope you stay well. I can help you, but I don't like you treating me as that kind of person. I am not mercenary; the vibrant you is the true you." A person who truly loves a rose would not choose to ravage it, much less take advantage of someone in distress.
Rhaegar said nothing more. A small ball of azure flame erupted from his finger. The flame flickered and entered the Archon of Tyrosh's body. This flame might not completely cure him, but it could speed up the stopping of bleeding and the rate of wound healing.
Shireen called for a healer slave again, and the two of them left the room and headed to the reception hall. Seeing her father's injury improve slightly, Shireen felt a sense of relief.
"Your kindness will be very difficult to repay," Shireen said with a mysterious smile, a sweet yet stubborn beauty.
Rhaegar walked with her toward the reception hall, and the game of thrones officially began.
The Archon of Tyrosh's reception hall was also magnificent. Guarding the hall were two statues of the three-headed god. Inside the hall were tapestries from Myr, the purple curtains that symbolized Tyrosh's wealth, and ornate ship sculptures studded with jewels.
The centerpiece of the hall was a ship-shaped table, the Ship Table, covered with purple brocade.
To settle disputes and establish order, first the status must be determined, and then the war must be defined.
Although there were few people in the reception hall, they were all the power brokers of the city. The meeting was swift and brief, giving Dario no time.
Shireen sat in the seat of honor, having changed into a purple robe, with the family's old Guard Captain standing behind her. Rhaegar sat to Shireen's right. To Shireen's left sat the High Priest, draped in a purple robe and wearing the symbol of the three-headed god, with Guard Captain Gael behind him. The Commander of the Tyroshi City Watch and the Admiral wore magnificent armor; one was silver with a lion helmet, the other blue with an eagle helmet, and they sat in the lower seats.
The other priests of the three-headed god's temple, the Archon's residence guards, the City Watch, and the high-ranking commanders of the Tyroshi Navy were all standing in the corridor, having no place inside, waiting anxiously outside. Even the Archon of Tyrosh's son was sent away.
"Due to the Archon's current physical condition, I propose appointing Miss Shireen Darry as the temporary Archon of Tyrosh. Great Lord Sirae shall convene and preside over the High Council, and I, along with the Commander of the City Watch and the Admiral, shall serve as council members, suspending all other Governor duties immediately. Does anyone object?" the High Priest announced, pointing at Shireen. The Commander of the City Watch and the Admiral were somewhat surprised; the old priest truly understood the path of humility, preferring to nominate a female Archon. But since they also received a share of the power, it was acceptable.
"I do not!"
"I don't either!" The Commander and the Admiral immediately became obsequious. It was already fortunate that the two of them could cling to their positions; they truly lacked the authority or ambition to compete with the three factions: the High Priest, the Archon, and the Dragon King.
"I am a boy, I am the heir of the Darry family. High Priest, I believe you should consider me rather than my sister." Shireen's younger brother rushed in, his face flushed red, expressing indignation at the decision. This was Tyrosh, not the crude Dorne.
"You are a thief, a harlot. You curry favor with the Targaryen family's evil dragon to gain power for yourself. I despise you, sister." The boy pointed at his sister and Rhaegar and began to curse them furiously.
"You don't look like an Archon; you look like a beggar. A king does not behave this way. When others attack you, you should raise your longsword and strike back, rather than hide in your father's sickroom and cry," Rhaegar said coldly.
Everyone laughed. Beggar Archon—that was quite a good name.
"Gael, go give this boy a dose of clarity," the High Priest said coldly, looking at the boy.
Gael, the Captain of the Spear of the Three-Headed God, obeyed the order and slapped Sisso Darry across the face. The slap wasn't loud, but it conveyed weakness.
"Boy, are you any clearer now? Your sister is a man wearing a skirt, and you are a woman wearing pants," the High Priest said coldly. Tyroshi people disliked weaklings; they would rather endure a tyrant than a coward.
The slap woke the boy up, and everyone looked at him with disdain. Unable to bear the humiliation, the boy ran out of the room in tears.
"Now for the next step. I propose that Governor Dario be declared a traitor and a public enemy, and that all honors and property of Governor Dario and his rebellious supporters be confiscated and placed under the control of the Interim Archon! Due to the treasonous actions of Myr and Lys people, I suggest the Archon declare Lys and Myr as unfriendly city-states. Due to Prince Rhaegar's friendly assistance, Westeros shall be listed as a friendly nation," the High Priest stated.
"Agreed!" "Agreed!" Everyone expressed their approval. They were currently committed to this path and had no choice but to align with the Iron Throne.
"The navy has completely blockaded the port; no ship can leave."
"The City Watch has done the same; we have secured order in Tyrosh."
"Will the two of you please carry out your respective duties? Allocate some manpower to me to quickly capture Governor Dario's mansion. Prince Rhaegar's dragons cannot be deployed lightly," Shireen said. The Commander of the City Watch and the Admiral could only nod.
Shireen was still wary of deploying the dragons. Using borrowed troops for the siege, using borrowed dragons for the siege—wouldn't that make her a Tyroshi traitor? It sounded awful. They could only wait until the last moment.
"Rhaegar, don't blame me. If I were crowned by you and the Three-Headed Dragon, would my authority still be that of a proper Archon of Tyrosh?" Shireen said to Rhaegar.
Rhaegar nodded. Shireen possessed great political acumen.
The meeting thus concluded. The High Priest walked outside the mansion and announced the meeting's decisions one by one to the crowd, who unanimously began swearing allegiance to the provisional administration of the female Archon.
Next, Shireen Darry, the Interim Archon blessed by the High Priest, walked out and showed everyone the purple robe her father wore when he was severely wounded.
"Wasn't my father the publicly elected Archon of Tyrosh?"
"Did my father not seek welfare and benefits for the people and nobility of Tyrosh?"
"Why did Governor Dario betray his sacred oath, collude with merchants from Lys and Myr, and attempt to murder my father and the High Priest?"
Shireen Darry raised the bloodied clothes worn by the Archon when he was injured, displaying them to the people of Tyrosh.
Her speech was brief and powerful, but the purple robe stained with blood possessed infinite magic, pushing the people's fury to its peak.
"Execute them! Execute the traitor Dario and his lackeys!"
The wrath of the Tyroshi people was completely ignited. The fierce flames would set everything ablaze and destroy everything!
The troops and dragons departed from the Tyrosh Archon's mansion, surging furiously toward Dario's residence.
However, Rhaegar's dragons only flew and occasionally breathed fire; they were not fully committed to the war effort.
Three hundred elite soldiers from the City Watch, one hundred elite sailors from the navy, followed by three hundred elite guards from the Tyrosh Archon's mansion, and two hundred slave soldiers provided by the High Priest. These men were proficient with crossbows, spears, and longswords. Furthermore, thousands of ordinary citizens, merchants, mercenaries, and slaves, filled with rage, also rushed forward, armed with axes, crossbows, and warhammers.
Dario faced the judgment of fate. The rebel suppression army charged toward Dario's residence. War drums thundered, and dragons roared and soared high.
Rhaegar observed the battle situation from high above. Dario and his men had converted his Governor's mansion into a fortified position, filled with scorpion crossbows, traps, and spear formations.
Dario's forward positions were quickly flattened, leaving them to rely on the mansion for a final desperate defense. Many mercenaries had already slipped away, leaving only Dario's die-hard loyalists, inescapable Lysene and Myrish merchants, and Meereenese gladiators.
Dario gathered all his remaining forces. They dismantled everything that could serve as cover and concentrated inside the mansion, focusing their strength and limiting their firepower to specific points of eruption. Dario's forces were not entirely useless hangers-on.
Siege warfare has always been difficult. The firing of scorpion crossbows and crossbows caused heavy casualties among the rebel suppression army.
"Hold on, brothers! The Myrish will come to save us with the Golden Company," Dario shouted.
Rhaegar was unhurried. The Tyroshi people would still need his intervention, which would ensure he gained the maximum benefit.
In the flames, Rhaegar truly saw a fleet sailing toward them—it was the Myrish fleet, bearing familiar banners that looked like the Golden Company's.
"Archon, High Priest, Commander, new intelligence from the sea watchtower! Forty Myrish warships are attacking!" A frantic sailor rushed in.
The High Priest's face turned pale. Now Dario truly looked like someone colluding with and flattering the Myrish.
"Prince Rhaegar, I request your assistance!" the High Priest said. The situation had reached a critical point; if the Myrish landed, they could easily attack from both sides, leading to the complete ruin of Tyrosh.
"Thank you for your help, Prince Rhaegar," Shireen also said.
"This is a request from the Archon and the High Priest; I accept it readily." The dragons wildly swooped toward Dario's residence.
"Beat the drums! After three beats! The dragons will descend, and no one will be left alive!" Rhaegar said, mounted on a dragon.
The three drumbeats struck fear and doom into people's hearts.
"The dragons are here! The dragons are here! Surrender now!"
"Surrender quickly!" Those outside the mansion couldn't bear to watch the scene and shouted warnings to Dario, but it was useless.
At the break of dawn, the dragons added the final flame to the war.
"Dragonflame!" Rhaegar steered the Three-Headed Dragon toward the high sky, then suddenly dove toward Dario's residence. They skillfully avoided the scorpion crossbow bolts, moving unpredictably like a mountain goat hanging from a cliff. The dragons roared furiously, spitting out tongues of fire. Silver, black, and purple flames erupted together. Fireballs burst in the sky, descending like bolts of lightning, or like several suns appearing at once. The wood, wool, straw, grain, and fine clothes inside Governor Dario's mansion all ignited.
Amidst the raging flames, Dario's rebels screamed, either burned to death or crushed to death.
"You are the ones who provoked the Dragon King's wrath! This is the Dragon King's gift." Rhaegar circled high in the sky, looking down at the ugly scar on Tyrosh, the ruined mansion still shrouded in smoke.
Currently, dragonflame naturally couldn't completely melt massive stones, but other flammable materials were easily ignited and melted like candles.
The Tyroshi army also began to advance. Most of the enemies had been burned to death by the dragonflame.
When morning arrived, Dario's residence, and Dario himself, had melted into a pile of ashes in the fierce flames.
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