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In the Shadow of the Throne
Pyre of Death
A week later…
"Mother helps us, Gaemon, that girl is with child again!"
"Impossible! Aemon isn't such a fool."
Aemon? Viserys almost craned his neck to hear better but Aegon gave him a warning look. If their parents suspected that they were not fully immersed in their game of wooden men-at-arms, they would shut up and the boys would learn nothing because both Rhaenyra and Gaemon considered them children yet.
"Maester Silvert just told me. In the name of the Seven, Gaemon, what are we going to do?"
"She'll have to get rid of it."
"Don't talk nonsense. She isn't so reasonable. I've known her since she came to us as a child. She's in love with Aemon and will be probably pleased to have as many children by him as she can."
"Even if this girl decides to prove all those talks about the moral of Dornishwomen right, Rhaenyra, I don't think Aegon is so mad to be willing to endanger our future alliances by producing bastards with her as we're arranging his marriage to Hightower's granddaughter. I'll ask him flat and plain whether he doesn't know where moontea can be found."
"No," Rhaenyra spat. "He is my undutiful son and I'll deal with him. You'll stay aside."
Viserys thought he would never forget the storm that raged afterwards. Summoned to his mother's chambers, Aemon confirmed that his Dornish companion was with child once again. It seemed that his willingness to admit it so freely angered Rhaenyra more than anything else.
"And you don't even have the decency to deny it?" she yelled, her rings turning round and round. "We're fighting for a throne here and you don't have a better thing to do than undermine our efforts for the Hightower match?"
"Why shouldn't I bed Lyanor if I love her?" Aemon yelled back. "What about Cole, why there was nothing wrong with you bedding him?"
He caught her hand in the air, inches away from his face, and shook it angrily. "Don't you dare, Lady Mother," he warned. "Don't you dare hit me, ever again!"
He shook her as if she was no bigger than some of Alysse's dolls. Rhaenyra flew at him again.
"Pull yourself together, Mother," Aemon said. "This babe doesn't change anything. I won't give Lyanor up but I'll wed the Hightower girl. All will be fine. No need of hysterics."
"Don't talk to your mother like this," Gaemon said sharply.
Aemon glared at him. "Don't you tell me what to do. You are not my father, or have you forgotten?"
"I knew your father better than you did and I can guarantee that he would have beaten this sheer madness out of you right upon the spot."
By now, their shouting echoed all over Dragonstone. It was a rare thing for all of them to let their anger free reign and so Aegon and Viserys crept toward the door because the scene was frankly terrifying. Their parents and brother finally remembered about their presence and immediately made a common cause against them and started scolding them for eavesdropping.
"Are you still scared?" Aemon asked a few hours later, joining Viserys on one of the rocks so they could stare at the sun dipping in the pearl waters of the sea. Behind him, Alysse stopped to inspect some flowers and insects in the crevices between the rocks.
Viserys looked at him, inculted. "I never was," he lied.
Aemon laughed approvingly. "This is a good thing for a queen's son," he said. "Mother and I, we'll mend things, never fear."
"And you'll wed the Hightower lady?"
"I will."
Viserys was trying to make sense of things. "But will you let Lyanor go?" he asked. "After the wedding?"
His brother shook his head. "Never. She's mine."
He looked at the sunset, narrowing his eyes for sails… or dragon wings.
"Is Aegyl coming home soon?" Viserys asked.
"I hope so, Viserys. I hope so. And there are no ravens either. I am starting to wonder…"
Aemon kept staring for a moment longer. He had come here because it was the highest rock at the coast of Dragonstone but seeing Viserys here reminded him of his own childhood when he had played and… fought with his brothers here. The grief for Baelon, the concern for Aegyl burned in his heart just like they did in his mother's – but he could not let it show. They needed her self-controlled and they needed to show her that they had themselves under control.
"Is Mother still angry?" Viserys asked.
"She is," Aemon replied. "But she's angry with me, not you. I think she's sorry for yelling at you. I know I am." He laughed. "And when your father returns, it'll be just like it was."
Viserys had seen his father flying somewhere to cool off. He hadn't seen his dragon coming back.
"Look, don't take it so hard," Aemon went on. "It was ugly, I know, but it isn't something worth worrying about. We'll patch our differences, win the Hightowers over and prevail. Never doubt that."
Viserys wished he could. But everyone was so anxious. And Baelon wasn't coming back. He could not help but doubt.
Aemon seemed to feel his hesitation because he caught his hands and squeezed them tight. "We will prevail, Viserys," he repeated. "We will."
The boy nodded and his brother released him. "And something else, Viserys," he said. "Never hate. Those you hate won't care and at the end, you'll be the one wasting your time and stamina for hatred instead of besting them and proving them inferior to you."
In the silence, Alysse's voice could be heard clearly as she chattered to the flowers and grass.
"And what about you? " Viserys asked. "Don't you hate Aegon?"
"I'm trying not to," Aemon said simply, his eyes sad as the sun plunged to its death in a marvelous display of crimson and gold. Viserys shuddered.
"Why is it so dark?" he murmured.
Aemon sprang to his feet. "Come on!" he yelled.
"What?" Viserys asked.
Unceremoniously, Aemon hoisted him to his feet and broke into a run, only stopping to puck Alysse up. His hand had closed over Viserys' like a shackle and he was tugging him along, paying no attention to the boy's pleas to go slower. Viserys really couldn't keep up but Aemon didn't care. "We're under attack," he yelled and now Viserys realized why it was so dark: the darkening sky was hidden under many pairs of enormous wings.
"We need to get to the castle," Aemon gasped. "We have to organize our defense! If only your father and Aegyl were here… I have to get to Ikkaras."
In his arms, Alysse whimpered, not because she understood that they were under attack but by the tone of his voice and the cacophony of noises surrounding them all of a sudden: human screams and dragon roar. And crackling of fire.
A column of flame burst in the darkness and Viserys saw Rhaenys on her red dragon flying against a green-and-silver one who was about to breathe fire against one of the towers. The two dragons collided with a clash that shook the earth under their feet and Aemon fell down. Viserys felt hot blood running down his leg.
Aemon scrambled to his feet and grabbed the two children again. "Come on!"
The closer they got to the castle, the lighter it became. The night was falling but the flaming breath of the dragons illuminated everything around and it was as clear as a day.
"Here!" Aemon gasped, pushing the children under the low ceiling of a doorless farm building. "Don't go anywhere inside, in case a fire reaches here. Don't let anyone see you. And in the Seven's name, don't go out unless someone finds you. Do you hear me, Viserys? If you do, I'll beat you black and blue. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Aemon." The boy's eyes were wide with horror. The war had come to them – he could see it, hear it, smell it. The thought of arguing never entered his mind. "I'll take care of her," he added.
"Good," Aemon said. "Try not to be seen," he finished and pressed both of them in a quick hug. Then, he ran for the dragonpit without looking back.
Viserys stared at the battle, holding the hand of the little girl. Now he was responsible for her – she was so young, practically a babe. "Don't fear, Alysse," he said. "Nothing bad will happen."
"Is it the bad queen?" she whimpered.
"No," he said. "You're safe here," he lied because he had already counted the enemy dragons. For now, he had seen four. All they had were three. Sure, they were the best ones but… three.
In front of their terrified eyes, dragons fought dragons in the sky. Sparkles flew in all directions and everything they touched caught fire. Black dragon blood poured like rivers and burned holed through everything it landed upon. Viserys and Alysse stood, clinging to each other horrified. "I want Mama," she squealed.
"So do I," Viserys murmured but he could see that his mother had no plans or chance to come to him. Syrax flew around like a huge bright firefly, breathing fire and swatting with her forelegs. To the boy's horror, a knight tried to sneak up to her behind his shield as she sat on the ground panting, licking at a wound she had sustained in her side that had crushed her scales to powder. Alysse whimpered.
Syrax kept licking at her wounds. Steam rose around her as if she sat in a bathchamber. The knight raised his spear…
… and the dragon breathed. Spear, shield, and man all disappeared in a vortex of flame and screams – both man and dragon's.
Syrax rose again.
Viserys desperately looked around for his father's dragon but of Gaemon, there was no trace.
Ikkaras rose high, locked in desperate struggle with two other dragons. The shrieks deafened Viserys and he did not even realize that he was shrieking, too, when his brother's dragon fell like a stone. Around him, the marble of the courtyard melted.
From this moment on, it was all blood and flashes of weapons. Viserys saw Aegon in the distance: two men were dragging him somewhere, with him fighting and screaming. A new breath of fire revealed the Dornish Captive running through the courtyard, a heavy male hand gripping her shoulder. She kicked and bit, and he doubled up and bellowed with outrage, grasping blindly for her but she escaped him easily.
"Aemon!" she screamed and Viserys saw his brother running for her and deflecting a nearby blade in the process. She stretched her arms, as if she wanted to protect him. He threw his arms open, as if he wanted to hold her, and a knife flashed out of nowhere and sank into her breast. She crumbled down without a word. Aemon screamed, his face more anguished than Viserys had ever seen it.
"Mama!" Alysse wailed and Viserys held her tight. His seven-year-old mind already knew that she had just seen her mother dying – but she didn't know it.
"What do we have here?" someone spoke from the door, and Viserys startled.
A huge man stared at him and grinned. "Silver hair and purple eyes. You're the bitch's youngest brat, aren't you? Come here."
"I won't," Viserys said, pushing Alysse slightly aside and holding her hand tight.
"Oh you will," the man said. His grin showed his broken teeth. "My lord will pay me your weight in silver. Come here."
The children stepped back.
He stepped forward. He was so close that when he leaned over, they would feel his breath.
And then, they both sprang to action. Terror made them stronger and wilder they would have been otherwise: Viserys slammed his head against the man's groins. He had seen many a man fall down incapacitated after being hit there. Alysse dug her little teeth into his leg and bit so hard that she tore flesh and spit it out. Their attacker fell on the ground, cursing; the children held hands and ran past him. Not that he tried to catch them: he was howling, pressing his hands between his legs, forgotten about the world around him.
On the outside, they gasped with horror at the sight of the massacre that greeted them. All around, there were dead bodies and men who walked among the living, knives in hand, to finish them off. Viserys felt something heavy falling over him and then everything was darkness.