With the fighting at Harrenhal settled, Aegon did not linger. Instead, he came to Riverrun, which the Golden Company had just taken.
Aegon stood aboard a steady little boat as it moved slowly through the debris floating on the water.
Broken planks, splintered timber, thatch, tiles, and even the occasional bloated, pale corpse bobbed in the muddy water.
His gaze passed over the wreckage left by the war and settled on what lay ahead.
Riverrun, which had once stood at the confluence of the Red Fork and the Tumblingstone River, now presented a peculiar sight.
Its towering walls still stood, but the base of the castle and vast stretches of surrounding land, fields, and villages had all been submerged by the overflowing rivers.
Muddy water encircled the castle and the high ground beneath it, forming a vast temporary lake strewn with debris. Riverrun looked more like a lone island in the middle of a lake.
"Leswell and the Golden Company," Aegon said evenly, "performed better in this battle than I expected."
Henry and Luke stood behind him.
Luke kept his head lowered, his expression troubled.
"As expected of a mercenary company that has taken both Qohor and Tyrosh," Aegon continued as the boat glided slowly toward the castle. "Their reputation as the finest in Essos is deserved."
Luke lowered his head further.
His Highness had entrusted him with the battle on the Trident, yet he had made such a mess of it that His Highness had needed to clean up after him personally.
By comparison, the Golden Company, which had faced Riverrun's formidable defenses alone and ultimately taken the castle, seemed to have done better.
The boat slowly approached a patch of high ground that had not been completely submerged and had been cleared to serve as a temporary landing.