Chapter 7: Scorch

The seahorse burned on the hill, its silk aglow as it swayed with the violent winter nights' winds.

"The Lense Hillock is lost," Lelouch said. With it went their chances of holding the docks for much longer. Lashare would not hesitate to send crossbows to harass them as soon as he could. "Ser Bryne and Hughes have begun the retreat."

Donnall grimaced. "The forward lines under Ser Tallfield have repulsed another wave, but they report sightings of a larger muster."

"I am not surprised. Lashare kept the bulk of his men away to keep them from ambush, and now are brought to bare against us," Lelouch said, watching a line of slaves laden with chests board the Merling Wind. "How many of the magisters have made it to us?"

"Besides myself?" Zoutos said. "Rasporos and Glossos."

"With Nine Eyes?" Lelouch asked.

"Yes, with your captive, though I do not see why you insisted on taking him alive. They will pay no ransom for his life, and from what you've told me, Lashare prefers him dead," Zoutos said.

"He has his role to play," Lelouch said and sighed. "Three magisters out of eight… I did not think all of them would make it, but I had hoped to save the greater number."

"The slaves from Kazhare's manse say the Battleborne stormed their gates before the fighting even began," Zoutos said. "That so many of us did not escape suggests treachery to me."

"Who would side with Lashare after all he has done to disparage the Council?"

Zoutos sneered. "I can think of a few. Perhaps Gogolos or Tathtarra. They've always put short term gains over their long term good."

Fucking copper counters. "I did not expect you to still be with us, Magister Zoutos. When you put Omorfia on the first ship out—"

"I am not like Rasporos to abandon my positions so quickly. I will see this night through," Zoutos said.

Lelouch could not help but feel respect for the man. "How many ships are left?"

"Thirty galleys and some merchant ships. Most of the war vessels and trading ships have departed already, as we agreed, though I cannot say how many of them will make it to Driftmark. They were not stocked to feed so many people for such a voyage, and the winds tonight-"

"We can worry about that later. There is little to be done about it either way," Lelouch said, picking up his longbow. "Get on the Season of Tides. We will leave soon."

"What of you?" Zoutos asked.

"The next push will be decisive. My bow has not seen the end of its use yet," Lelouch said. He turned to his cousin. "Light them up."

"We still have some time," Zoutos said.

"You know how long it takes to burn a ship? It'll be too late if we wait for the enemy to be on us."

Donnall did not move. "My place is by your side, or in the shield wall. I am your sword."

"Then do as I say," Lelouch said. His eyes softened, and he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Cousin. There will be plenty of glory to be had in the coming months, and I will need you most then. I have lost enough family to this city. Do not make me risk more."

Donnall nodded reluctantly. "I'll start on the far end of the dock, let the wind do some work."

Lelouch took his place on some stacked crates where their archers had massed and wrinkled his nose at the seaward breeze. The smell of smoke and shit was suffocating.

"My lord," Ser Tallfield said, picking him out easily despite his plain garbs, "you have not departed."

How can I, after what my uncle wrought? Lelouch thought. How many men might waver if he did not prove himself here? How many would abandon him in the next fight?

Empty words and pretty gestures were necessary, but not sufficient.

"Loyal men still fight and die in my name out there," Lelouch said. "I could not save my uncle, but I will not leave without them too."

Tallfield grinned. "Aye, we'll let these sellsword fucks taste Driftmark steel!"

"The old!" Lelouch screamed. "The true!"

"The brave!" came the hoarse reply of two score men.

"Ready to reap!"

The sellswords formed a shield wall of over a hundred men and advanced from the far side of the boulevard.

"Born for battle!"

It was a slow, methodical march that kept their lines intact and would stop their arrows from doing real harm. They'd have to break ranks once they met the makeshift barricade of wagons and tables, but by then the archers could not loose for fear of hitting their own men.

He needed to make a gap. "Loose at will!" Lelouch pointed to four of the men. "With me! Quickly!" He led them to the Season of Tides and said, "Grab the ballista! One of you, bring the bolts!"

They returned with a minute to spare and Tallfield understood the intent immediately. "Archers, hold!"

Lelouch scurried up the crate and judged the distance to the center of the formation, before returning to manually aim it.

The first projectile struck the dense mass of men, coming down at an angle to skewer the head of a man and the chest of the one behind him.

"Archers, loose!" Tallfield said. The well-aimed shots rained down on the sellswords, exploiting the gap to maim a few more men.

Untrained as their crew was, it took a full minute and a half to reload the ballista. In an open field, the sellswords could've scattered, but here they were so densely packed there was nowhere to go unless they broke formation.

It took a few more rounds, but break they did. The sergeant must've realized they could not sustain their losses.

So they broke formation and charged straight at them as a mob. Gut the other man before he guts you.

Cursing, Lelouch picked up a spear. The longer your stick, the longer your reach. He pushed his way to the front, right before the barricade, and thrust upwards, piercing the first man to climb over. "And the sooner you can kill him," Lelouch recited his uncle's words under his breath.

For a moment, it seemed the Driftmark men might hold, but then the weight of numbers told. They had not thinned them enough.

The line between sellswords and men-at-arms blurred as a furious, bloody melee began.

It was a flurry of screams and desperate stabbing to Lelouch and he found himself pushed back and back again. The man with a bloodied yellow shield and yellower, crooked teeth growled.

Lelouch trusted his spear and found it pushed away with a shield. He had misjudged the weight behind his attack. The momentum forced him to drop his spear or be speared himself by Yellow Teeth's knife.

He drew his sword—

Yellow Teeth tackled him before he could, and stabbed at his face with the dagger. Lelouch brought his left hand up and his vision whitened from the pain. Even half-blind, he pushed back, supporting his left hand with his right.

It did nothing but delay. Yellow Teeth pressed down with both hands now, and Lelouch screamed, watching the blade push through his left palm, inch by agonizing inch. Closer towards his face, towards death.

Yellow Teeth was the product of a thousand cutthroats perpetually at war with a thousand other cutthroats. He was just a boy who'd dreamed.

Yellow Teeth snarled. "Die—"

The pressure eased. Lelouch blinked, staring at the knife, his knife, protrude through Yellow Teeth's throat.

Yellow Teeth's deadweight collapsed, and he struggled to push the man's corpse off him.

Cici huffed, pulling the dagger out. "I told you not to die tonight."

"Thanks," Lelouch croaked out. The battle around them was dying down. At some point, Donnall had led the sailors ashore to reinforce their defense and Ser Bryne's party returned to hit the sellswords in the back. The numbers shifted in their favor and their enemies were fleeing.

"Here," Cici said, handing him the knife hilt first. "It seems you need to be kept safe far more than I do."

"Keep it," Lelouch said, lifting his left hand for her to see. "I've found a new one."

"Victory! Victory to Driftmark!"

"Pull back to the ship! Let Myr burn!" he heard Donnall shout.

Cici shot him a worried look.

"It won't kill me," Lelouch said.

"It won't kill you yet," Cici said. "It would be my luck to have you die of infection after I've had to save you."

"Not that I'm not grateful, but I thought you were on the ship with Magister Rasporos," Lelouch asked.

"I escaped," she said.

"You escaped? Just like that?"

Cici shrugged, putting his arm around her shoulder as they staggered onto the Season of Tides. "I'm good at hiding when I want to."

The ship set said as the world burned down all around it. Lelouch sank to his knees, leaning against the rail and closed his eyes.

Myr was fire and blood.

-ZeroRequiem-

Lelouch woke with a start.

"Easy there," Donnall said. "How'd you almost die to a man with a knife when you had a spear and a shield?"

"He fought better I guess," Lelouch said.

Donnall snorted. "No shit. I'm dragging your ass to the courtyard every morning after this."

Lelouch raised his left hand, now bandaged and absent a knife. "It might have to wait."

"He's right handed," Cici said. "He doesn't need two hands to fight with a sword."

"See, the slave woman knows better than you," Donnall said.

"Her name is Cici," Lelouch said.

"Well Cici, you have my profound thanks for saving this idiot last night," Donnall said.

"Thanks are not necessary," Cici said, checking on his hand before nodding to herself. "No signs of infection."

"She's a healer? I thought she was just a translator," Donnall said.

"I'm a woman of many talents," she said.

Lelouch struggled to sit up and Cici sighed as she helped him. "Do we have a cyvasse board lying around?" Lelouch asked.

Donnall frowned. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I need to think," Lelouch said. "Playing helps me think."

"I'll go look for one," Cici said, standing up. She returned minutes later with a set, placing it on the side table. "Magister Rasporos is not here yet. I can play with you? I have seen you play enough times to grasp the basic tenets."

Lelouch nodded. "I will play—"

"Black," Cici said with a smile. It was difficult setting up the board with only a hand, but Cici was patient with him. "You have the right to choose."

"You..." Lelouch paused. "I will play first."

Cici tilted her head. "You do not play first when you can choose. Not in the many games I've witnessed, not ever really."

"I think it time to reconsider my strategy," Lelouch said. The game went swiftly, though Cici played better than he expected. She put up a valiant, if doomed, defense of her king that crumbled from the onslaught of his vicious blitz.

There was a knock on the door. The magisters three, Zoutos, Glossos and Rasporos, entered behind Ser Bryne. "You have guests, my lord," Ser Bryne said.

"We have won a victory," Magister Glossos said.

"Victory?" Lelouch repeated, his mouth tasting of ash. "Is that what we're calling this? Another victory like this and we will be ruined."

"We have succeeded beyond our expectations," Glossos said. "Even with the ships that were blown off course last night, we still have ninety-four Myrish ships with us."

"How many of them are fit for war?" Lelouch asked.

"Less than half," Zoutos said. "It is difficult to get a proper count while we are at sea."

"Why do you ask?" Rasporos asked.

"Because this is not over," Lelouch said.

Glossos raised a brow. "Has there not been enough bloodshed?"

"A mercenary has made himself king of your Free City, and you want to do nothing?" Lelouch asked.

"My lord, if your skill at cyvasse is any indication, you are a great commander, but war is not the only means available to us," Glossos said. "We can negotiate."

"I am a better commander than you will ever be, Glossos. Do you know why?" Lelouch asked. "That you think cyvasse comes close to real war is your true undoing."

Glossos flushed. "I will return to my ship. I will not commit myself to this folly."

Not that the magister could truly untangle his men or had enough control on any of ships to consider leaving the ragtag fleet. "Do you two feel the same as well?" Lelouch asked.

Rasporos smiled sadly. "I did warn you, didn't I? Myr is a sinking ship. I will join you to Driftmark to re-establish myself, but I am afraid I do not see any profit to be had from this venture. Come, Cici."

Cici did not move. "There are no slaves in the Sunset Kingdoms."

Rasporos frowned. "We are not in the Sunset Kingdoms."

"You are on the ship of one," Donnall said. "Our laws hold here."

Rasporos turned to Lelouch. "Will you let this stand?"

"I offered a fine sum for her in Myr," Lelouch said, closing his eyes. "You should have taken that deal. It will not go any better for you when we land in Driftmark. Your slaves, by the rightful laws of gods and men, will be freed." These were laws few lords enforced, but Rasporos was magister no more, and Myr belonged to the enemy. He had the means, and they had given him a motive.

"This is outrageous!" he said. "I will take my ships and leave now then!"

"You are welcome to," Lelouch said. "There is the matter of finding a ship that wholly belongs to you though."

"What do you mean?" Rasporos asked.

"Our departure was a rushed affair. Slaves from different magisters boarded the same ships. It is Velaryon men that captain many of these ships and protect them. Those people obey me, not you, and so they will continue towards Driftmark as we had agreed," Lelouch said.

Rasporos' eyes turned to fury. "You! You tricked me!"

"I offered terms and you agreed," Lelouch said. "That you did not grasp their implications is on your head, not mine. You are, of course, free to try and sort things out. Do you have an opinion on this, Ser Bryne?"

"The winds were harsh last night. We are three days off from Tarth, and are in desperate need of supplies," Bryne said. "We will be at Driftmark in a sennight."

"So let us consider your options," Lelouch said. "You have three days if you wish to leave. Most likely, you will do so with only a fraction of what you own, and have the rest taken by pirates as you lack fighting men. In the unlikely event you evade capture, you have few experienced captains who might guide you to a safe port so the threat of starving to death at sea is very real for you. I could seize every earthly thing you possessed right now, and no one would bat an eye, but I have no wish to be a tyrant when other paths are yet open to us."

"You are not Lord of Tarth," Zoutos said.

"No, but my uncle is."

"This is extortion."

"This," Lelouch said, "is a negotiation."

Zoutos smirked. "What is it you want then?"

"Commitment," Lelouch said. "I will not suffer letting Lashare rule Myr. I will not suffer seeing my uncle a captive of a lowlife thug, and wars are expensive."

"It all comes back to coin in the end," Zoutos said. "It would be cheaper to offer a ransom."

Lelouch spoke in a low voice. "Ransom? Ransom? My uncle was taken prisoner by an upjumped sellsword. Shall I let every bandit and thief with a knife brandish it against my family's throat?"

"You seem to be forgetting," Rasporos said, "that we are not as rich as we once were. Even if you seized everything on our ships, it would not be enough."

"You have a reputation, an image," Lelouch said. "That is a key that opens doors otherwise unavailable to me."

"The Iron Bank," Rasporos said. "You want us to be guarantors?"

Lelouch nodded.

"You ask a great deal from us without offering anything in return," Zoutos said. "All risk is undertaken by the possibility of reward."

"Your prize," Lelouch said, "will be Myr itself. You will be kings of a Free City should we win."

The two shared a look. "Then what would be your take from this venture?"

"Revenge," he snarled. "Do this, and you will keep all you possess."

-ZeroRequiem-

Nine Eyes had his wrists and ankles bound tightly with rope. Even still, Donnall insisted on being in the room when he was interrogated. One did not become a captain of sellswords without a heavy dose of vicious cruelty and a propensity for violence.

"I thought you'd be taller," Nine Eyes said as he assessed Lelouch. "To be beaten by a boy and a merchant… at least tell me you've killed a man before?"

"I've ordered many men killed," Zoutos said. "But to bloody my own hands? Reprehensible."

Nine Eyes rolled his two eyes. "Typical merchants. What about you?"

"I have killed before," Lelouch said.

"Ever fucked a girl before?"

"I don't see how this is relevant," Lelouch said.

He sighed. "That's a no then."

Donnall frowned, and slapped him across the face with his gauntlet.

Nine Eyes spat out blood, and grinned. "I'm a dead man, aren't I?"

"Lashare's rise to power, the Golden Company's rapid advance through the Disputed Lands, the sack of Tyrosh… it has been altogether too convenient," Lelouch mused, ignoring him. "Ever since the fall of Valyria, the balance of power between the Free Cities has been kept. If ever a power grew overmighty, its neighbors would be quick to band together and pull it back down."

Nine Eyes smile became all teeth. "Fascinating. Do go on."

Donnall showed him the back of his palm, but Lelouch raised a hand to stop him. "Four times the Blackfyre have taken arms to seize the Iron Throne. Twice they have invaded Westeros from across the narrow sea. Fewer and fewer lords have flocked to the Blackfyre cause with every failed attempt, and I say this as the great grandson of a Blackfyre rebel. Maelys Blackfyre must know that if he is to seize kingship, he can no longer rely on the allies of his predecessors to see it done."

"Where are you going with this?" Zoutos asked.

"Patience, magister. I am gathering my thoughts," Lelouch said. "Tyrosh has a new Archon, does it not?"

"Alequo Adarys, the Silvertongue," Zoutos said. "A shrewd dealer and as vicious as any inhabitant of Serpentholm. His fire brigade will assemble at the first cry of alarm, but do nothing while Adarys offers to buy the burning building at a miserable price."

"Tyrosh has many, many ships as well and is closest to the Stepstones, which Maelys will need control over if he is to succeed in crossing with a large host," Lelouch said. "He would be a fool not to tip the scales in his favor, but to take Tyrosh so quickly he must have had help from the inside."

"The Spotted Tom and that Fossoway knight were charged with the defense of Tyrosh," Zoutos said.

Lelouch frowned. "A kinslayer and an oathbreaker, both of them Westerosi exiles. Not men known for their loyalty, and if Maelys could offer them something to come to his side…"

"Maelys could make them lords of their family holdings?" Ser Bryne said.

"Or even make them Lords Paramount of the Westerlands and the Reach. Such a prize would tempt any man to break their word," Lelouch said, and turned towards Nine Eyes. "Then we have you and your Jolly Fellows."

"Finest traitors you'll ever meet," Nine Eyes said cheerily.

"You were in the employ of Lys alongside Maelys and you were charged with laying siege to Myr," Zoutos said.

"Only it was a ruse and you were working with Lashare to seize the city," Lelouch said. "Had the Golden Company marched on Myr, it would have been an easy victory. Myr would have thrown open its gates and sued for peace."

"We would have paid a generous sum to avoid sack," Zoutos confirmed.

"Instead, Maelys marched many miles towards Tyrosh," Lelouch said. "That means he trusted you not to betray him."

"Me? Betray him? I would never," Nine Eyes said. "Is there any man more honorable than one who kills for coin?"

Lelouch shook his head. "Actions speak true. At the end of the day, neither you nor Lashare marched on the Disputed Lands and Maelys' exposed flank, when it could have easily been done. Maelys knew of your plans, if he did not outright approve of them."

"Maybe the First Magister of Lys got greedy, ordering him to march on Tyrosh," Nine Eyes said.

Zoutos narrowed his eyes. "A great stroke of luck if this is all coincidence."

"It worked didn't it? We have both cities now."

"Greed has ever been the downfall of men," Lelouch said. "And yet, the Golden Company did not renew its contract with Lys."

"Maelys has gathered an unlikely band of three to his banner. Pirate lords and exiled princes flock to him and call themselves his allies."

"You were wrong, Uncle," Lelouch said sadly. "It was not just a band of three."

"It was a band of nine," Nine Eyes said.

"Nine… Maelys would need ships to cross. Among the pirates, Samarro Saan and the Old Mother have the largest fleets," Lelouch said. "Nearly large enough to rival a Free City on their own, or so my uncle said."

"In numbers, though in a pitched fight at sea they'd break," Nine Eyes said. "As for the last, can you figure it out?"

"Xhobar Qhoqua, the Ebon Prince," Lelouch said. "He's famed to have smuggled goldenheart bows from his homeland, a thousand pieces in total."

"Very clever," Nine Eyes said, tilting his head. "But what is it we want? Men must fight for something."

"Coin, of course," Donnall said.

"No, coin could be had without allying like this. A band of cutthroats herded together would take time and effort and an offer of great prizes," Lelouch said. "Maelys wants to be king. Spotted Tom and the Bad Apple, we presume, were offered Lord Paramountancy under him. The Silvertongue is now sole ruler of a Free City, and all the lands that pay tribute to it, and Liomond Lashare can claim likewise with Myr."

"Xhobar Qhoqua is an exiled prince of the Summer Isles," Zoutos said, "and the Saan Family is of the old stock of Lys."

"The Old Mother is a pirate, and the Stepstones has been their domain for decades," Lelouch said. "That leaves you, Nine Eyes."

He laughed. "I wanted Pentos."

"You have no claim to it," Donnall said.

"I have an army of killers and acquaintances with armies of killers," Nine Eyes said. "That's my claim for you."

"Had an army," Lelouch said. "You have nothing now, not even your life."

"I suppose you're right," Nine Eyes said.

"You seem remarkably calm for a man facing death," Lelouch said.

Nine Eyes shrugged. "I've been facing death for years. It comes with the line of work I do. I gambled with this Band of Nine business, and I lost. I own up to that." Nine Eyes had a steely glint in his eyes. "That fucker Lashare sold me out, didn't he? I saw bits of that fighting in Myr and there's no way his men could have fought like that with all the drinking and whoring that went on. So they knew what you were up to, and I wasn't told, and here we are."

"Lashare knew," Lelouch said.

"So what do you want from me? I assume there's a reason you haven't cut my throat."

"I need a witness," Lelouch said. "The king must hear of this. Testimony from a conspirator would make it easier to convince them." And I will need more than Driftmark ships and Myrish coin to see my uncle saved and Lashare toppled, especially with allies as formidable as the Golden Company.

"I want a quick death," Nine Eyes said. "None of this hanging or torture. A beheading, quick and clean and relatively pain free."

"You're making this rather easy for me," Lelouch said.

"It's about making it easy for me," Nine Eyes said. "I was told I'd get to carve out a kingdom for myself when I signed up. Clearly that's not happening anymore, so why the bleedin' hell should I care if those other cunts get theirs, yeah? I sign a written confession, and you behead me today?"

Lelouch frowned. "Your testimony would be better if you lived to tell it."

Nine Eyes snorted. "I'm not an idiot. I go to King's Landing and my life won't be in your hands anymore."

"We could just keep him alive," Donnall said.

"You do that," Nine Eyes said, "and I'll deny everything."

A denial would damn my cause. "A written confession then, marked by your signet ring," Lelouch said, standing up to leave.

"So you take orders from Maelys then?" Donnall asked behind him.

"What?" Nine Eyes said. "Fuck no. That ugly bastard can go bugger himself. It's really more not getting in each other's way than an alliance. I helped out Lashare in Myr because he'd offered to help me take Pentos afterwards. He had this whole plan about hiding fifteen hundred men with my Jolly Fellows to pretend he'd been whipped in a fight, then we put the place to 'siege', if you can call it that. I'm surprised any of you believed it really."

-ZeroRequiem-

Ten thousand souls arrived on Tarth, give or take a hundred. It was fortuitous this winter had a light touch, or half would have succumbed to hunger and the chills. Uncle Stephas charged the magisters quite the sum, fully aware that they were desperate, and had called his banners to be safe. The time of the Sea Snake was not so long ago, when Myrish refugees fleeing crisis turned pirate and occupied the island.

The Targaryens had dragons back then to burn them out, root and stem.

"That is quite the adventure you've had," Uncle Stephas said. "Grim tidings, this business with Myr."

"It will be war, Uncle," Lelouch said. "The Iron Throne cannot afford to ignore the threat Blackfyre poses with an army at his back and allies in control of two Free Cities. If the Golden Company are successful in taking the Stepstones-"

"They'd be a stone's throw away from Tarth," Uncle Stephas said.

"It would be the next logical step of an invasion from Essos. There is still a chance to seize the initiative, and mayhaps prevent the horrors of war from coming to your island," Lelouch said.

Uncle Stephas listened, and nodded. "A bold plan."

"But you have your doubts," Lelouch said.

"You know how many ships I can call on," Uncle Stephas said. "Combined with Driftmark's fleet, it would still not be enough to oppose two hundred corsair vessels and countless others from Tyrosh."

"We will have the Myrish ships as well," Lelouch said.

"Then there's the problem of manning these ships," Uncle Stephas said. "Tarth can feed a great many people, but we cannot summon armies from thin air. These Myrmen you have are craftsmen and slaves, not warriors."

"We might call on Lord Wendwater to aid us," Lelouch said. "Though they might not have been on the best of terms, Uncle Adamm was still his good-brother."

"And can your own men be relied upon?" Uncle Stephas said. "Many chose poorly on Myr."

"Would you like to watch it handled? Perhaps then you might have a measure of faith in me," Lelouch said.

He called for his men to be assembled in the courtyard. The loyalists standing tall, heads held high; his uncle's men with slumped shoulders and downcast eyes. Lelouch called the knights and lords that proved themselves to stand before him, one by one. He praised their valor, their skill at arms, and their men.

Necessary, but not sufficient.

Next, he called Hughes. "I heard you lost a hand in the fighting, Hughes," Lelouch said.

Hughes nodded, face a sullen visage. "It is as you say, my lord."

"Ser Bryne says you fought bravely," Lelouch said, "for me. You ought to hold your head high."

"I have lost my fighting hand," Hughes said bitterly. "What a great knight I'll make now."

"You are a good man, Hughes, and I have precious few of those I can call on. On my word, you will be a knight."

"But I cannot fight," he said.

"There are ways to wage war besides picking up a spear," Lelouch said, placing a hand on each of shoulder. "A man like you will always have a place at my table and hearth. Kneel."

"My lord?"

"Kneel, Hughes of Hull, Hughes Truespear," Lelouch said, and leaned in to whisper. "I did tell you, didn't I? The first proper fight we got into?" He stepped aside. "Ser Bryne, if you will?"

The second son of Lord Bryne nodded, drawing his sword and resting it on Hughes' shoulder. "Hughes Truespear, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?"

Hughes shook. "I do, ser."

Ser Spend-all touched his left shoulder. "Then rise a knight Ser Hughes Truespear. Serve your lord well."

"The old, the true!" Ser Tallfield shouted.

"The brave!" replied the men-at-arms, banging their shields and stomping their feet.

When they quieted down, Lelouch moved to Bluebeard. "You were my uncle's captain, were you not?"

"I was, my lord."

"Do you know where he was taken?"

"I regret to say I do not know. They took him hours before you came for us," Bluebeard said.

Lelouch nodded. "Will you serve as my captain as you served my uncle?"

The surprise was visible in Bluebeard's face. "I am a Tyroshi sellsail-"

"My uncle trusted you, and relied on your skills despite your origins," Lelouch said. "You followed him into a fight he could not win, and fought with us again after having lost once. You made no oaths of service to my family, only to my uncle. Swear to me now that you will serve the Velaryons of Driftmark loyally, and you will keep your captaincy. Serve me well, and I will make you a master of many ships."

"I stand ready to receive your orders," Bluebeard said.

Lelouch nodded. "I have consulted with Lord Tarth on this matter. That my uncle remains captive will not stand. Ravens have flown this morning, calling on our allies to stand with us."

"What would you have us do?" Lord Wells asked.

"The fleet will sail for Driftmark with all haste. My lord uncle of Tarth has provided us generous lodgings, but we would be poor guests to leave ten thousand mouths for him to feed. Lord Wells and Ser Hughes will take charge of raising our banners in Driftmark with half the fleet," Lelouch said. "Ser Bryne and Tallfield will take the other half to Amblesea and await the bannermen of Lord Wendwater. We will meet again in Tarth."

"And after?"

Lelouch's grin was a brandished knife. "We will wreak bloody vengeance on our enemies."

He turned his attention to his disloyal lords. Had Uncle succeeded, it would have been a different story. They might have claimed to be doing what was best for Driftmark. Success could excuse many things. But they had not.

"As for the rest of you, I suppose you ought to go back to your homes," Lelouch said.

The other knights winced. "My lord, we are yours—" Orin Swyftfoot began.

"Are you now?" Lelouch asked. "I did not see you by my side on the shield wall, when we fought off a hundred men at the ports, Ser Swyftfoot." That the prisoner lords had been boarded onto one of the first ships on purpose went unmentioned.

"You will need us in the battles to come," Goodchair said.

And he would. "How is it the saying goes? 'Better to be on hand with ten men than absent with ten thousand'," Lelouch said. "Men who cannot obey orders are worth little in war." His eyes swept through the Chaseman levies. Ser Chaseman had died rather than be taken prisoner. Still, Lord Chaseman would hear of what had transpired.

"If you still think of yourselves Velaryon bannermen," Lelouch continued, "call your levies and prepare for war. If you do not, stay in your holdfasts. I care not either way."

Their honor would demand they answer the call, and commit more men than they otherwise would have to wipe the slate. It was no choice at all in truth.

"And where will you go, my lord?" Lord Wells asked.

"To King's Landing," Lelouch said. "King Aegon and my father must hear of this."

Uncle Stephas frowned. "King Aegon is dead. King Jaehaerys sits on the Iron Throne now."

Lelouch turned to him. "What? His Grace had many years of life left, and when I left he was headed to Summerhall."

"Summerhall burned," Uncle Stephas said.

"No," Lelouch whispered, his voice breaking. "Alarra..."

"Your sister lives," Uncle Stephas said, "but the maesters dare not say for how long. I thought you knew."