Honing blades at Dragon's Roost Port, winning hearts across the peninsula
The morning light that had just spilled over the newly built stone steps of the Dragon's Roost Port was torn apart by a series of unified shouts.
On the training ground on the east side of the dock, thousands of soldiers stood in formation, the crisp sound of clashing armor and the muffled thud of spears striking the ground intertwining like a stirring battle song.
Rupert Crabb stood on the high platform, dressed in a blue robe and white armor, the steel sword "Whisper" at his waist gleaming coldly. As the "instructor" of the Crab Claw Peninsula warriors recruited by Daemon, he was training his brothers as usual.
Myles Rivers and Tybolt Crakehall also demonstrated the proper chopping motion of the battle axe, while the warriors of the Black Hill Tribe followed behind, their animal skin skirts fluttering with the movements, their eyes filled with fierce courage.
"Move faster! The bandits on land and the pirates at sea won't give you time to strike a pose!" Rupert's roar pierced the crowd. He glanced at the end of the line at Berna Brune's cousin, Rosso Brune, heir of the Brune family of Brown Burrow Mountain, and shouted, "Sir Rosso, your Brown Burrow Mountain men have good swordsmanship, but your formation is scattered. If you don't improve, you'll be the last ones left to cover the retreat next time we hunt bandits!"
Rosso Brune laughed heartily and strode to the front of the line: "Rupert, don't worry, I guarantee they'll be able to coordinate seamlessly with the people of the Dyre Den within three days!"
These young people, all from Crab Claw Peninsula, grew up together. After all, Crab Claw Peninsula isn't small, but it's not exactly huge either.
These nobles on the peninsula, all descendants of the same First Men, have maintained contact among their younger generations since ancient times in order to resist foreign enemies.
Therefore, even when the peninsula's inhabitants are not fighting against external enemies, they will kill each other internally. Family blood feuds are as dark and deep as the swamps in the mountains. When external enemies invade, they will still unite to fight back.
Of course, since Aegon's conquest, under the rule of the Iron Throne and the threat of the Targaryen, these blood feuds have slowly begun to fade over the past century.
Although friction still exists on the peninsula, it is indeed more united than in the past, especially now, under the "rule" of a Targaryen prince riding a dragon.
At this moment, Berna Brune, the cousin of Rosso Brune standing behind him, nodded in agreement. This patriarch of the Brune family, the young Earl of Dyre Den, was dressed today in a dark brown, fitted outfit, and the rust on the longsword passed down from his deceased father, the former Count Bren, had faded.
However, that was something Daemon had specially commissioned the Smith recruited from King's Landing to reforge for him some time ago. "His Highness has given us the best iron and armor. If we still can't train capable soldiers, then the Brune family will have no face to show in Crab Claw Peninsula in the future."
At the edge of the training ground, Rayford Rosby was checking supplies with an account book, while his attendant held a pile of parchment recording the number of soldiers and supplies consumed by each family.
"Earl Berna, the Dyre Den has dispatched three hundred private soldiers this time, with provisions provided at a rate of two catties of wheat cakes and half a catty of salted meat per person per day, which have already been prepared and stored in the west warehouse."
His pen swept across the paper, "The House Boggs's the Smith has rushed to make fifty battle axes, the House Cave has sent two hundred shields, and the refugees from the House Hardy and House Pyne have been settled, with the able-bodied men all incorporated into the reserve force."
Berna nodded his thanks, his gaze drifting towards the castle construction site deep within Dragon's Roost Port.
The stone walls there have been built to a height of ten feet, and the craftsmen recruited earlier are reinforcing them using the Myr technique. The Allan maesters of the Citadel stand by, instructing the refugees on how to cultivate terraced fields around the castle, where the salt-tolerant rye seedlings have already sprouted tender green shoots.
"We've always trusted Lord Rayford's abilities." He changed the subject, "It's just that recently the bandits inland have been quite rampant. Last week they raided a refugee camp on the edge of the swamp, stealing a considerable amount of food and tools."
Rayford frowned, about to speak, when he saw Jarman Waters leading Grey Ghost toward him, his single eye gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
"His Highness already knows," Jarman's voice was low. "The Shadow Guards have discovered that this group of bandits are remnants of the old nobles who previously resisted our land reclamation efforts. They are hiding in a cave deep within Black Hill, and have also colluded with some Wildlings who refuse to submit to the king's rule. Their numbers are about five hundred, and they possess a considerable number of rusty weapons."
The Grey Ghost seemed to understand the words "bandits," and murmured in the direction of Black Hill, its light gray dragon scales gleaming coldly in the light.
This little dragon has now grown to be half a person's height. Although its Dragonfire are not as swift as the Glutton's, they are exceptionally precise. During the last raid on the swamp bandits, a single burst of Dragonfire burned through the bandits' boat ropes, making it a "lucky charm" in the soldiers' eyes.
"Perfect, let the recruits practice." A steady voice came, Daemon, riding Glutton, landed in the center of the training ground after his daily patrol. The Black Dragon's wings swept across the ground, creating a gust of wind.
He was wearing that black dragon scale armor today, with the Blackfyre slung across his waist, the dragon pattern on the scabbard echoing the dragon scales. "Rupert, you take Myles and Tybolt, along with the brothers conscripted by the Crownlands, your House Crabb's private soldiers, and the Black Hill, and attack the cave from the front."
Berna and Rosso, you take your men from House Brune and the other lords of the peninsula and block both exits:
Harlan, you will personally lead our archer brothers to ambush on the mountaintop to prevent those bandits from breaking through;
As for Jarman, the mission you're assigned this time is extremely difficult. You'll need to personally lead your Shadow Guards brothers to infiltrate ahead of time and find out the bandits' deployment.
"Yes, sir!" the crowd responded in unison, their eyes filled with fighting spirit.
Before setting off, as was customary, Gael arrived carrying a food box, accompanied by Brienne Tarth and Lia Osgrey, as well as Mysaria and Johanna Swann. Her light purple dress fluttered in the wind.
"These are freshly baked honey cakes; take them with you on the road." She handed over the food box, then looked at Rupert and the others, "Be careful, the bandits are cunning; don't fall into an ambush. Alys has already prepared some ointment for external injuries; she's had Maester Marvin accompany the medical team."
Alys Rivers stood beside Gael, her green cloak hood slipped down, and she carried a medicine box in her hand. "The cave is damp, and the bandits might be carrying poisoned arrows. I'll go with the medical team so we can treat the wounded promptly."
Hearing this, Bethany, standing behind her, exclaimed with excitement for the unknown, "I'll go too! The herbs in Black Hill have special medicinal effects in humid environments; perhaps we can find new medicinal plants."
Seeing the other's burning gaze, Daemon reluctantly nodded in agreement, then mounted the dragon's back. "Let's go!"
The Glutton let out a dragon's roar, spread its wings and took to the air, with the Grey Ghost following closely behind. Pale gray Dragonfire occasionally swept across the treetops, startling a flock of birds.
The cave deep within Black Hill was indeed well-hidden, its entrance concealed by vines, allowing only one person to pass sideways.
Jarman and his Shadow Guards had already scouted the route beforehand and marked it on the rock face.
Rupert led his men in preparation for a frontal assault. The moment the battle axe cleaved through the vines, dozens of poisoned arrows shot out from the cave. Fortunately, the soldiers were prepared and raised their shields to block them. Only two men were accidentally grazed. Maester Marvin and his men immediately stepped forward to apply ointment, and the bleeding from the wounds quickly stopped.
"Listen up, you inside! Lay down your weapons and surrender, and His Highness will forgive your transgressions!" Rosso Brune shouted into the cave, his voice echoing inside.
His response was a burst of maniacal laughter, mixed with the roars of Wildlings: "Dragon's lackeys! This land belongs to us! You outsiders should all die!"
Daemon's eyes turned cold, and he whispered something to the Glutton. The Black Dragon swooped down and spewed a mouthful of black Dragonfire at the cave entrance. The flames spread along the rock wall, and a scream came from inside the cave.
"Last chance!" Daemon's voice echoed through the cavern through the dragon's roar. "Those who surrender will be granted land and educated by me; those who resist will be reduced to dust by the dragon 'Dragonfire!"
The roars inside the cave gradually subsided. A moment later, a man covered in blood emerged, carrying a weapon, followed by dozens of ragged bandits and Wildlings. Clearly, the arrogant Wildlings leader from earlier had been reduced to ashes.
"We surrender, but we beg Your Highness to spare our lives." The man's voice trembled, his eyes filled with fear.
Daemon leaped off the dragon's back, his Blackfyre unsheathed, its tip pointing to the ground. "Swear allegiance to the Iron Throne, to the Crownlands, and from this day forward cease your plundering. Settle into farming or serve in the army, and I will spare your lives."
The man knelt on both knees, and those behind him followed suit, swearing an oath in unison.
Daemon sheathed his sword and whispered to Rupert, "Take them back to Dragon's Roost Port. Incorporate the bandits into the reserve force, and hand the Wildlings over to the Black Hill Tribe's sages who have already received education, so they can learn farming and manners."
Alys Rivers appeared unnoticed, walking skillfully to the side of an injured Wildlings. She placed her fingertips on his wrist, took out some herbs from her medicine box, and crushed them. "Your wound was caused by poison vines, but fortunately it's not serious."
She looked up at the other Wildlings, "The herbs of Black Hill can cure all diseases. As long as you are willing to submit, His Highness will give you a peaceful life."
Bethany didn't mind her surroundings. She squatted down and quickly took notes on the Wildlings's clothing and the plants in the cave, occasionally asking Alys Rivers, "What's the mechanism of this purple vine's toxicity? How is it different from the similar poisonous plant in your book?"
Alys Rivers responded calmly, "They're both neurotoxins, but the antidote for this vine is nearby, while the poisonous herb in my book requires Dragonblood Grass to neutralize it; they're fundamentally different."
After clearing out the bandits, the group had just returned to Dragon's Roost Port when they received an urgent report from the docks.
Taking advantage of the high tide, pirates from the Narrow Sea attacked a merchant ship that was loading and unloading cargo, stealing a shipment of wine and grain from the Reach and injuring several sailors.
"Probably one of Bloodtooth Pyke's men!" Colin Celtigar strode over, his face contorted with rage as he returned from escorting supplies from Crab Island. "This guy is a distant relative of House Greyjoy of the Iron Islands. He's been entrenched on the eastern side of the Narrow Sea long before the Iron Islands' audience with the Iron Throne, and recently he's started harassing our shipping lanes."
Harlan Hunter, who had returned and rested, was already standing on the dock with his longbow in hand, the arrows in his quiver coated with Dragonglass powder. "Your Highness, I will lead archers in a fast boat to pursue them and we will surely recapture the supplies!"
Little Horas Redwyne Jr., standing behind him, also volunteered. "Our House Redwyne's sprinters are fast and familiar with the Narrow Sea route, so let's go together!"
Daemon nodded. "Colin, call Alyn on patrol, and take my Blackfyre and three fast ships from the harbor to intercept them from the front."
Harlan, Little Horas., you two are responsible for flanking them. Rupert, you rest now and let Lyonel and his men, who have finished their patrol, take two hundred soldiers to guard the dock to prevent the pirates from counterattacking.
The Glutton took to the air again, its dark dragon silhouette circling the sea, and soon spotted the pirate fleet. Daemon gave the order, and the Black Dragon spewed Dragonfire, burning down the masts of the pirate ships, throwing the pirates into chaos.
Colin and his crew steered Daemon's "Blackfyre" into the pirate flagship. The bow rammed into the gunwale, and the pirate ship tilted instantly.
Harlan Hunter stood on the deck of the speedboat and shot an arrow through the shoulder of the pirate leader, "Bloodtooth" Pyke. Little Horas. seized the opportunity to lead the sailors onto the pirate ship and engage in hand-to-hand combat with the pirates.
"Drop your weapons! Surrender and you will not be killed!" Although young, Little Horas swiftly deflected a pirate with a scimitar that was trying to approach with his short sword, his voice booming.
Seeing their leader wounded and being attacked from both sides, the pirates threw down their weapons and surrendered.
Colin and Alyn Redwyne, who had just returned from their patrol and were cooperating in the operation, had the supplies inventoried. They not only recovered the stolen wine and grain, but also seized a batch of gold, silver, and spices looted by the pirates.
"Should we hand these pirates over to Master of Ships Corlys?" Colin asked.
"No need." Daemon looked at "Bloodtooth" Pyke being escorted in by his men, and recalled that Taimond Lannister had privately told him about the fate of Dagon Greyjoy, who caused the Burning of Lannisport, and suddenly had an inspiration.
"Lock him in the dungeons of Dragon's Roost Port, let him watch our port prosper, and send a message to Gorne Greyjoy, telling him to keep his men in check, or the Dragonfire will reach Pyke next time."
Having dealt with the pirates, night had fallen in Dragon's Roost Port. Rayford was taking stock of the spoils, registering spices and gold and silver into the warehouse, while distributing wine to the soldiers and refugees as a celebratory drink.
"Your Highness, in this campaign to suppress bandits and pirates, we seized approximately five hundred cartloads of grain, three thousand gold and silver coins, a quantity of spices, and also incorporated two hundred bandits and fifty Wildlings into our ranks."
He handed over the ledger. "Scholar Allan said that the recruited refugees could supplement the terraced field reclamation, and the Wildlings, familiar with the terrain of the Black Hill Marsh caves, could assist in digging irrigation canals."
Daemon glanced through the ledgers and nodded, saying, "Let Racallio know that the Narrow Sea route is safe; his merchant ships can travel there without worry."
He recalled the news Racallio had sent from the Summer Isles, suggesting that the islanders had likely established themselves there and were now frequently sending him local specialties such as coconut wine and gemstones.
Gael, along with Mysaria and Johanna, brought over some hot soup. Seeing the dust on Daemon's clothes, she quickly handed him a towel. "You must be exhausted. Alys said you inhaled some smoke and dust outside the cave. Have some hot soup to warm yourself up."
Johanna, standing behind her, held out a clean shirt. "This was just washed. Put it on, so you don't catch a cold."
On the training ground, soldiers sang around the campfire, while the younger generation of these "semi- Wildlings" nobles from Crab Claw Peninsula gathered together to drink and discuss the day's achievements.
"In the past, our Crab Claw Peninsula fought its own battles. Let alone clearing out bandits, it was difficult to even avoid robbing each other."
The second son of the Boggs took a swig of ale. "Now that His Highness is here, and the dragon is protecting us, we can finally live in peace!"
The second son of the Keffer family chimed in, "His Highness not only gave us ironware and food, but also had the maesters of the Citadel teach us farming. A lord like that is well worth following!"
Representatives from the House Hardy and House Pyne nodded, their eyes filled with gratitude.
The maesters of the Citadel gathered around another campfire. Maester Allan, holding a sketch, discussed the irrigation plan for the terraced fields with Maester Samuel: "According to the stars, there will be several light rains next month, which will be perfect for the terraced fields to collect water. We can build reservoirs at higher elevations to collect the rainwater."
While organizing the day's wounded records, Maester Marvin said to Bethany beside him, "Dragonblood Grass combined with local herbs is much more effective in treating external injuries than when used alone. You can write that down."
Bethany was writing quickly, but her gaze kept drifting towards Daemon, where she saw him talking quietly with Gael, a complex look flashing in her eyes.
Alys Rivers sat down beside her, followed her gaze, and said softly, "Some things can't be forced."
Bethany looked away and pursed her lips. "I'm just curious, how exactly did he manage to bring these unruly lords and Wildlings under his control?"
"Because he understands both ruthlessness and benevolence." Alys Rivers looked at the cheering crowd around the campfire. "Dragonfire can intimidate enemies, but land, stability, and respect are what truly win hearts and minds."
Daemon seemed to notice their gazes, turned his head, and raised his glass in a gesture of greeting.
Bethany calmly raised her glass in response, but a sense of disappointment welled up inside her.
She knew she could never reach the core of Daemon; at this moment, his secrets and his tenderness belonged only to Gael and the land he had cultivated with his own hands.
As night fell, the bonfires at Dragon's Roost Port gradually died down, leaving only the lighthouse at the pier still glowing faintly.
Daemon stood on the castle's foundation, gazing at the sleeping harbor. Glutton lay beside him, its black dragon scales gleaming dark gold in the moonlight, while Grey Ghost curled at his feet, emitting satisfied snoring.
Gael walked over to him and leaned on his shoulder. "Are you tired today? Rupert said the soldiers are in high spirits and looking forward to the next campaign to achieve more merits."
"As long as they can protect Dragon's Roost Port and their homeland, that's enough." Daemon grasped her hand. "Vaegon wrote that the old maesters of the Citadel are still inquiring about me, but those sent here have gradually integrated into the community, and Maester Allan even wants to move to Dragon's Roost Port."
"That's because they saw hope here." Gael looked up at the starry sky. "Look, even the stars are shining for Dragon's Roost Port."
Daemon followed her gaze and saw a dazzling starry sky, where the sound of the waves of the Narrow Sea mingled with the low growls of dragons.
He knew that the road to Dragon's Roost Port was still long, and there might be even stronger enemies and unknown risks, but as long as he had Gael by his side, these loyal followers and devoted lords, and the Dragonfire of the Glutton and Dreamfyre, he could protect this land and this hard-won peace.
The following morning, Dragon's Roost Port awoke once more. Rayford began allocating resources and preparing to build a reservoir; Jarman, with his Shadow Guards, patrolled the docks, checking for potential safety hazards.
The Rupert and House Bren continued training soldiers; the maesters of the Citadel were busy improving agriculture and medicine; and the lords returned to their respective territories to convey Daemon's instructions and organize the people to participate in construction.
Daemon stood on the training ground, looking at the neat formations, the thriving docks and terraced fields in the distance, and the loyal people and lords, his heart filled with determination.
He drew his Blackfyre, its tip pointing to the sky, and the Glutton let out a long, resounding dragon roar that echoed across Crab Claw Peninsula.
"From this day forward, within the Crownlands, the elderly will be provided for, children will be educated, farmers will have their land, and warriors will have their armor!"
Daemon's voice echoed throughout the arena, "Anyone who dares to invade my territory will be mercilessly punished under the dragon 'Dragonfire; anyone who wishes to submit, I, Daemon Blackfyre of Targaryen Lineage, swear by the Great Blackfyre in my hand, that I will protect you!"
Soldiers raised their weapons and cheered, lords bowed in salute, and the people were moved to tears.
In the morning light of Dragon's Roost Port, the cold gleam of the Blackfyre intertwined with the warmth of the Dragonfire, illuminating this rising land and the legendary journey of Daemon Blackfyre as he rewrote destiny.