LUKE


The salt was bitter on Luke's lips.

He tightened his grip on the cold railing of Grandfather's flagship, the chill seeping into his flesh. The Sea Snake rose and fell in the great autumn waves, swells which always made Joff's stomach turn but did not bother Luke. Grandfather had taken him on his ships too many times when he was a boy to be afraid of the sea. "A true Velaryon," Grandfather had always boasted,"Worthy of inheriting my empire."

The deck creaked under Luke's feet, and he bit his lip. He wished there was nothing beneath him, and he was flying to Dragonstone like Jace and Joff.

He looked up at the sky, beyond the dozen green sails which bore the Velaryon seahorse and the men shouting from the crow's nest, and wondered if his brothers were soaring in the clouds. It was most like that they were, hunting down any remnants of Prince Daemon's treason.

"I rode Syrax once," Luke complained to Grandfather after Jace left,"I can ride her again." Luke was certain that it had been fear of the golden dragon which had moved the three betrayers to join them, not empty promises which could blow away like the wind. Mayhaps if he had the larger dragon at Storm's End, Aemond would not have dared threaten him. And I would not have lost half the world.

Yet Syrax remained tethered in the yard of High Tide, Grandfather having his men unsaddle her and gorge her on freshly slaughtered cattle and sheep. Even when he received Jace's missive from Dragonstone that the isle had surrendered and Prince Daemon in chains, Grandfather and Jace were of one mind to forbid Luke from flying to Dragonstone. "You shall join me on the Sea Snake," Grandfather said,"It is a longer journey, but safer."

Luke listened to Grandfather, berating himself for wishing to ride Syrax again. Remember that she is Mother's dragon, he told himself, and mine is Arrax, who is closer to me even more than my brothers. He told himself a thousand times that it was not the size of the dragon that made him lose an eye. Yet the whisper still rose in him that he could have faced Aemond like a brave knight should Luke have only ridden a larger dragon.

He had only seen Grandfather thrice since High Tide when the captain appeared in the mess hall to feast with the crew. The rest of the time, Grandfather disappeared into the maze-like cabins of the ship to plan the course of his fleet. Grandfather had not entrusted any command to Luke, not even that of the poop deck. He had been given freedom of the ship, but there were always two burly Velaryon guards behind him to make certain that he did not fall into the sea. Not that it would have mattered. There were no records of dragons drowning. The sails of the smaller ships blocked the hypnotizing horizon where the blue of the sky blended with the blue of the sea. He could only stare down at the ship's massive broadside where the sea churned far away, as a hundred oars lay stiff and unmoving. Luke grew numb to the howling of the wind through the sails.

Mortin, the taller of the two guards with a red beard, timely advised Luke to go belowdecks, but Luke did so only during his meals and a short sleep during the night. He did not want to go through the bustling deck more times than he needed to. Luke would rather wait in the open air than in the cramped dampness of his small cabin. The day between Driftmark and Dragonstone felt like a century, and he laughed as his eyes found the ashen shore of Dragonstone amongst the shouts of the crew.

It was not long before Luke was approached by Master Horac Blunt, a thickset man with big black eyes who was the oarmaster of the Sea Snake. With him were two sailors called Peak and Jyck. Luke knew Peak by his jutting chin and Jyck by the long golden hair he tucked behind his ears. Grandfather had made Luke know every one of the crew, and he could say the name of any of the hundred faces on the deck at a glance.

Blunt and his two sailors knelt before Luke, their knees making thick clonks on the wooden floor.

"Arise, Master Blunt," Luke said,"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Only the oarmaster rose,"Captain Corlys asks that my prince go belowdecks, and change into your court clothes."

Luke looked down on the brown wool coat Grandfather had given him, which was stained with brine. He had arrived at High Tide in only a thin flaxen shirt and trousers with naught on his feet, but Syrax had warmed him. Even in a woolen coat, he was cold on the deck of the Sea Snake.

"I hope you have something warmer," Luke said,"Who is holding court, Jace or Mother?"

"The Prince of Dragonstone is holding judgment," Master Blunt said.

"Very well," Luke said,"Jace shall have his bright court." A spray of water splashed on his coat, and the cold made him realize what he had to do. He had been holding onto hope of seeing Arrax in the Dragonmont before going into the castle. Mayhaps a ride on my own dragon would banish me of that accursed wish. But it seemed that it would not be, and Luke followed the oarmaster.

Jace held court in the Great Hall of the Stone Drum, a great cavern carved of black stone which had been melted into shape by the dragons of Luke's fathers. The hall had been carved in the likeness of a dragon on its belly, the great red doors leading into the hall that dragon's gaping maw. The red doors were wide open with five Targaryen guardsmen holding each, and a thousand torches lit the cavern inside the dragon.

"Hail, Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon," the herald declared as horns blazed, and the knights and lords assembled in the hall gave a cheer, all the echoes booming in the Stone Drum like the battlecry of Lord Orys Baratheon's army.

"Hail, Lord Corlys of House Velaryon," the herald declared again,"Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark, Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet, Master of Ships, and Captain of the Sea Snake." The horns blew and the men cheered again.

It was then when Luke looked to the end of the hall beneath a great Targaryen banner draped across the wall. There, on a pedestal, sat Mother on a throne of black stone with a golden crown on her head, though she was too far away for Luke to read her face. His heart began to beat faster. He wished that he could run to her, but knew it was not proper. Luke looked instead at who surrounded Mother.

At her sides were three Kingsguard and a tall knight wearing the red-and-black armour of House Targaryen's guardsmen. All their hands were set on their hilts. Also standing beside the queen was Gerardys and two of his stewards, the burly maester suffering now a stoop. The last man at the queen's side was the thin Septon of Dragonstone, Grimwald, whose brown cloak hung loose about his shoulders.

At the first step down from the throne stood Jace and Joff. Jace wore the silver crown of the Prince of Dragonstone on his brow, and his eyes met Luke's for an instant across the wide hall. Luke broke the gaze, and saw that Joff's mouth seemed to have risen into a smile, but Luke could not be sure from a distance.

Luke was confused to see that Aegon and Viserys were standing on the second step down from the throne, clad in black doublets. Mayhaps they had naught to do with their father's treason. But Luke worried when he saw that Rhaena was not there. The two boys seemed to be trying to shrink behind the knights who stood on the third step.

The third step was last step of the pedestal, and upon it stood nine of Rhaenyra's thirteen sworn swords. Luke supposed that the other four had joined in Prince Daemon's treason. The seven golden stars carved into the breastplate of Ser Emeric Sunglass was not there, nor was the surcoat of a red tower which always coated Ser Adrian Redfort. Luke also did not see the four-coloured cloak that covered Ser Loreth Lansdale, and the familiar hawk-shaped helm of Ser Harmon of the Reeds.

The other nine could also have been part of the treason, Luke thought, turning only when the dragons blew the way of the Prince of Dragonstone. But if they were, Jace would not allow them here. Perhaps they only feared being devoured by Caraxes. Luke did not remember seeing Caraxes in Daenys's Yard, only Stormcloud and Moondancer whose mouths were clamped shut by irons and were bound by thick chains to hardy pillars which even Meleys's dragonfire could not melt.

One of the betrayers also stood with those nine, that tall thin man named Ulf. All ten who stood on the third step drew their swords in a song of steel which greeted Luke and Grandfather, and the herald continued.

"Captain Morton of House Brimstone," the herald declared,"Shield of Spicetown, Vice Admiral of the Royal Fleet, and Captain of the Spicetown Girl."

As the herald announced the captains of the Royal Fleet, Luke walked down the path lining the centre of the Stone Drum by a long purple carpet decorated with sigils, passing knights and ladies who fell into silence as he passed by. Grandfather followed him with five Velaryon guards.

Mother's face began to be clearer when Luke drew closer. His heart began to settle down as he saw Mother's face was not what he had feared. He dreaded that Prince Daemon was starving her, and her cheeks would be thin and haggard. But they were plump and red, her silver hair neat and bright in a hairpin of a jade dragon. Her lips broke into a smile as Luke arrived and her purple eyes brightened, rising from her throne.

"Your Grace," Luke heard Grandfather say and the soft touch as Grandfather bent his knee. However, Luke's eyes were for his mother who was stepping down the pedestal, and he soon found the sworn swords parted and himself buried in his mother's embrace.

"All three of my sons are home," Mother whispered in Luke's ear as she raised him to his feet.

"Aye," was all Luke could manage before tears streamed from his eye down one of his cheeks.

Mother pushed him back after a long moment, her lips scrunching as she studied Luke's face. "I know about your eye," she said.

"Aemond…" Luke began.

"I know you cut it out," Mother said before pulling him into another embrace,"But you are alive, and that is what matters."

Luke bit his lip, and this time his one eye remained open as tears fell out. He wanted to stay with Mother forever, but she broke it off again. Then, Luke remembered his duty. He retreated two steps and knelt,"Your Grace."

Mother's eyes dimmed, and she climbed back to her throne, watching as the captains filed in behind Luke and Grandfather and knelt. "Arise, my lords," Mother's voice came at long last, having returned to the stony one of a queen,"Dragonstone is yours."

Luke rose, and climbed up three steps of the pedestal to stand beside Jace and Joff. Grandfather and his own retinue retreated to their places in the lords closest to the pedestal. The captains of the Royal Fleet assumed their places with a scuffle of scratching cloaks and heavy steps.

Before silence fell upon the hall, Luke turned to Jace: "Where is Rhaena? She was not part of her father's treason, and helped me escape."

"I know," Jace answered,"Mother told me that Rhaena was the one who wrote on Prince Daemon's letter, warning us even before you did. You should feel fortunate that your betrothed did not wish to kill her future husband. She is attending to Baela's bed in Sea Dragon Tower. Flying on Moondancer to surrender Dragonstone is taxing. I would say that is well. The girls are old enough to understand what is happening here, and I wish to spare them the sight."

"And Aegon and Viserys" Luke began to say, but Jace glanced at him sharply. The rest of the words Luke swallowed, are not old enough? Luke caught a fleeting glance from Aegon's deep purple eyes before they darted away, and Luke was certain that Aegon knew.

"When will the trials begin?" Luke asked instead.

"We are still waiting on Grandmother," Jace said,"She had flown here immediately after she received her letter, but found that Dragonstone had already surrendered to us. Grandmother returned to Harrenhal to put the Riverland affairs in order, telling me that she must return before the trials."

It was an hour before Grandmother arrived, Luke hearing the great crash of Meleys in the yard after the sentry reported of red wings on the horizon. The red doors opened as Grandmother marched into the hall in full black armour with her sword slung at her belt. Her white hair was done up behind her in a braid, but loose strands were flying in her face from the wind outside.

"Princess Rhaenys of House Velaryon," the herald declared after she had marched in, her wet boots soaking the carpet with mud. The herald paused, but soon remembered his duty and continued,"Lady of Driftmark and Warden of the Riverlands."

There were no cheers greeting her, the crowd uneasy that she had stepped in before she was announced. Silence fell as she passed, but whispers rose after she left them behind. She walked to the end of the hall and knelt before the pedestal,"Your Grace."

"Arise, Princess Rhaenys," Mother's voice arose from behind Luke, and Grandmother rose. "Dragonstone is yours," Mother said, and Grandmother nodded. Her stern face then broke into a smile as she turned and walked to Grandfather, wrapping him in an embrace and kissing him on the cheek. Then, she left him as she walked up the steps of the pedestal to stand beside Aegon and Viserys on the second step.

Jace moved at last, turning back to the knight in Targaryen plate. "Ser Alfred," Jace commanded,"Let us begin."

The knight drew from his belt a smooth white horn whose mouth was ringed by emeralds and bronze runes. He put it to his lips and blew one long blast, and a dozen horns answered in the hall. Their thunder beat the Stone Drum again and again, even as the red doors lay open to the skies. When the storm at last abated, a host of thirty guards appeared at the red doors led by Hugh wielding his great hammer. The spears of the guards glinted in the hall's firelight as they all surrounded one ragged man fettered at both wrist and ankles. His hair was a tousled mess, a pale white matted with brown specks of dried blood and falling over his forehead to cover the cuts on his face. He wore only a thin white tunic which was stained by crimson lashmarks festering underneath, and slumped limp on the two burly guards who dragged him across the floor, a trail of red in their wake. Luke almost thought it was another man, until the herald yelled in his shrill voice.

"The traitor. Prince Daemon of House Targaryen."

Luke thought that Jace would delay judging the man who had been their father, sentencing some guardsman or serving woman who had followed Prince Daemon. But it seemed that Jace went straight for the head of the snake.

"Did you order that be done to Father?" Joff whispered.

"A traitor must have a traitor's due," Jace answered.

Hugh and the guardsman dragged Prince Daemon to the feet of the pedestal, forcing him to his knees. Yet once they backed away, the prince struggled to his feet, and Luke could see a sneer beneath his matted hair.

"You were not given permission to stand," Jace said.

"Kneel," the sworn swords boomed, and the guards closed in to push Prince Daemon to his knees again, a splatter of blood falling upon the stones before the pedestal. Luke heard a shuffle behind him, and saw one of the stewards hand Gerardys a scroll, who huffed forward and gave it to Jace. When Gerardys drew close, Luke saw that there were black circles under his eyes and his face was stretched, but his cheeks were still red.

Jace unfurled the scroll and read,"Prince Daemon, you stand accused of imprisoning your queen, her chosen representatives, and conspiring to usurp her throne and murder her rightful heirs and loyal bannermen. This amounts to high treason and conspiracy against the realm. Do you deny these charges?"

The prince looked up, his hair falling back to reveal the sneer still upon his face. "Whatever my answer," Prince Daemon laughed,"my end will be the same." His smile died,"I name you craven, my prince, to hide behind this show trial. Kill me, and dare to forever bear the name kinslayer. That is what makes a king."

Jace's face changed no colour, but his lips drooped into a frown. Luke heard a booming step as Hugh stepped forward and punched a mailed fist into Prince Daemon's stomach. "That's for slandering the Prince of Dragonstone."

"There is no need for that, Hugh," Jace said,"Get him up to his knees."

"Hiding behind a brute," Prince Daemon's smile did not fade as he rose to his feet himself, and Jace stopped Hugh from landing another blow. Prince Daemon nodded,"You should do well to hear my advice. Instead of bringing me here to be executed in front of all the eyes of Dragonstone, you should have poisoned me in my cell or had that mutineer Broome cut off my head to give to you as a gift. Or some valiant vigilante in the castle took matters into their own hands. Against the will of the Prince of Dragonstone, of course, who respected the sanctity of the bonds of blood."

"Seven have mercy on our souls," Septon Grimwald said.

A violent flush appeared on Jace's face, but no words came out of his lips. The last time Luke had seen Jace's face red was when he fell off Vermax while trying to ride him for the first time. That time, it had also been under the eyes of Prince Daemon, who taught Jace how to ride a dragon. Silence grew as orange light glimmered on the frozen silver dragon upon Jace's crown.

"Your Grace," it was Grandmother who spoke after a long moment,"Might I have a word?"

"Granted," Jace said, and the relief in his voice was what Luke had not heard in a long time.

"Prince Daemon is accused of high treason," Grandmother said,"but my prince Jacaerys should remember that we are still at war. The usurper in King's Landing rallies armies to steal Her Grace Rhaenyra's rightful crown. Even if Prince Daemon has proven treacherous, his life is still our most valuable asset against the false king. He cannot be trusted to ride a dragon, that is true, but he was the Prince of the City, and still has key friends in King's Landing who would abandon us if Prince Daemon is dead. I trust that my prince Jacaerys knows how important those friends will be soon. It is not to say that we forgive Prince Daemon's treason, only postpone judgment until a more opportune time."

"No, Jace," Luke blurted, and a glance from Grandmother could not silence him,"Let him live, and he will have another chance at treason. Cut off the threat at its roots." He looked back to Mother,"Your Grace, the traitor must be put to death."

"Seven have mercy on your soul, my prince," Septon Grimwald said,"The kinslayer is accursed in the eyes of all the gods."

"It is the Prince of Dragonstone's choice, Luke," Mother answered,"He is the judge."

Jace was silent for a long moment, staring at Prince Daemon whose smile had finally faded.

"What is your judgment, my prince?" Hugh asked.

"Get him back to his cell," Jace said at last,"Bind his wounds and give him food and water. Post ten guards at his door, night and day, and only one guard is to be relieved at a time. Check the cell beforehand for any tunnels, and make certain that the windows are barred and the iron is strong."

Prince Daemon said nothing as the guards pulled him around, his eyes turning back to watch Luke in a strange light. Then, Prince Daemon turned back, and a trail of blood followed him back out the door. When the prisoner departed, a steward who appeared during the trial approached and whispered something in the ear of Ser Glendon Goode, one of the sworn swords. He turned and ascended two steps to Jace, whispering in his ear. Jace nodded, and Ser Glendon stepped back down to the aisle.

"Court is adjourned," Jace turned back and said to Ser Alfred,"The other trials shall occur at a later date." The knight took out his horn again and blew two long blasts. Whispers began to arise from the crowd below as the lords and ladies began to file down the aisles. Luke and the royal house filed between Mother's sworn swords and a host of Targaryen guards. Ser Lorent stood at the forefront of the process, Ser Erryk at the back, their white cloaks sweeping across the black stone joining the men before them. Ser Steffon and Ser Alfred stood on both sides of Mother.

"Why?" Luke asked Jace,"What is it that you need the traitor alive?"

"Wait until we reach Mother's solar," Jace answered without turning his head.

Only the Kingsguard were permitted in Mother's solar for those who were not tied to House Targaryen. But there were few and far of even those who were dragons. Ser Erryk escorted Aegon and Viserys to their chambers, and Grandfather returned to the docks to inspect the Royal Fleet.

Mother sat on a chair of carved cedar with her crown drooping onto her forehead. Princess Rhaenys stood opposite her, pushing her chair away as her hand leaned on the stone table full of yellow parchment and dim chandeliers. Jace stood at the table's head, his eyes looking at the western horizon across Blackwater Bay. Luke and Joff were the only others there aside from the two Kingsguard behind them, and Joff was pacing across the room.

"Tell them, Jace," Joff said,"Tell them what you told me and Grandmother."

Luke looked to Jace, whose eyes returned to the horizon. The fires were dancing in his brown pupils as his finger tapped the hard stone.

"Luke," Jace turned,"I have plans for the others guilty of conspiracy in the dungeons. For the serving women who were charged to poison our meals and bewitch our guards, it is quite unfortunate. They will have the choice between penance in the Faith or the rope. But as to the knights and petty lords held in our dungeons, there will have a chance to prove their loyalty in the coming battle."

"Battle?" Luke echoed.

"King's Landing," Grandmother said.

"We are still recovering from our own squabbles," Mother said.

"Which is what the usurper shall think," Grandmother said,"but our position is stronger than what appears."

"Prince Daemon did us a favour when he summoned dragonriders," Jace said,"I would have done the same once I returned from the north. Ser Glendon told me that our brother Addam returned from the Dragonmont just now, and he has convinced the girl Nettles to join our cause. She rides the last dragon we need. Even with Vhagar, the usurper cannot match us. We should thank Prince Daemon. Because of him, the war will end sooner."