They covered ground fast in those months. With the dragons soaring overhead with the last Targaryens on their backs, morale soared too. The Unsullied, the freedmen and the new recruits marched on faster than ever, and more and more men flooded to the dragon banner. In addition to Dany's ten thousand Unsullied, there were fifteen thousand freedmen who had joined her in the slave cities, and about thirteen thousand who had joined her banners since she set off from Mereen. Amongst these were two minor khalasars that her column had absorbed; her army would have wiped them out for the food their horses offered, and most of the dothraki had been glad to join the 'dragon khaleesi' and fight for her anyway. Women were being trained alongside men, and although Ser Barristan was doubtful about it, it seemed to be working. The dothraki women revelled in it, and the few freedwoman who had come were strong and willing to fight already. Dany made sure moon tea was freely available everywhere and left her soldiers to get on with it. She didn't bother with moon tea herself – she was not in Westeros yet, however much she hoped that once she did she would fall pregnant with an heir for the iron throne. She had shared her fears about the prophecy with Viserys, and he was not judgemental or angry as she had feared. Instead, he had reprimanded her for not sharing it with him sooner, to lighten her load, and then entreated her not to worry about it. "We have come this far," he would say. "All will take care of itself in time, if we help it." And Dany was glad to 'help it'; she and Viserys enthusiastically 'helped it' every night in their tent.

The dragons were happy, too, Dany thought. Viserion grew closer to Viserys, and Viserys swore that the cream-and-gold understood everything that was said to him. Rhaegal, though restless and testier than the other two, soon grew used to being ridden by Dany for an hour or so every day. Drogon hated these hours and tailed Rhaegal constantly, snarling and grumbling fretfully until Dany landed Rhaegal and flew with him instead. She shared his discomfort, a little: she felt more at ease with her great black son, and was able to relax more with him. She thought guiltily that she probably loved him more than Viserion or Rhaegal. But she did ride Rhaegal every day, and vowed to continue doing so until she had a child who could ride Rhaegal instead. Dany was careful to uphold her bond with Viserion, too. He was her child as well, and though it was not often, she sometimes rode him as well. This made Drogon even more anxious, and his mood would make the other dragons testy as well.

"Dany!" Viserys called one morning, after camp had been broken and they were flying over the column.

Daenerys twisted in her seat to look for him. Her leatherworker had been able to construct three rudimentary saddles to sit between the first two spines on the dragons' necks, just behind their heads. These saddles had to be adjusted almost daily, because the dragons were still growing rapidly, but they were comfortable, and they allowed the legs to be strapped to the sides of the dragon's neck. This made evasive aerial manoeuvres like rolls and tilts possible. Viserys and Dany were in intensive training, trying to come up with as many scenarios as possible, and solutions to them all. Dany's favourite was the scenario in which the enemy would fire flaming arrows at them. To escape, Drogon would fly directly upwards, twisting as he went, only to arc, sending her upside down, before he plunged straight down to twist out of the dive and roar, flaming, directly over the enemy's heads, destroying them. Dany loved Drogon fiercely, with a passion she had thought she was incapable of feeling for anyone but Drogo or Viserys. She loved Viserys differently to the way that she had loved her sun-and-stars – Viserys was a passionate, desperate love, utterly natural, something she had no choice over and was deliciously caught up and lost in, while Drogo had been slow and sweet and surprising. But Drogon was different again. He was magnificent, stunning, something to worship and adulate, something to wonder at again and again. He had hidden depths, too. He loved her just as she loved him, and Dany knew that he was not just the war machine that some of her captains seemed to view him as, nor was he just an animal. Drogon was a person, with a personality more vibrant and forceful than many humans Dany had encountered. She ran her hand over his neck now, murmuring too him. "You're not Drogo, for all I named you for him. You're different, aren't you, shekh ma shieraki anni? He was never defeated, but you don't even know the possibility of defeat. He was savage and untamed, but you are the wild. Viserys is fiery, but you are fire. I wonder, if you could speak my language, would you call me jalan atthirari anni? I hope you would, sweeting."

She turned again to look for Viserys and then Viserion soared overhead, saluting Drogon with a red-hot burst of flame spilling from his jaws. Drogon roared in response, a great bellow that had deepened recently. Viserion tipped sideways, circling them, so that Viserys could see down to them.

"We're nearing Pentos, Dany!" he called, his voice happy on the wind. He was always happy when airborne. He said it was because the sky contained everything he needed – his dragon, and crucially, Dany.

"What say we go and find Magister Illyrio's manse and singe it a little?" Dany shouted back, knowing the idea would make her brother laugh.

It did. "What an idea!" Viserys laughed in mock-anger.

Dany whispered a command to Drogon, who began to beat his wings faster, pulling ahead of Viserion. "Last one there is a wingless dragon!" she called over her shoulder.

Viserys' response was lost in the wind, but Viserion too began to fly faster. Rhaegal, flying on Drogon's left flank, speeded up as well, and they soon left the column far behind. Soon, they could see Pentos up ahead. The glittering domes and spires which had rejected them for so long would be desperately appealing to Viserys for a burning, Dany knew.

"Hold back!" she shouted across to him. "Don't set it all alight!"

"What about a little bit of it?" Viserys asked laughingly.

"We'll fly overhead," Dany decided. "Circle a bit, and then flame into the air! Let them know we've arrived! But only into the air, Viserys!"

The three dragons reached the vast city and circled lower, twisting over the centre. Screams and shouts drifted up to Dany on the wind as people saw them. She was reminded of all the people there must be in there – the children, the beggars, like she and Viserys had been. "Only into the air, remember?" she called again.

"I'm not a fool, Dany!" Viserys hollered back.

They nodded to each other, and then both shouted at the top of their voices. "Dracarys!"

Instantly, all three dragons gaped wide their jaws, pouring three floods of fire before them as they circled, just high enough into the air for the buildings not to be set alight. Viserys laughed as the screams emanating from below intensified. Dany patted Drogon's red-veined neck. "Enough, shekh ma shieraki anni."

Drogon reluctantly closed his mouth, the gleaming ebony teeth slotting perfectly together. Rhaegal stopped flaming too, and Viserion, after expelling a last burst, closed his lips as well.

"Come," Viserys said, his voice clear in the silence after the fire. "We'll go back to the column. They'll pitch camp and then no doubt these grovelling merchants will send us gifts and perfumed ambassadors, the way they do the horselords."

"We're worse than any khalasar," Dany replied. "We come on dragonback, not horseback."

Viserys laughed, and for once the sound had real pleasure, though little happiness in it. "We're their worst nightmare. One they won't wake up from, not ever. We'll teach them to defy the Targaryens."

The dragons turned their noses away from the shaking city, and returned to the army. Ser Barristan, as ever, was riding at the head of the column with Dany's handmaidens, bloodriders, Grey Worm and other commanders who had been elevated from the Unsullied or the freedmen, all capable, brave Targaryen loyalists.

Dany unbuckled her legs from the straps on Drogon's neck and slipped to the ground, where Viserys was waiting. He caught her in his arms and kissed her, a little roughly, on the lips. "We have them where we want them," he said, a savage joy in his eyes. "Beggar king, beggar queen – hah! We'll show them, Dany. We'll teach the whores and bastards of this place who really rules this world!"

"Caution, my love," Dany smiled, though a part of her longed to raze Pentos and Magister Illyrio to the ground too. That would show the world that the Tagaryens, the dragonlords, were back. "We must think first."

"My queen," Ser Barristan greeted her, riding up. He bowed his head to Viserys as well. "My lord." Viserys had been determinedly polite and kind to all of the captains and everyone close to Dany, doggedly vowing to force them to change their minds about him. With Ser Barristan at least, this had wreaked results – the old knight responded to nothing so well as courtesy.

"We will burn it to the ground, the whole accursed city!" Viserys spat, his face unnaturally white, his eyes burning, his hand a claw on Dany's arm. Dany had feared this, that this place, where he had been so far from what was truly him, would recall that dark side of his nature.

"We will discuss it calmly and rationally," she said forcefully, making herself sound commanding.

"I'll not have you call me to heel like a dog!" Viserys snarled, jerking away from her.

"Viserys," Dany said, her tone sad. "Please remember. If you're this angry, they control you. When they control you, they win."

Viserys put his hand to his face, running it through his shoulder-length silver hair. "Yes. Of course." He took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry." He reached for her again and bent his head to plant a contrite kiss on her shoulder. "Forgive me."

Dany smiled, proud of his ability to instantly control his anger. "Already forgotten, brother."

"Shall we adjourn to the tent?" Ser Barristan suggested. Dany nodded, and she and Viserys led the way. Viserion and Drogon settled down where they were, yawning and displaying their fangs. Rhaegal followed the humans, the ground shaking a little with each of her steps. The dragons seemed to have developed a sort of rota system recently, with two dragons remaining on the outskirts of camp, while only one followed the Targaryens, to curl around their tent and protect them. This meant that the council tent, and Dany and Viserys' personal tent always had to be pitched well away from the rest of the army, to allow a dragon to lie around it.

They went into the council tent, where servants who were still arranging cushions scurried hastily away. Dany stopped one, a young boy. "Thank you," she said softly to him, and he showed her a gap-toothed grin. Viserys took her hand. "I've never known anyone care so much," he said to Ser Barristan. "Isn't she perfect?"

Ser Barristan inclined his head. "Indeed she is, my lord."

Dany smiled. "Summon the council, please, Ser," she requested, as the warm weight of Rhaegal made the tent dark, pressing against all four walls.

"I say we burn it," Viserys said again, once Ser Barristan had left. "It would show all out enemies that we are to be feared. It would make those who have shunned us quake in their boots."

Dany shook her head. "We must be merciful."

"Would you have us show mercy to everyone?" Viserys objected. "We will fight no battles, win no throne. Just say 'oh, we shall be merciful. Go home, everyone.'"

"Prudence and tactics win as many battles as fire, Viserys," Dany said. "The skill is not in burning, but in knowing when not to burn."

"Now is the time to burn," Viserys said, his face stony.

"No," Dany said flatly. "Not all of it. We wont kill them all."

"You wish to kill some?" Viserys asked, his face brightening. "Why, sweet sister, I never thought to see you bloodthirsty!"

"I want to kill those who have truly wronged us," Dany said. "The Usurper, the Lannisters, the Baratheons."

"The Starks?" Viserys suggested.

"Perhaps," Dany said. "But not these fat merchants. Besides, we can get more from them than their deaths. These people – Illyrio's people – are richer than the rest of the world combined."

Viserys' face broke into a smile. "You brilliant girl!" he laughed. "You wicked, brilliant girl! You want their gold!"

"Exactly," Dany smiled. "We threaten to burn, and then take their peace offerings. They all know what we did to slavers bay."

"Can I at least kill Illyrio?" Viserys asked, suddenly frowning again. "He – the bastard." He fell silent and clenched his fists.

"What is it, my love?" Dany said, her voice soft.

"On your wedding night, I tried to come to you," Viserys said quietly. "I wanted to talk to you, to explain – that to win you our birthright, I had to – to give you away. I wanted you to understand. I wanted….I wanted your maidenhead, I will not lie to you. We were always meant to have each other, no one else. Before I gave you to a savage, I wanted to show you that I loved you, really loved you. But Illyrio posted guards at your door. He kept me from you."

Dany stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. "Never again."

Viserys put his hands on her waist, gripping hard. "No. No one will ever part us again. I will kill them before they take you from me."

"I will kill them," Dany promised him. "I will kill a thousand men before I leave you."

"My Queen, Lord Viserys," Ser Barristan spoke, lifting the tent flap and climbing awkwardly over Rhaegal's tail.

Dany smiled at her brother, who smiled back. She was glad that he was learning patience. That was all that was needed with Ser Barristan.

The other council members followed Ser Barristan into the tent. "My Queen," one of the captains said suddenly. "We must not burn Pentos! We need their alliance."

"We need no one's alliance," Viserys corrected him. "But no, we will not set Pentos afire. We will threaten them, and take their gold. After all, a dragon needs a hoard, does it not? We shall get ours a king's ransom! Pentos shall pay with its lifeblood. And then, when the next khalasar comes looking for gifts, and finds none, Pentos will be destroyed – but not by our hand. No, we shall have been merciful."

Ser Barristan looked at Dany for confirmation, and Dany inclined her head. "We have spoken."

Ser Barristan smiled to himself, and Dany guessed that he had heard a little of their conversation.

"Arrange the troops! Our whole army, all our forces!" Viserys was saying now, his eyes bright again. "Draw them up! We shall fly overhead, and Pentos shall come to grovel at our feet!"

The captains nodded and bowed and dashed out again, falling over each other and Rhaegal in their haste. Trumpets began to sound. Viserys turned to Dany, his smile wide. "We will make them crawl in the dirt before us, Dany. Illyrio will shit himself before I gut him like the whale he is. He will learn what it is to defy the dragon!"

Part of Dany sang in agreement – yes, yes, this is right, we must kill all who have hurt us! – but she shook her head. "Be calm, Viserys. We must always keep our heads."

Viserys laughed too loudly. "Yes, heaven forbid we be executed! Us! Oh, sister, we have done it; Dany, we have won! We have dragons! We will rule them all!"

"Be calm, Viserys," Dany insisted, speaking to herself as much as her brother. "Anger and bloodlust conquered our father and turned him mad, but it will not conquer us."

That checked him. "Yes. Yes of course." He shook his head as though to clear it. "It runs in our blood – madness, as well as fire. Sometimes – I think I walk too close to the precipice. If it weren't for you – I don't know where I would be now. Dead with my head on a spike, most probably."

"Enough, now," Dany shivered. "I don't like to think of myself without you. It is a dark thought – like being without Drogon would be; without a part of myself."

"Come!" Viserys seized her hand and pulled her to the door. "Let us go, let us fly!" he brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled, a loud, piercing noise. "I have taught Viserion to come when I whistle," he explained.

Dany laughed. "That's nothing. Listen." She cupped her hands to her mouth. "Drogon! Come, my love! Drogon!"

A roar sounded from the other side of the camp and the sun was blocked out as Drogon and Viserion rose. "Up, Rhaegal," Dany commanded her green dragon, who was watching them closely with a bright copper eye. "Fly away now, sweeting."

Rhaegal flared her wings and clambered to her feet before launching herself into the air as Drogon and Viserion landed on either side of the tent. Viserys pulled Dany too him for a fierce, loving moment, and kissed her on the mouth. "Fly well, sweet sister," he whispered, and then she laughed and darted away to Drogon, feeling like a child again. Drogon dipped his head as she approached, rumbling in greeting. Dany scrambled up his head, using his cheek spines as a ladder, and settled herself behind his crest. He raised his head as she tightened the straps of the saddle around her legs and hurriedly bound her hair into a dothraki-style braid. It would not do to have it flying in her face today. Viserion took off, his wings making loud claps in the air, and Drogon shifted, impatient to be off. Dany smiled. "Come then, shekh ma shieraki anni," she said. "Fly."

Drogon exploded upwards into the air, the force of his leap carrying him past Viserion. He caught himself with his wings and began to climb, circling rapidly upwards. Dany sensed his fierce urge to kill, and stroked his neck. "Be calm, sweeting. You are like Viserys. Too impatient."

Drogon hissed, and Dany leaned forward to touch her forehead to one of his spines. "I know. You are not like him. You are like me. Bloodthirsty." She pulled in a deep breath. "But revenge is not what we seek now – apart from for Illyrio. He will die. But no others; no innocent blood will soil your claws, love. You are pure, my fiery one, pure as light."

She looked down at Viserion, following below them. Rhaegal screamed from above and let off a jet of flame, and Dany called up to her. "Rhaegal! With me!"

Rhaegal dropped to soar beside Drogon, slightly behind him, and Viserion rose to the other side as Drogon turned his nose to Pentos.

"This is it!" Viserys shouted, his words twisted on the wind. "This is all we have waited for!"

"No!" Dany called back. "This – this is only the beginning!"

Drogon roared as she spoke, almost drowning her words. Below, the bronze spiked caps of the Unsullied gleamed, their perfect rectangular regiments lined up, the mass of freedmen behind them, in more jumbled formations. The army roared back, their wordless cry reaching the Targaryens as they soared towards the city of their enemies.