At dusk, the setting sun dyed the pine forests of Crackclaw Point a deep gold.
Aegon rode his Dothraki horse along the uneven path, passing rows of low houses.
And why had Aegon come here?
That afternoon, when Alyn still had not returned, Aegon had decided to accompany Ser Lubert Celtigar to the harbor Alyn had gone to inspect that morning.
There, however, he learned that around noon, Alyn had received word from the local wildling clans Aegon had previously taken in-those willing to submit to him-and hurried off for some unknown reason. Aegon had therefore been left to tour the coastal harbors of his domain on his own.
And what about the Dothraki horse beneath him?
Rhaenys had given it to him as a Name Day present the previous year, after learning that he had begun practicing with a lance-
A purebred Dothraki horse, with a mane like silver silk and four snow-white feet, more magnificent than any warhorse in the stables of King's Landing.
Even the finest horse could not compare with a dragon, and despite his youth, Aegon was already a Dragonlord who could skillfully command a dragon from its back. But what man could resist a splendid steed?
Even if it could not rival a dragon, it would still come in handy when he entered a tourney someday.
Besides, two years earlier, Aegon had accompanied Rhaenyra to a tourney hosted in the Vale by her cousin, Duchess Jeyne Arryn.
Lady Rhea had been pregnant then-and his uncle Daemon, who had not yet resumed quarreling with Aunt Rhea over their child's name, had gone looking for "some fun"-
Much as Aegon hated to admit it, Daemon's dazzling performance at the tourney at the Gates of the Moon had once again left a deep impression on him.
And