The rain came down in sheets that day, turning the construction sites on Bloodstone into a muddy mess.
Logar stood in the downpour, feeding the Cannibal by hand. He always took care of his dragon personally. The beast had grown spoiled over time, refusing to eat unless Logar fed him himself.
"Gods, keeping a monster this size fed is bleeding me dry," Logar muttered with a wry laugh.
The Cannibal gulped down massive hauls of fresh fish, cattle, and sheep specially shipped from Tidehead Island. Logar had discovered the dragon wasn't picky at all — he'd eat anything and everything, and a single meal could feed thirty grown mercenaries.
Still, when he thought about how the Cannibal had helped him crush Bloodstone and Grey Gallows and secure the entire Stepstones, the gold felt well spent.
"Eat up, my friend. Who knows? You might grow even bigger one day."
Logar brushed scraps from under the dragon's jaw with a stiff brush while talking softly. According to the old-timers on Dragonstone, the Cannibal had hatched during the later years of Maegor the Cruel's reign, making him a good fifteen years younger than Vermithor. Still a young dragon with room to grow. One day he might even eclipse the Bronze Fury himself.
The Cannibal rumbled with pleasure at the feeding and the brushing, occasionally blowing little sparks of sulfur-scented fire from his nostrils like a satisfied cat.
He was just finishing the last of the fish when Femon came sprinting through the rain, soaked and breathless.
"Captain! Bad news! Velaryon merchant ships are under attack near the Gullet! They're calling for help!
Our scouts spotted a massive fleet from the Three Daughters sailing out of the Disputed Lands — over ninety ships! They're heading straight for the Narrow Sea, looks like their target is Tidehead and Dragonstone!"
Logar's stomach dropped. The Battle of the Gullet from the stories was happening right now — and far sooner than he'd expected.
A fleet that size? And the Blacks had no warning at all?
"An armada like that means one thing," he said, mind racing. "They're coming for the Blacks directly."
He snapped orders without hesitation. "Send riders to Tidehead and Dragonstone right now! Warn them!"
"What about us?" Femon asked, eyes wide.
Blackgold Island sat right in the enemy's path, and their defenses were still half-finished. The World Devourers had only six hundred men total — three hundred veterans, the rest raw recruits. Weapons and armor weren't even fully issued yet, and they had barely a dozen ships.
Facing ninety enemy vessels? The odds were insane.
"Everyone to the ships!" Logar's voice cut through the rain like steel. "We're heading out to see exactly what we're dealing with. This is our territory. No one sets foot here without paying in blood. With the Cannibal, we can stall them until reinforcements arrive!"
"World Devourers — form up!"
Horns blared through the storm. Mercenaries scrambled aboard the ships, sails rising even as rain lashed the decks.
Logar gave the Cannibal's neck a firm pat and climbed into the saddle.
The black dragon roared, wings thundering open, and launched into the pouring sky. Rain streamed off his obsidian scales as he carried Logar straight toward the enemy.
The Cannibal flew fast. In minutes they reached the stretch of sea where the fleet had been sighted.
When Logar saw what waited below, his eyes narrowed to slits.
The sea was black with ships — dozens upon dozens flying the banners of the Three Daughters, forming a moving wall of wood and steel.
Ahead of them, three battered Velaryon merchant vessels were fleeing for their lives. One was already listing badly, its stern sinking, sails torn to ribbons. Four fast Triarchy galleys were closing in, crossbows snapping, arrows raking the decks while the crews huddled behind the rails.
"Cannibal, take us down — but don't hit the friendly ships!" Logar ordered from the clouds, face grim. Prince Viserys might be aboard one of those merchants.
He switched to crisp High Valyrian. "Dracarys!"
The Cannibal lifted his head, neck tilting, and unleashed a precise torrent of sickly green flame. It streaked past the merchant ships and slammed into the lead enemy galley's bow.
Wood exploded into fire. Thick black smoke billowed. The bow burned through and collapsed, the ship listing hard. Soldiers screamed and leaped into the waves, only to be swallowed by the churning sea.
"Seven hells — it's a Targaryen dragon!"
On the Triarchy flagship, the son of the Archon of Tyrosh gripped the rail, voice tight with fear.
"Relax. There's only one," growled a fat man beside him, body covered in old burn scars.
Sharako Lohar. The same man Logar had once captured and handed to the Blacks, later ransomed back by Lys at ruinous cost.
The humiliation and lost fortune still burned in his eyes. He stared up at the black dragon with pure venom.
"We have ninety ships and heavy scorpion bolts made to kill dragons," he snarled. "If that beast gets close, we'll fill it and its rider with so many arrows they'll look like porcupines."
The Tyroshi heir relaxed and barked new orders. "All ships forward! Kill the dragon and rider first, then push through the Gullet and burn Tidehead to the ground!"
Sails billowed. The massive fleet surged ahead like a black tide.
Sharako gripped the rail until his knuckles whitened. Every scar on his body ached in the damp air, feeding the hatred that had kept him alive.
This time he would personally kill the Sea Burner, take back everything he'd lost, and make the bastard pay.
Logar circled once on the Cannibal, eyes locked on another galley about to ram a merchant ship. "Left side — target the mast!"
Green flame poured down like molten death. The mainmast exploded in a shower of burning splinters, crashing onto the deck and crushing men beneath it. The sail caught fire. The ship spun helplessly in the waves.
With the enemy in chaos, Logar guided the Cannibal into a low pass over the merchant vessels. The dragon's huge wings kicked up a howling gust that shoved several small enemy ships off course, buying the merchants precious breathing room.
"Sea Burner! It's Lord Sea Burner come to save us!"
Surviving Velaryon sailors poked their heads out, waving and sobbing with relief.
But the moment of triumph shattered.
From the enemy fleet came a storm of arrows — hundreds of heavy crossbow bolts screaming upward in a black cloud.
Most pinged harmlessly off the Cannibal's iron-hard scales, sparking like flint on steel.
A few grazed his neck and wing membranes, drawing thin lines of blood and a furious roar from the dragon.
"ROAR!"
The Cannibal whipped around and answered with a sweeping blast of green flame. Another Triarchy ship vanished in fire and smoke, sinking fast.
Logar saw the merchants were clear for now and patted the dragon's neck. "Gain altitude! Keep them at a distance and pin them down!"
The black dragon climbed higher, circling protectively above the ships like a living shadow of death. Every time an enemy vessel tried to close in, he roared a warning that shook the sea.
Logar leaned over the saddle and shouted down to the lead merchant ship. "Where are the princes? Are they still aboard? How many survivors?"
A wounded sailor dropped to his knees on the deck, voice cracking with grief. "Lord Sea Burner! Prince Aegon took Stormcloud and flew back to Dragonstone for help!
Prince Viserys's ship was rammed by three enemy galleys and sank! The fighting was too fierce — we only saved a few men. We never saw the prince… he's probably at the bottom of the sea!"
Logar's jaw tightened. Just like the original timeline. This was bad. Really bad.
On the Triarchy flagship, Sharako Lohar watched the black dragon wheel overhead and smiled with cold hatred. He raised his signal flags.
"All ships — aim for the dragon's eyes and wings! Whoever brings it down gets a lord's ransom!"
"KILL!"
Hundreds of soldiers swallowed their terror and raised their heavy crossbows. A second, even thicker volley of bolts rose like a black rain mixed with the storm, blotting out the sky.
Logar's eyes widened. "Cannibal — climb!"
The dragon powered upward with a thunderous beat of wings. Most bolts fell short or bounced off his scales. A few struck home, but the pain only made him angrier.
He answered with another earth-shaking roar that rolled across the entire fleet like the voice of an angry god.
The Battle of the Gullet had begun.