Daenerys also came down from the warship, riding a beautiful silver mare to Gendry's side.
Only when she lifted her hood did the people clearly see her face: silver-gold hair, violet eyes, and a beauty that seemed almost inhuman.
"Long live the Storm!" Stannis drew his longsword, laid it at Gendry's feet, and shouted.
The red priestess could not help covering her eyes. She could not bear to watch Stannis's radiance shatter before her. That man, the man she had once seen in the flames, the savior born amid smoke and salt, the warrior as hard as black iron. How could he? How could he kneel?
Ser Cortnay gestured for Edric to hurry over. Though he had once been the best-known of Robert's bastards, he was now only a vassal to his elder brother, the Storm. Once his brother had children of his own, Edric would be fortunate to become a lord and settle into his proper place.
"Long live King Gendry!" Edric ran over as well, placed down his smaller longsword, and shouted loudly. The boy's eyes were a deep blue, though his protruding ears did spoil his looks somewhat.
Stannis awkwardly bowed to Daenerys as well. As for Edric, he was not burdened by those old grudges. He was still only a child.
Gendry raised both their hands and turned to face the crowd. The hand of a middle-aged man, the hand of a boy. Bald Stannis, youthful Edric.
"Long live Storm's End!"
"Long live Storm's End!" the soldiers of the Stormlands and Dragonstone shouted together, rejoicing that the division in the Stormlands, and the split within House Baratheon, had been healed.
"Lord Renly, I think you had better go over quickly and ask forgiveness," Brienne whispered beside Renly. Even now, she had done all she could.
"A king has his own way of dying. Besides, if I go over there, do you think they will pardon me?" Renly said disdainfully.
The soldiers were already pushing an unwilling Renly forward. Since he was a traitor, he ought to look like one.
"All soldiers, except Renly Baratheon, are pardoned," Gendry announced.
"Long live the king!"
"Long live the king!"
"I appoint Great Lord Stannis as my right hand, the Hand of the Storm. Ser Cortnay will remain castellan of Storm's End and guardian to my brother Edric." Gendry looked at Stannis and Ser Cortnay as he made the announcement. Stannis was a man who cared about titles, but he had not truly been wrong. By seniority and kinship, his turn had indeed come.
Gendry had thought carefully about the office of Hand. Stannis had rich experience in governance. He was not gentle, but in this age, he was the most suitable man.
After all, winter was coming. If the world fell into chaos, it would need to be corrected with a firm hand. In such times, a man of Stannis's black-iron nature was exactly what was needed.
"Please accept this appointment," Dany said to Stannis.
"I am tired. I only wish to return to my home on Dragonstone and be with my wife and daughter. But for the sake of the house, I am willing to fight," Stannis replied.
"Long live Gendry!"
"Long live the Storm!" The soldiers roared, and the lords stirred. This was a major appointment. King's Landing already seemed like something in their grasp.
"How will you deal with me?" Renly asked hoarsely as he was pushed before everyone.
"You are a traitor now, little brother. You have no room to bargain," Stannis said with a frown.
"The Wall," Gendry answered firmly.
Renly's face went deathly pale. He had wanted too much, reached too high, and now he had fallen. Power did not mean honor. It meant blood, cruelty, and brutality.
"No, no!" A frantic cry broke the silence. A young knight with white linen bandages around his neck and upper body was hurriedly carried over by green-robed soldiers on a stretcher, the smell of herbs clinging to him.
"Ser Loras." The Stormlands lords looked at the beautiful young man. His forbidden relationship with Renly was almost known to all. It seemed Ser Loras had forced the green-robed men to bring him here.
"This was an ambush. It was not the way of knights," Ser Loras cried anxiously. "I will avenge Renly."
"I think you were the ones who ambushed us," Stannis exposed coldly.
"You should show some respect before the king, Young Lord Loras," Ser Cortnay reminded him. "You are the young lord of a great house. You ought to understand courtesy."
"I... you cannot send Renly to the Wall."
"That is enough, Loras. I lost." Renly spoke dejectedly, his spirit nearly worn away.
"Renly committed treason, Ser Loras Tyrell. In truth, you committed treason as well. It is only that the king has pardoned you, and the heir has forgiven you. We do not need you. We need the Rose's grain and soldiers," Stannis reminded him.
"Even so, for Renly and for my honor, I will fight the Storm. I will fight you and Stannis." There was still a trace of stubbornness on Ser Loras's pale face.
"You?" Gendry looked at the Knight of Flowers, whose upper body was wrapped in bandages, and could not help laughing aloud. How could such a frail, handsome youth ever match a man of strength on the battlefield? He could not compare to The Mountain, let alone Gendry himself. "Even if you were whole and perfect, you would not be my match, much less when you look so sickly. If it were your brother Ser Garlan, that might be interesting."
"Long live the Storm." Renly looked at Gendry and Stannis, as if they had taken all the sunlight and fire before his eyes. "I am willing to kneel and ask you to pardon Ser Loras."
Ser Loras's face remained flushed. "I will duel you, once my wounds improve."
"Forget it. Let us make a wager." Gendry said to the Knight of Flowers, "Ser Parmen Crane of Red Lake, fight me in Ser Loras's place. Last three moves against me, and that will be enough."
"Me?" Parmen's face twitched. Me, cross swords with the Storm? Was this a joke?
Brienne hesitated where she stood. She saw her old father, Lord Tarth, signaling to her with his eyes not to get involved.
"If you lose."
"I will not lose. As for you, Loras, you are a knight of summer, but winter is coming. You should return to the Reach and heal properly first." Gendry glanced at Loras, then signaled for Parmen to step forward.
The green-robed guard Ser Parmen picked up a blunted sword and charged at Gendry.
But Parmen's sword was simply too slow. Gendry moved after him, yet arrived first.
Steel struck steel. The first blow slammed heavily into Parmen's longsword. Parmen felt pain through his whole body, as if his arm had been crushed under the impact. The weight of the second blow did not fade. It was a plain upward sweep, and the blunted sword stopped directly before Parmen's face.
Ser Parmen stared at the blade so close before him. Even a blunted sword was terrifying enough, and sweat rolled down his cheeks. A blunted sword had no edge, but in the hands of a master, it was enough to kill.
"Young Lord Loras, courage is the way of knights, but strength and speed stand above courage." Gendry let go of the blunted sword. It fell before Loras and Renly, like their hopes dropping into the abyss.
Loras looked sorrowfully at the shadow and speed of that sword. He could not match it. If he kept arguing, he would only disgrace himself.
"Fight for Storm's End!" Anguy shouted.
"Fight for the Storm!" Dany shouted happily as well.
The Stormlands lords saw it clearly. This was what a warrior was. This was knightly fearlessness. Nothing else, only speed and strength.
"I give you one day. On the second day, Lord Renly will be sent to the Wall," Gendry said to Loras and Renly.
"Thank you for your mercy, King." Renly's voice caught in his throat, and then he bent the knee in acknowledgment.
"I..." Loras still wanted to say something, but Renly stopped him. Loras might not follow Renly to the Wall, but a part of his life was lost forever.
"I thank you, King Gendry. I thank you too, Brienne," Renly said to them. In his moment of greatest danger, Brienne, whom he had only treated with casual courtesy, had still been willing to follow him. That was an unexpected comfort. "But you have repaid me more than enough. From now on, be yourself."
...
"Uncle Stannis, there is something I need you to see aboard the warship," Gendry said to Stannis, making an inviting gesture.
Great Lord Stannis looked at him suspiciously, wondering what it could be.
"Lady Melisandre." Qyburn brought John Strong with him to the red priestess.
"Please come aboard Prince's flagship for a talk." Qyburn made an inviting gesture.
Stannis and the red priestess boarded the tallest and largest ship, the Storm, and even they could not help marveling at the splendor and boldness of the warship.
But what shocked them most was not the ship. It was the tiny black specks flying through the sky, circling closer and closer before landing on the deck.
A black dragon, a white dragon, a green dragon. The dragons landed beside Gendry and Daenerys, then lightly flew away again.
Blood and Fire. Dragons soaring through the sky.
"Dragons." Stannis's eyes widened. After nearly a century, these magnificent creatures had appeared in Westeros once more.
The red priestess said nothing. The Lord of Light, the great god, had he truly abandoned her? Were these magnificent dragons the true saviors?
"So this is your trump card." After a moment, the red priestess looked at the dragons, then at Gendry, her body trembling slightly as she asked.
"Against knights, I have knights. Against magic, I also have dragons." Gendry smiled faintly. The black dragon Balerion took off from his shoulder, flew over the sea, then snatched a large fish from the water and roasted it before eating it.
This black dragon had also been the first to begin hunting.
"You should be glad, my lady," the white-haired old Maester Qyburn said to the red priestess, his expression deep and unreadable. He pointed at the dragons in the sky and at John Strong. "They were originally prepared for you."
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