Dragon's Roost's playground is filled with dust.
Daeron·Targaryen followed his brother Aemond across the edge of the training ground and looked at the young soldiers who were sparring.
They wore uniform leather armor that reflected a faint sheen in the afternoon sun, and their movements were a little jerky but uniform.
Aemond said:
"Most of them are orphans."
Daeron was silent for a moment. "Exchanging food and clothing for loyalty is a fair trade."
"Fair?" Aemond chuckled, "Daeron, there is never true fairness in this world."
"Just chips and choices."
"I give them a choice: rot in the streets of King's Landing, or live here holding a sword."
"They chose me, they gave me their loyalty, that's it."
He walked to Wood Frame where the weapons were placed on the playground, took off two unedged training swords, and threw one to Daeron.
"My father pardoned me and allowed me to go back to King's Landing to visit my mother." Aemond said with a sudden smile, a trace of complexity flashing in his eyes.
"Queen Alicent is about to be produced. This is the first time I have been allowed to set foot on King's Landing in two years."
Daeron caught the sword, and the hilt was wrapped in non-slip leather. "Congratulations, brother."
Aemond, adjusted the posture of holding the sword. "Mother said she wanted to see you."
And Daeron lowered his head.
When he was five years old, he was sent to Hai House Tall for foster care. In this home, he really looked like an unnecessary child.
Aegon is the eldest son, and his value goes without saying.
Aemond is the second son, but at least he has value in the eyes of his parents.
Helaena is the eldest daughter and the jewel in her parents' hands.
He is the only young son who has been fostered in Hightower since childhood.
Aemond saw Daeron, and the depressed expression brought him back to reality.
"Come."
"Let me see what Hai House Tall taught you."
Daeron raised his head and put out the standard starting position, which was still the same as Oldtown Knight taught, elegant and standardized.
In contrast, Aemond just stood casually, with the tip of the sword hanging to the ground.
"Attack."
Daeron stepped forward and stabbed his brother's chest with the sword. The sword was very fast and accurate, using the skills he had practiced hard for many years.
Aemond didn't even move his feet. With a flick of his wrist, he raised the training sword upwards and struck Daeron precisely three inches on the blade.
A crisp "clang" sound made Daeron's palms numb.
"You are too standardized." Aemond commented.
"Your eyes are only focused on my sword and your shoulders are too stiff. Is that right?"
Daeron stood firm, his cheeks burning. "Then how should we fight?"
"Look at me." Aemond said, "It's not my sword, it's me."
"Watch my every move? Where is my focus? Where are my eyes looking?
"Real fighting does not follow the rules of martial arts."
While talking, Aemond suddenly moved.
Without warning, the training sword turned into a sword Grey Ghost, piercing Daeron's face.
Daeron hurriedly raised his sword to block, but Aemond's sword strangely changed direction midway, switching from stabbing to sweeping, and the sword struck him hard on the ribs.
"Ugh!" Daeron shouted in pain and took three steps back.
"Fighting is a game with people, and people will change."
Aemond put away his sword and said, "Come again."
This time Daeron learned well.
He moved slowly around Aemond, his eyes locked on his brother's shoulders and waist.
That's it now!
Daeron suddenly exerted force, and the sword blade slashed diagonally from bottom to top.
This sword gave up all the rules he had learned, and was just pure fast and ruthless.
Aemond Turn sideways, slide, and raise the tip of the sword, all these actions are completed in one breath.
Daeron's sword was swung away, leaving the empty space on his chest exposed, while the tip of Aemond's sword had been lightly pressed against his chest.
"There is progress." Aemond put away his sword and turned towards the city wall stairs, "Daeron, you are still too young."
Daeron breathed a sigh of relief and followed his brother.
The two brothers climbed onto the city wall and suddenly had a clear view.
Dragon's Roost's city wall is only ten feet high, but it has a special design. The wall stacks are in a zigzag shape, and there are arrow holes on each protrusion.
"This territory of yours," Daeron looked around, "Is more like a military camp."
Aemond walked to the wall and pointed at the North: "Look at that road. Rose Road starts from Highgarden and branches here. One leads to King's Landing and the other leads to Storm's End."
He turned to the other side and ran his fingers across the sparkling waves of Blackwater Bay: "Look at my port again."
"Sail eastward not long from here, and ahead is the port of King's Landing."
"Dragon's Roost is stuck at the intersection of land and water, on the southern throat of King's Landing."
Daeron Following his hand, the geographical situation is clear at a glance.
Years of Hightower education allowed him to instantly understand the strategic value here.
"Rhaenyra, there are Dragonstone, and there are those dragons."
Aemond continued.
"And Velaryon has the most powerful fleet of Seven Kingdoms."
"If a war breaks out, the first thing they will do is blockade the entire Blackwater Bay."
"King's Landing's food depends on shipping for 40% of it. Once the sea route is cut off..."
"The whole King's Landing will fall into hunger." Daeron took the words and frowned.
"Unless Riverlands's food can be sent in by land."
"But land transportation costs a lot and cannot support a city with a population of 500,000."
Aemond nodded his head
"And land transportation in the south must pass through here."
"Whoever controls Dragon's Roost will control the grain road south of King's Landing."
"That's why I want to make this a military camp."
At this time, the wind blew from Blackwater Bay, carrying a salty smell.
After a long silence, Daeron spoke softly, "Brother, are you really doing all this to protect the family?"
Aemond did not answer immediately.
He looked at the North, his purple eyes looking at the blurry outline of King's Landing.
After a long time, he slowly said, "Is there any difference?
"We can only win."
"Do you know what will happen if you lose?"
"The bloodline will be cut off, and our names will become dust."
Daeron hesitated for a moment. "Rhaenyra... That can't be the case, right?"
"We are all Targaryen, we are all relatives."
"When a war starts, people will die." Aemond said. "When people die, hatred will accumulate."
"No matter whether we bleed the same blood or not, we will only remember hatred in the end."
"Fear, grief, hatred, and despair will spread throughout the kingdom like a plague."
He paused and said more coldly, "The loser will bear these curses."
Daeron was silent for a while and said.
"I think everything can still be discussed and we can resolve it peacefully."
Aemond's hand slipped from Daeron's shoulder, and he looked down at the territory that was gradually lit up in the dusk:
"It was my father and Rhaenyra who betrayed Targaryen."
"Nowadays, illegitimate children have stained the bloodline, and careerists have divided the family and tried to dominate us."
Daeron looked at his brother beside him and saw determination in his eyes.
"Now there is only one last chance for Targaryen to revive."
"If you don't try to catch it, if you choose to keep holding back."
Aemond turned around and stared at his younger brother with purple eyes.:
"Then let the war begin."
"From the desert of Dorne to the snowfield of the Wall, let the sky boil with Dragonflame, and let the dragons fall in the rain of blood."
"Even if I shed my last drop of blood, if I can't save Targaryen from failure..."
He paused.
"Then let the whole Seven Kingdoms burn..."