Dark schemes in the harbor

Racallio's hearty laughter had not yet dissipated in the morning breeze of Dragon's Roost Port, and the lingering scent of palm leaves and the cool fragrance of gemstones on the bluestone of the dock had just been crushed by the footsteps of passersby when Ellyn Beesbury and Maester Maron had already quietly slipped away from the crowd of people exchanging pleasantries under the pretext of adjusting their robes.

The two huddled in the dense shade of the old pine tree, their gazes fixed on Racallio's emerald-green hair and beard, their fingertips trembling slightly with barely suppressed calculation.

The hardwoods and gem mines of the Summer Isles that Racallio, as well as his undisguised familiarity with Daemon, were all seen by them as "stepping stones" to Otto's advancement.

"The King of the Narrow Sea's relationship with the Black Dragon is probably even deeper than the rumors suggest." Maester Maron lowered his voice, his knuckles white as he gripped the tome. "Lord Otto will reward anyone who can extract even a single word about the Black Dragon's movements from him or his men."

Ellyn Beesbury rubbed his ink-stained fingers, his bright yellow brocade robe gleaming greasy in the shade of the trees, and a fawning smile spread across his face, "Don't worry, there are plenty of ways to deal with these roughnecks from pirate backgrounds. We'll use discussing gem trade as a pretext, and I guarantee they'll spill everything they know. After all, nobody wants to mess with a golden dragon."

The two thought their plan was meticulous, but they didn't notice that behind the stone wall not far away, the hands of the brothers Arad House Royce and Jorvik House Royce were already on their sword hilts. The eyes of the Shadow Guards were like a spider web, firmly binding their every move. Even the subtle movements of exchanging glances were silently recorded on parchment hidden in the shadows.

Meanwhile, inside the council chamber, Daemon was accepting a bottle of coconut wine from Racallio, completely unaware that a clumsy probing operation targeting him had quietly begun in the harbor.

Meanwhile, Ellyn Beesbury and Maester Maron finally found an opportunity to get close to the men Racallio had brought.

Ellyn Beesbury, dressed in a bright yellow brocade robe and clutching a bag of gold dragons, wore his signature obsequious smile, "My lord, I've heard that gems are very cheap in the Summer Isles? We'd like to do some gem business. Could you perhaps offer some guidance? For example, where can we find the best quality gems, and how should we deal with tribal chiefs?"

Racallio's men were all seasoned veterans of the Narrow Sea, and their leader, a former impoverished nobleman from Essos, saw right through the two men's schemes.

Their air of superiority and disdain for commoners was so strong that even the shallow calculation in their eyes was impossible to hide.

The old pirate deliberately flattered, "The best quality gems definitely come from Jhala, but you'll need to Westeros your Iron Islands Lord Gorne Greyjoy for a favor. He's now the rightful Lord King of the Iron Throne Iron Islands, and his trade between the Summer Isles and Slaver's Bay is booming! I've also heard he's on very good terms with your Prince Daemon. You could try to cooperate with him; you might even get some preferential treatment."

Maester Maron pressed on, nearly dropping the book in his hands. "What has King Gorne been busy with lately?"

Besides trade, does he have any other collaborations with our Prince Daemon? For example—expanding his fleet or something like that?

The old pirate deliberately lowered his voice, feigning mystery. "The Iron Islands sailors we trade with say that King Gorne is building new ships, supposedly to expand trade in the Summer Isles with His Highness Daemon. He might even join your Joint Fleet patrolling the Narrow Sea!"

The two idiots believed it and were so excited they almost jumped for joy.

They hastily thanked the old pirate and ran back to their tent to begin writing intelligence for Otto. Their excitement even made their handwriting scramble. "Black Dragon has colluded with Ironborn, expanding his fleet, intending to unite with pirates to control trade in the Narrow Sea; he may harbor rebellious intentions—"

These two self-important fools have probably long forgotten that just last night, Daemon beheaded Bloodtooth Pyke, the Iron Islands ' High Overlord Gorne Greyjoy's cousin, along with all his men.

Yesterday, they were terrified upon hearing of Daemon's execution of pirates, but now they knew perfectly well that the Dark Blade Guard had already set up listening posts outside the tent. The intelligence report had just been written down when it was secretly replaced with a different copy. This was something Larys Strong had specifically instructed after discussing it with Jarman and Daemon. He wanted to see how the shrewd Lord Otto Hightower would react after receiving such absurd intelligence.

As evening fell, Daemon hosted a banquet for Racallio at the makeshift castle. The banquet was held in the open courtyard, with oil lamps hanging all around, their light casting a warm glow on the surrounding stone walls.

The long table was laden with Dragon's Roost Port's current "specialties":

The roasted wild boar has a crispy skin, and when you cut into it, the oil flows out.

The smoked salmon had a pale pink hue and was sprinkled with herbs brought from the Reach.

The sweet cherry pie is covered in a thick layer of icing sugar, and every bite is bursting with fruity flavor;

There were also wines from the Redwyne fleet's Arbor and Racallio coconut wine from the Summer Isles, the former being full-bodied and the latter sweet.

Racallio, caught up in the moment and drunk, slammed his fist on the table as he recounted his recent adventures on the Summer Isles: "The tribal chief I married is incredibly powerful! She controls a lot of hardwood forests and can even make poison from the sap of the Talking Tree —anyone who dares to rob her gem mine won't survive three days!"

As he spoke, he pulled a palm-sized earthenware jar from his pocket, its mouth sealed with a cork, and boasted exaggeratedly, "This is the poison she gave me for self-defense. I'm giving it to you today, Brother Little Daemon! It's lethal upon contact with blood, probably even faster than your Blackfyre!"

Daemon took the earthenware jar and placed it on the stone table beside him. "Thank you, but Dragon's Roost Port has no use for this. We have the Glutton's Dragonfire, which is more effective than any poison."

Racallio didn't press the issue, picked up a bottle of coconut wine and took a swig. "By the way, I overheard a fisherman while I was strolling in the harbor today saying that you and Gael Gerald want to have a child?"

In the Summer Isles, there's a Talking Tree that produces fruit that can bless women with a smooth childbirth. I'll have someone send some over for you later!

Gael's face instantly turned bright red. She gently tugged at Daemon's sleeve and whispered, "Don't listen to the sailors' nonsense in the harbor!"

This caused a burst of laughter from everyone, and even Budimir Tarth, who was usually calm and collected and was in charge of Daemon's safety, couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth.

Racallio laughed even harder, his purple and orange beard and hair shaking. "I'm not making this up! I heard from the island's natives that all the women on the island eat this, and they have smooth childbirths. Even the old priest recommends it!"

Seeing that Racallio was so drunk he was practically rambling, Bethany seized the opportunity to press him again about the Talking Tree of the Summer Isles, practically shoving her notebook in front of him. "Racallio Racallio, are those Dragon Mark on the Talking Tree you mentioned related to the magical runes in Old Valyria that contain mysterious power?"

Racallio scratched his head, his purple and orange hair a mess. "I don't know the specifics either, I only know that the runes on it look a bit like the Dragon Mark you mentioned."

I'll have the tribe's priest translate for you later, but you have to bring the wine first!

Upon hearing this, Bethany immediately feigned delight. "No problem! I'll have ten jars sent to the Summer Isles tomorrow!"

Alys Rivers sat in the corner, watching this scene, and quietly said to Daemon, "From what I understand, the fruit of the Talking Tree in the Summer Isles does have a calming effect, but excessive consumption can cause dizziness. It shouldn't be given to Her Highness. It's safest for her to continue with my prescription; we can't let her try these foreign things."

Daemon nodded. "I know, I won't let her touch it." He looked at Gael, who was eating a sweet pie with her head down, her light purple eyes full of tenderness, and he felt much more at ease.

Halfway through the banquet, Jarman Waters quietly approached Daemon, his one eye gleaming sharply in the lamplight. "Your Highness, Ellyn Beesbury and Maester Maron have already sent out the false intelligence. The Shadow Guards brothers are riding alongside ravens, and we can confirm that it is being sent towards King's Landing's Landing."

A cold glint flashed in Daemon's eyes. "Let Ellyn Beesbury and that Maester Maron cause trouble for a few more days. After all, they were sent by Otto through the Iron Throne Small Council during his reign. Once Otto receives the intelligence, they might make new moves, and we can take advantage of that."

Jarman bowed in agreement, then turned and quietly left. Now, after training and study, his steps were as light as a cat's.

As night deepened, the banquet ended. Racallio led his men back to his ship, preparing to leave as soon as possible.

Daemon escorted him to the pier; the cool sea breeze caused their robes to flutter gently.

Racallio patted Daemon on the shoulder. "I'll find a translator for the Talking Tree runes for you when I get back, and I'll let you know as soon as there's any news about Ironborn."

If pirates cause trouble in the Narrow Sea, I will help you clear them out immediately—after all, only when your ports are secure can my trade with Westeros and the Summer Isles proceed more smoothly.

Daemon nodded. "Alright, have a safe journey. If you encounter any trouble, send a message towards Dragon's Roost Port, and the Joint Fleet will assist you."

0

Racallio grinned, revealing two rows of neat teeth. "Don't worry! I'm not so easily defeated by those toothless bastards!"

He turned and jumped onto the ship, waving to Daemon until the merchant ship gradually sailed away from the dock before returning to his cabin.

The Glutton, which had been circling in the air today, let out a deep dragon roar, as if bidding him farewell. The dark dragon shadow circled once in the night sky before flying back to the hills.

Back at the temporary castle, Gael leaned on Daemon's shoulder, her voice as gentle as the evening breeze. "Although this pirate leader is mad, he's quite straightforward. Dealing with him is much more comfortable than dealing with those hypocritical nobles."

Daemon embraced her, his fingers gently stroking her long hair. "He's a pure pirate, only concerned with profit, but he's still better than those hypocrites Otto. He sometimes has ideals; at least he won't resort to underhanded schemes."

He recalled the Talking Tree that Racallio had mentioned and the Dragon Mark -like runes on it. A Bethany's obsession with the Dragon Mark on his body was growing stronger, Alys seemed to know something as well. Perhaps the secret of the Talking Tree could unlock the mystery of the Dragon Mark on his body.

Furthermore, while Gorne Greyjoy's actions may temporarily benefit Dragon's Roost Port, we cannot let our guard down, as the Ironborn's nature is hard to change.

In a tent not far away, Bethany was facing her notebook, repeatedly tracing the runes of the Talking Tree that Racallio had casually drawn with a charcoal pencil.

The runes were crooked and twisted, but they couldn't hide the fervor in her eyes. She firmly believed that as long as she could decipher these runes, she could understand the secret of the Dragon Mark on Daemon's body, and even master the power of Old Valyria, becoming someone who could stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

Alys Rivers stood behind her, looking at the runes in the notebook, a complex light flashing in her eyes. She sighed softly, turned, and left.

Those runes were probably left by the ancient Old Valyria dragonborn who were stranded on the Summer Isles after the cataclysmic destruction of the ancient Valyrian Freehold.

Unfortunately, Bethany was already blinded by her obsession and wouldn't listen to any advice.

In the document room, Rayford had gone back to organize the trade lists brought by Racallio, with Tommen House Peake assisting in the classification.

"Ten pieces of Goldenheart, each three zhang long, are suitable for the main beams of the castle;"

Fifty emeralds, of medium quality, suitable for jewelry making or trade;

One hundred barrels of coconut wine, with a moderate sweetness, can be distributed to soldiers and refugees;

Fifty fruits from the Talking Tree are temporarily stored in the warehouse, pending inspection by Lady Alys before further processing.

Rayford read the list aloud, his pen gliding across the parchment, the handwriting neat and clear.

Tommen nodded in agreement, adding, "Brother Lyonel just sent someone to ask if we could use Goldenheart to make the fence for the training ground, saying that ordinary wood is easily damaged by the recruits."

Rayford replied, "Okay, have him send someone to collect two tomorrow, and keep the rest for building the castle."

On the training ground, Lyonel and Rupert, taking advantage of the evening sea breeze and the effects of alcohol, reviewed the day's training.

Lyonel held the training records in his hand, his brows furrowed slightly. "The recruits' slashing movements are already proficient, but their nighttime reaction time is not fast enough."

Starting tomorrow, we might increase nighttime training, simulating pirate raids, to help them adapt to the dark environment.

Rupert nodded. "I've already arranged for the House Royce twins to set up three outposts around the port, each manned by ten Shadow Guards, so they can relay messages immediately if anything happens."

As night deepened at Dragon's Roost Port, the lighthouse at the pier still shone faintly, its orange-red glow casting a halo on the sea and illuminating the shipping lanes along the Narrow Sea.

Racallio's merchant ships have begun to disappear into the horizon, leaving behind the secrets of the Summer Isles and potential turmoil;

The false intelligence from Ellyn and Maron is heading to King's Landing; Otto's reaction is still unknown.

Bethany's obsession with the Dragon Mark grows ever stronger, while Alys's hidden motives remain unrevealed;

Bloodtooth Pyke's final, desperate roar faded into the now empty dungeon, yet it remained like a shadow, a constant reminder to Daemon: beneath the surface of peace, undercurrents never cease to surge.

Daemon stood on the high platform, his arm around Gael, looking down at the twinkling lights below.

The Glutton lay once more on the hill it had once occupied, its dark dragon scales gleaming with a dark gold hue in the moonlight;

The Dreamfyre once again soared high in the sky, its pale blue dragon wings sweeping across the night, intertwining with the distant starlight;

The Grey Ghost curled up on the bed at Daemon and Gael's feet, emitting satisfied snores.

As for Daemon, who had already drifted off to sleep with Gael beside him, he knew, and still understood, that Racallio's visit today was just a prelude, and that many more challenges awaited him in the future.

The undercurrents of the Iron Islands, the secrets of the Summer Isles, Otto's scheming, Bethany's spying, and the pirate threat of the Narrow Sea.

But as long as he has Gael by his side, loyal followers like Jarman, Lyonel, and Rayford, and the protection of Dragonfire, he can defend this land, build Dragon's Roost Port into a truly indestructible fortress, and continue to write his own legend in the past century.