«You... What do you say?» Baela was the first to react. She rushed to Sara and looked down at her with disdain.
«Tame a dragon? What dragon?»
«Silverwing,» Sara whispered. «I tamed her.»
She turned to her brother beside her. «Varros tamed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury.»
«Mirax tamed Grey Ghost.»
Robert's breath grew ragged.
«Silverwing is a gentle silver-green she-dragon, near seventy feet in length.»
«Her bond with Jacaerys was like that of husband and wife.»
«And Vermithor, the Bronze Fury — a giant of one hundred thirty feet, second only to Vhagar. He is fierce-tempered; no one has dared approach him in years.»
«Grey Ghost is a young dragon, fifty feet long, swift and wild beyond measure.»
If this is true...
«There is also Sheepstealer,» Sara added.
«Impossible!» Rhaena burst out. «Sheepstealer is a wild dragon, like Cannibal!»
«Even the Dragonkeepers have lost countless men to his bite!»
Sara bit her lip, then turned to the dark-haired girl beside her. She spoke softly: «Nettles. Tell them yourself.»
The girl called Nettles trembled. Her head hung lower still.
She was silent for a long while before she spoke — her voice thin as a gnat's.
«I was only a dragonkeeper... I tended to Sheepstealer.»
«I gave him sheep every day.»
«At first, he breathed fire at me. I threw him the sheep and ran...»
«Then he stopped breathing fire, and I came closer... After a time, I could touch his scales.»
She lifted her head, spoke with care: «Two years past, I tried to ride him. He... He did not throw me.»
«Two years past?» Rhaenyra asked.
Nettles said, quiet, «I know the dragon belongs to House Targaryen. I am only a lowly keeper.»
«So I never flew him. Not until my lord Jacaerys saw what I could do...»
Robert stared at the girl — no dragon features, no silver hair — then turned to Sara. «How dare you?!» These dragons belong to Princess Rhaenyra! They are Targaryens! Who gave you leave...»
«Lord Jacaerys did.»
It was the silver-haired strongman kneeling who spoke.
All eyes turned to him.
«Before Lord Jacaerys departed, he formed our guard,» the man said.
«He told us the blacks would need more dragonriders.»
«He bade us try, in small parties, to approach the riderless dragons.»
He paused. «Many died.»
«Burned. Bitten. Broken on the ground below. But those who lived... It worked.»
He looked at Sara, at Varros, at Mirax — all three of them. These three bastards found a way.
Only days ago, after Jacaerys fell, two of them had tamed Silverwing and Grey Ghost.
They had secrets, surely...
Robert's face had gone red.
The old knight drew his sword. Its point leveled at Sara. «You are usurpers! Thieves, all of you!»
«I should take your heads for treason here and now!»
Sara, still kneeling, shut her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
«If my lord would take our heads, we will not resist.»
«We are sworn to Princess Rhaenyra. To Lord Jacaerys.»
«We swore oaths.»
Varros and Mirax bowed their heads as well, showing their throats.
But behind them, the other bastards stirred.
They shifted on their knees, fear plain on their faces.
The silver-haired man raised a hand.
At that simple gesture, the noise died.
Lucerys watched from his sickbed.
Pain lanced through his back in hot flashes, but clearer than the pain were the thoughts racing through his head.
Jacaerys... My brother did this madness in secret.
Bastards made into dragonknights.
What did he want?
Dragonriders bound only to him?
But it did not matter now.
What mattered was the dozen bastards kneeling before him — and the four dragons they rode.
Lucerys closed his eyes. Drew a long breath. Frowned as the motion pulled at his wounds.
When he opened his eyes again, he spoke.
«Ser Robert. Sheathe your sword.»
Robert turned, bewildered.
«My prince, these men —»
«I know what they are,» Lucerys cut him off.
«Bastards. Baseborn blood.»
«The law demands their heads.»
He paused. His gaze passed over each kneeling child.
«But the greens have murdered my brother. They will come for Dragonstone soon enough.»
«If we take their heads, Silverwing, Vermithor, Grey Ghost, Sheepstealer — four dragons — will have no riders.»
«When Aemond comes on Vhagar, those dragons will be taken up by the greens. Turned against us.»
Lucerys went on.
«Better they fight for us.»
Robert's hands trembled.
The old knight looked at Lucerys. Looked at the bastards on the floor. Slowly, he slid his sword home.
«You.» Lucerys looked at Sara. «Who rides?»
Sara lifted her gaze, quick. «I do. Silverwing.»
«Varros. Vermithor.»
«Mirax. Grey Ghost.»
«Nettles. Sheepstealer.»
Lucerys's eyes fell on the dark-haired girl. «You... Nettles?»
She nodded. Did not dare look at him.
«Your parents?»
«I... I don't know.» Her voice had grown smaller.
«I was put out of a fishing village.»
«My foster mother said they found me in a basket... among nettles.»
«When I was eight, they chose me for a dragonkeeper... to tend Sheepstealer.»
Lucerys was silent a long moment.
A bastard girl who does not even know her own name. No dragon features. Yet she tamed a beast even trueborn Targaryens could not master.
The world has gone mad indeed.
«You must know,» he said to the kneeling company.
«The greens will not have you.»
«You have heard how Aemond speaks of bastards.»
Sara met his gaze. Her own was steady.
«We never thought to join the greens.»
«He killed my... He killed the one I loved.»
«And from the day Lord Jacaerys found us, we knew: only if the blacks win can we live. Only then might we be... acknowledged.»
«Acknowledged?» Lucerys smiled — a strange expression, made grotesque by his bandages.
«You want your children named Targaryen?»
Sara's hand moved to her belly. Curled protectively. «Lord Jacaerys swore it.»
«Jacaerys is dead,» Lucerys said, cruel in his truth.
«His head hangs on the walls of the Red Keep. His oath is worth nothing now.»
Sara's face went white.
But Lucerys did not stop.
«Prove your worth, however. Fight for the blacks. Avenge my brother. I will beg my mother myself.»
«I will not give you Targaryen. Not yet.»
«When you die, your dragon will be claimed again by the House.»
«But you will be a branch of it. A cadet house. A name.»
The room fell so silent the torches seemed to crackle like thunder.
Sara looked at Lucerys. After a long breath, she lowered her head to the stone floor.
«We will fight for the blacks.»
«Before the gods, we swear it.»
«Our swords, our dragons, our lives — they belong to Queen Rhaenyra.»
«Queen...» Lucerys turned the word over.
Then he looked at Robert.
«Ser. If four grown dragons lie in wait on Dragonstone. If they ambush Aemond... What are our chances?»
Robert shook off his shock.
The old knight went to the table. Studied the map. His lips moved as he reckoned.
«Vermithor is one hundred thirty feet. Smaller than Vhagar, aye — but in his prime. No less fearsome for it.»
«Silverwing, seventy feet. Sheepstealer near as much. Grey Ghost, fifty.»
«Four against —»
«Aemond has Vhagar and Lothron. Aegon has Sunfyre as well. Three against four.»
He looked up. Hope kindled in his eyes.
«We have the numbers. Our dragons are strong. If the ambush is laid well... We could win.»
Lucerys nodded.
«Aemond will come.»
«He will want Driftmark. He will want Dragonstone.»
«Only then can he hold the Gullet. Close King's Landing's throat to the sea.»
«Aye, my lord,» said Robert. «But there is a difficulty.» He looked at Sara and her fellows.
«They have only just claimed their dragons. They have no battle skill.»
«Riding is not fighting.»
«Dragons and riders must run together before they are truly fearsome.»
Sara spoke at once. «We can learn! We —»
«There is no time to learn,» Lucerys cut her off.
«Aemond may come on the morrow.»
He looked at Robert.
«If Vermithor meets Vhagar face to face. Holds her. Then Silverwing, Sheepstealer, and Grey Ghost fall upon Sunfyre and Dreamfyre...?»
Robert thought.
«Sunfyre is a fine golden dragon, but young. Green.»
«Dreamfyre is too small. Her size will not bear a long assault.»
«If the two are broken quickly, and four dragons turn on Vhagar...»
The old knight nodded, fierce.
«We would win.»
Something kindled in Lucerys's eyes. Vengeance. Hope.
«Then it is done.»
He looked at the four dragonriders.
«You remain here.»
«Ambush on Dragonstone. When the greens come, you kill them.»
The four exchanged glances.
Varros and Mirax showed tension, yes — but beneath it, a hunger to prove themselves.
Sara touched her belly. Her face was still pale, but she set her jaw. Nodded.
Nettles... Nettles only lowered her head. What she thought, no man could say.
«We will prove ourselves,» Varros said, his voice deep.
Lucerys turned to the silver-haired strongman.
«You. What is your name? You are captain of this guard?»
The man lifted his chin.
«They call me 'Hammer'.»
«My name is Hugh.»
«My father was Jaehaerys. I —»
Jaehaerys the Conciliator. Fifty-five years upon the Iron Throne. In his youth, he had sown many wild oats — the first night right had not yet been abolished...
Lucerys studied the man.
Silver-gold hair. Deep violet eyes. Tall, strong-jawed. The blood was plain.
Hugh went on.
«Lord Jacaerys said not every man with dragon's blood can be a rider.»
«He said my arts were better suited to the sword. He made me captain.»
«Will you fight for me?» Lucerys asked.
«Be my sworn sword. Guard us in Pentos?»
Hugh answered without pause. Fervent.
«I will. I will be your sword, my lord. Guard you to the end of my days.»
Lucerys nodded.
«Good. Tonight you will take these guardsmen. You will escort me, Rhaena, and Baela to Pentos.»
He looked again at Sara and her riders.
«As for you — win this battle.»
«Prove your loyalty. Prove your worth. My mother will see it.»
«Win, and I swear you shall have lands. Honors.»
Sara's eyes kindled.
«Will you name my child?»
«If you win the battle of Dragonstone for the blacks. If you kill Aemond.»
Lucerys spoke slowly, each word a promise.
«I will beg my mother myself. Your child shall be named Targaryen.»
Sara nodded, fierce. Tears spilled down her cheeks once more, but her voice did not break.
«It is enough. It is enough.»
Lucerys turned to Robert.
«Ser. Dragonstone is yours. They are yours.»
Robert drew a long breath. Straightened his back.
«Have no fear, my lord. While I draw breath, Dragonstone will not fall to the greens.»
«And if you stop drawing breath?»
«Then I will take as many greens as I can to the seventh hell with me.»
Lucerys smiled. It looked grim beneath his bandages.
«Good fortune, ser.»
«And you, my prince.» Robert bowed low.
«Tell the princess Rhaenyra...»
«I will always be faithful to her....»