As the Dragon raced through the high sky, the vastness of heaven and earth felt even clearer.
"That's it. Fly." Gendry guided Balerion. As the Dragon swept through the air, the world seemed to grow larger, while Deep Den grew smaller beneath them.
A clear sky. A blue sky.
For the first time in more than a hundred years, Dragon and Dragonrider danced together again.
Balerion beat his black leathery wings, stirring up a thunderous wind.
"To the left."
"To the right."
Balerion truly seemed like the Black Dread reborn. He had a strong will and would not be handled easily.
Dragons were never known for good tempers, and Balerion was the most unruly of the three. He obeyed only Gendry's commands, and even Daenerys could barely control him.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh."
The black Dragon pierced through the clouds, shrinking into a tiny black speck as the wind cut past like needles.
When the Dragon circled downward, his form grew larger and larger.
"Descend!"
Circling and diving was also a Dragon's favorite way to attack.
Under the sun, the Dragon folded his wings, hid his shape, and began his bombing descent.
"I still need a pilot's helmet," Gendry thought. A traditional helm blocked too much of his vision.
"And a few Valyrian steel daggers too. It's not as though we lack steel." Gendry thought that a base of Valyrian steel, paired with some Myrish lenses, might make a good model.
The higher a person flew, the lower the oxygen, temperature, and air pressure became.
Yet these Dragonlords were all still full of life, and Gendry had to admire them. Perhaps they really had been remade by magic.
Gendry saw the broad road beside Deep Den, stretching like a belt below him. The Goldroad, reaching out from King's Landing toward the Westerlands.
All roads led to King's Landing.
The Goldroad began at the Lion Gate of King's Landing in the Crownlands, extended west along the Blackwater Rush, passed through the northern Reach, crossed the hills of the Westerlands near Deep Den, and ended at House Lannister's seat: Casterly Rock and Lannisport.
Roadwork in Westeros was a mess. They called them royal roads, but their quality varied wildly.
The main stretch of the Kingsroad to The North lay between King's Landing and The Neck, with many inns and villages along the way. At first, it had been little more than two wheel ruts winding through weeds.
The more remote the place, the narrower, rockier, and more overgrown the road became.
The Goldroad was relatively wide because the Westerlands were wealthy, but even then it was only a dirt road fit for carts. Compared with the Valyrian roads, the difference was like heaven and earth.
Gendry rode Balerion onward, looking down from the sky at the Westerlands camp below.
Tywin had built a checkpoint of stone and logs on The Goldroad east of Deep Den. The soldiers moving back and forth looked like ants.
Gendry had meant to teach Daenerys to fly a little more, but the war was urgent now.
After they destroyed the checkpoint on The Goldroad, there would still be time to train Dragonriders.
Besides, aerial combat carried danger. Not everyone had an advantage like Gendry.
"Let's look for the heavy cavalry."
Gendry swept easily through the sky, searching The Goldroad for the right army's heavy-armored knights. That force should be almost here, led by Lord Yohn Royce and Lord Bryce Caron.
On The Goldroad, golden battle banners snapped in the wind as the charging knights hurried along the road.
Warhorses neighed, and the knights' silver-plated armor gleamed in the rising sun.
"Westward. Across the Westerlands, then on to Casterly Rock."
"The army marches west."
Everything felt so thrilling. Everything felt alive.
The knights were eager for battle, unwilling to miss the fruits of this victory.
At the front of the orderly ranks flew the banner of King Gendry the Breaker. The royal golden quartered banner rose highest of all, as large as a whole ox.
Behind it came House Royce's banner of runes on pebbles, House Caron's nightingale banner, and House Rowan's golden tree on white.
The Vale knights formed the center, commanded by Lord Yohn. On the left and right wings rode the knights of the Stormlands and House Rowan.
"Forward, boys! We need to join King Gendry beneath the checkpoint," said "Bronze" Yohn Royce, waving his hand. At his waist hung Lamentation, the ancestral sword House Royce had lost and regained.
Though Lord Bronze was no longer young, he remained a tall, powerful warrior.
Lyn Corbray, with his rust-colored hair, and Mychel, the youngest son of Redfort, followed close behind their commander.
"Knights of the Stormlands, don't fall behind the knights of the Vale," Lord Bryce Caron laughed.
Then Ser Garth Rowan waved his hand. How could the knights of The Reach lag behind others?
The knights of House Rowan wore silver-plated armor, and on their white cloaks was a golden tree with lush branches.
Relying on the broad, fertile fields of the northern Reach, House Rowan had a considerable population and military strength.
"Roar!"
The black Dragon's roar rang out like thunder. The vanguard scouts galloping ahead were startled, struggling with all their strength to control their panicked horses.
The horses were nearly scared out of their wits. Even fine warhorses could not stand against a Dragon's roar.
If the Dragon roared again, these horses would throw caution aside and flee for their lives.
"The Black Dread. It's Balerion."
"It's Balerion."
The soldiers were all very familiar with the king's black Dragon.
"A Dragon! There's someone on its back. Your Grace has arrived," Bronze Yohn announced at once.
The black Dragon roared as he slowly descended from the air. From the Dragon's back, Gendry looked down at "Bronze" Yohn, Bryce Caron, Garth Rowan, and the others.
"Greetings, Your Grace," Yohn Royce said, bending the knee. He had not expected that after so short a time apart, the king would already be able to ride a Dragon so well.
"Lord Yohn, I have led my men and taken Deep Den. Advance at full speed. In half an hour, I will use the Dragon to help you open The Goldroad."
"As you command!" Lord Yohn, Ser Garth, and the others answered respectfully.
"Long live Your Grace!"
"Long live King Gendry!"
The knights cheered. They had followed the king through too many miracles no one had ever seen before, so much so that they had developed a blind trust in him.
This was the bearing of a king.
For more than a hundred years, people had forgotten the sound of Dragons roaring, let alone Dragonriders.
The Dragon took flight once more, and Gendry turned back toward Deep Den.
Balerion descended into the square of Deep Den, and the people watched the Dragon land with both fear and excitement.
Gendry climbed down from Balerion and removed his helm.
"Dragonlord Storm!"
"Dragonlord Storm!"
When the people saw Gendry's warm, smiling eyes and the king's bright, handsome face, they could not help cheering in unison.
Daenerys, the girl with violet eyes, slipped into his arms, while Margaery and Sansa watched thoughtfully.
"He's handsome and dashing, with the bearing of a king, like a stag. Brave and fearless." Sansa Stark's weakness for handsome faces had won out.
"A Dragon. A true Dragon. A true Dragonrider." Margaery Tyrell took a deep breath.
As the daughter of a Great Lord, she had long understood that she would inevitably marry power.
A woman's inheritance rights stood beneath a man's, but nobles did not shy away from the existence of female Lords.
Noble girls also had to understand the flow of power, and the Little Rose had the Old Rose's mind guiding her besides.
For example, when Catelyn Tully's mother kept miscarrying, Catelyn had been raised as the heir for quite some time.
"Only the Storm," the Little Rose thought.
If one sought strength and power, only the Dragonlord Storm possessed authority and might far above everyone else.
"Long live!"
"Long live!"
"Dragonlord Storm!"
Everyone was swept up in cheers.
"Ser Barristan," Gendry ordered. "The fortress on The Goldroad will soon be broken. Send word to every city in the West. I have arrived. Those who repent their treason may yet be spared death. Otherwise, their old lands and privileges will be taken from them."
"As you command, Your Grace."
Lord Lydden and Ser Gerold Serrett's faces twitched. It seemed the hostages from their houses were very likely doomed.
But there was nothing to be done. This was war.
"They must be sewing your banners through the night at home, Your Grace. Stag banners," Lord Lydden said flatteringly.
...
On The Goldroad, at the checkpoint set up by Tywin Lannister, the red roaring lion banner flew from the highest point.
The temporary checkpoint did not yet have a proper name. The soldiers casually called it the Golden Gate.
This checkpoint had been cleverly placed between two mountain passes, somewhat like an imitation of the Bloody Gate. But the Bloody Gate had a steeper rise, while the Golden Gate's change in elevation was smaller.
Even so, it was an excellent design and could be considered a strong fortress. But it still could not withstand Dragons.
Gendry saw that the Golden Gate had two watchtowers clinging to the rock walls, with stone foundations and walls below connecting them.
The road had been blocked until only four riders could barely pass abreast, and the silent knights stood ready.
But when the Westerlands soldiers heard the enemy's roar, they still felt afraid.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
From the distant horizon came a roar, and knights in all colors appeared before the Westerlanders' eyes like a rolling tide.
Golden banners stood like a forest, one stretch after another.
"Gods, weren't they supposed to appear at Golden Tooth or the Ocean Road?"
"Arrows! Ready! Loose!" the Westerlands commander shouted at once.
The walls immediately burst into motion. Scorpions, ballistae, burning oil, and archers were made ready, and there were even small catapults.
Then a shadow swept over the Golden Gate.
The noise and shouting stopped.
Ten thousand voices fell silent. Every pair of eyes turned to the sky.
"Dracarys!"
A wave of heat like Death's scythe descended from above, followed by black-red flame pouring down from the sky.
"It's a Dragon."
"Aaaaaah!"
The Dragon breathed black-red fire, sweeping it across the walls of the Golden Gate.
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