The Kraken and the Lion

Chapter 31

by Technomad

Tyrion Lannister

Having the soi-disant "King of the Iron Islands" about the castle had turned Tyrion's mind toward naval matters. In particular, he wondered if they couldn't do better than the ships they had.

We've had dromonds and galleys for centuries, if not millenia. Is there truly no better way to build a ship? he wondered. He sent down to the Master of Ships' office for some ship models, and contemplated them, long and carefully. While he knew that he, himself, was no expert on these things, he did believe that sometimes people got so caught up in doing things the way they had always been done that they were unable to see potential improvements.

Asha came in. She was unusually pensive. Tyrion looked up. "Is something on your mind, my love?"

"Something…something is on my mind, darling. Something I'd rather not discuss, at least not now. Please don't press me." Tyrion knew his wife and knew that she meant what she said about not pressing her. He held his peace. When she was ready she would tell him what was on her mind. He trusted her implicitly, and knew that they had never once lied to each other.

When Asha saw what Tyrion was looking at, her curiosity was roused. "What in the world are you doing with those, my love?"

"I got to thinking about ships. The ships we use now are almost the same as those used in Aegon the Conqueror's day. Is there no room for improvement?"

As Tyrion had known it would, this idea captivated Asha. "You know, you have a point. I never thought about it. I was concentrating on being, first, a captain of my own ship, and then, the best captain of the Black Wind I could be. It never occurred to me till I got here that ships could be improved."

"Well, I've been thinking. For starters, why do we still rely on oarsmen so much? Having to have so many men aboard limits the range of our ships. I think cargo ships these days are mostly sail-propelled, with oars only for emergencies."

Asha thought about it. "Well, my love, warships do face combat, and in a battle situation, having more men aboard can often make the difference. At the same time, you're exactly right. The more men aboard you have, the more strain on supplies, and the oftener you have to put in to shore. Water, in particular, is a problem. Since we can't drink sea water and fresh water gets nasty if kept too long, a ship has no more range than its ability to keep its crew in water."

"So, all things being equal, a smaller crew is an advantage when sailing for a long distance, but a disadvantage in battle," mused Tyrion. He looked narrowly at the ship models. "Is this square thing the only way a sail can be rigged?"

"I don't honestly know, my love. Maybe my nuncle might know? He's sailed nearly everywhere in the Silence, or so he claims. Maybe it's time to pick his brains?" While Tyrion did not trust Euron Greyjoy as far as he could throw him, he had to admit that the 'King of the Iron Isles' knew his seamanship like few others in Westeros, and was less tradition-bound about such things than many ironmen.

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

With her ever-present guard detail in tow, Asha went looking for her dear nuncle. He turned out to be in the Great Hall, sitting across from Queen Cersei, staring into her eyes like a lovesick youth. Asha kept her smile pressed out straight, and put on the impassive face she had learned to use as a misfit girl growing up in Pyke. While she found her nuncle's behavior amusing, she was fully aware that he might not share her amusement. Euron Greyjoy had a sense of humor, of sorts. However, it was not a nice sense of humor, and did not extend to jokes or fun at his expense.

Across the table, Cersei was looking at Euron like he was everything she had ever wanted in a man. They weren't touching and nothing overt was going on, but if Asha was any judge, what was going on in their minds would set any bed on fire. She wondered for a second what it was about ironborn and Lannisters that produced this reaction. Then she remembered that she had not fallen in love with Tyrion at first sight. It had taken some time with Tyrion, learning to know the brilliant mind that hid behind his deformed exterior, before she had fallen for him. Of course, finding out that he did not hold her sex against her had not hurt anything. While she was used to it, she was sometimes very, very tired of having to prove to men, again and again and again, that she was fully their equal in the pursuits they thought of as peculiarly their own.

"Excuse me?" At her words, both Cersei and Euron looked up, looking slightly disoriented. "May I speak with you, nuncle?"

"Of course, dear niece. After introducing me to this vision of loveliness, there is nothing I would not do for you." Politely, Euron rose, bowing to Asha as though he were the most polished courtier in Westeros, instead of a pirate-turned-king who, in Asha's private opinion, belonged in a madhouse or a dungeon instead of in command of a ship or on a throne. He offered Asha his arm, and they walked toward the door.

"Wait!" called Cersei. Startled, Asha turned to see Cersei rising and hurrying after them. "May I come too?"

Asha gave her good-sister a quizzical look. "I don't know, Cersei. We're going to be discussing nautical matters. As far as I know, you've never been on a ship in your life…have you?"

Cersei subsided, deflated for the moment. "No. I haven't. But don't keep him for long!" she commanded, with a touch of her usual imperious manner. Asha raised an eyebrow. While she had thought she had established that she was not someone Cersei could just order about as though she were some servant, it appeared that Cersei's natural arrogance was untamable. Unless my nuncle can do it? she thought speculatively, giving Euron a long, thoughtful look as they headed toward Tyrion's office.

Tyrion Lannister

When Asha came in, with "King" Euron right behind her and Asha's guards keeping a wary eye on him, Tyrion stood up and smiled broadly. He did not trust Euron as far as he could throw him, but he knew that the soi-disant King of the Iron Islands was probably the most knowledgable person around on the subject of ships and ship design, and was not exactly one to be bound by "it's always been done this way."

"Ah, welcome! We were discussing ship design, and my lovely wife thought that you might have some interesting contributions to make. You've traveled farther than anybody else I know of, at least around here, and must have seen quite a few kinds of ships."

Euron's eyes lit up. One thing he did love was reminiscing about his travels. "You're right about that! There are many more kinds of ships than the ones we, or other peoples of Westeros, use. I've seen many different rigs, and kinds of hulls. What, if I may ask, brought this thought on?"

"Well, Sire…"

"Please. Just call me Euron. Or 'Nuncle,' if you prefer. After all, we're family already! And if I can marry your wonderful, lovely sister, we'll be even more closely related than we are!" Euron's blue lips twisted in a wicked grin. "This marriage, if we can bring it off, might make our family tree a little complicated…but what is life without conundrums?"

Privately, Tyrion wondered if Euron knew about Cersei's longstanding, if now ended, liaison with her twin brother, and was subtly twitting him about it. He shrugged and dismissed the question. "Very well, Euron. I got to thinking and wondered if we couldn't do better for warships than our traditional dromonds. They've served us well, but I do think that there are better possibilities out there. If we can only find them, that is."

As he'd figured it would, this question captivated Euron. He looked at the model ships on Tyrion's desk, a thoughtful look on his face. Absently, he rubbed his chin, and Tyrion could hear his whiskers scraping under his hand. "You have a point. At one time, our longships were state-of-the-art, but as poor Balon found out to his great cost, that is no longer the case. I'll never give up my own longship…if for no other reason than that she is easy to beach when I'm landing on a new shore…but for warfare at sea, there are other possibilities." He looked up, and Tyrion was startled at how intense his gaze was. "I remember hearing about your great victory when 'King' Stannis attacked you here." He shook his head. "After that, any admiral that tries that sort of thing deserves to burn for being an idiot!"

"Yes, nuncle. I was there, remember?" Asha put in. "But that was largely due to catapults mounted on the city fortifications and the walls of the Red Keep itself, combined with Tyrion's chain. We can't exactly take those to sea, now can we?"

"True enough," mused Euron. "But there are other engines that do the same sort of thing. Did you ever hear of a ballista?"

Tyrion and Asha exchanged puzzled glances. "What's a 'ballista' when it's at home, nuncle?" asked Asha.

"A ballista, beloved niece, is like a crossbow, only much larger. I've seen some that could shoot bolts that were as thick as a man's arm and twice as long as a man is tall. Those should be mount-able on ships, I would think. Unlike your standard catapult, they don't have arms that swing up, so they wouldn't interfere with the rigging or sails."

Tyrion thought about this, and decided that he liked the idea. Then he thought of something else. "Are there trees that can produce the prods for crossbows of that size anywhere here in Westeros?" he asked. He worried that either there were no such trees, or if they did grow in Westeros, they were in areas still held by forces hostile to the regime at Kings Landing. If so, that would put the kibosh on this scheme before it got started.

Euron barked an amused laugh. "No, these things aren't quite like regular crossbows only larger, Tyrion. They're powered by torsion." At their puzzled looks, he explained: "Basically, the two arms of the 'bow' are stuck into the middle of very tightly-wound, very large things like large ropes, and the tension of those provides the power." Tyrion was still puzzled, and he could see that Asha was, too. "I'll draw you a diagram." Pulling a sheet of paper over and dipping a quill pin in an inkwell, he began sketching what he meant.

Euron was a skilled artist, and Tyrion drew in his breath in sheer wonder at what he was seeing. "Ingenious! I wonder why we never thought of it?"

"Because there was never much of a need. As long as the Targaryens had their dragons, open resistance to them was all but useless, unless one was in Dorne," Asha remarked. "Those without deserts to protect them had to submit or be burned."

"And even after the dragons were gone, nobody thought of improving the siege engines we already have, since nobody from outside threatened us," Tyrion answered. He thought about this new thing for a few minutes. "Euron…how hard would it be to build a few of these, so we can figure out how it should be done? And would you be willing to help us design some new ships to carry them? It occurs to me that in a sea fight, if our ships can stand off and pound the enemy while the enemy's trying to ram us, we can win with very little loss."

Euron considered visibly. "I could probably direct the royal workshops to produce a prototype or two, so we can figure out just how to make them. And, perhaps, we could send abroad, to Braavos or the other Free Cities, to find a qualified siege engineer who could show us how these things are done correctly? Best not to make mistakes that others have figured out how to avoid, after all."

A couple of weeks later, Tyrion, Asha, and Euron were out on the battlements, watching as some workmen set up the prototype ballista for testing. To Tyrion's eyes, it looked rather strange. While it resembled the crossbows with which he was long familiar, the torsion mechanisms were new to him, and he wondered how well they would work.

At Euron's command, the workers began cranking back the cord, and one of them placed a long, thick bolt in the trough. The ballista was raised, pointing out to sea, well away from anything that could come to harm when it was triggered. Asha and Tyrion watched silently. Euron snapped: "Now!" and one of the workmen touched the trigger.

The two arms of the ballista snapped forward, and the bolt soared outward, straight and true. Tyrion's eyes went wide as it flew out, finally landing gracefully in the ocean with hardly a splash. "It works! It works perfectly!" Euron gave them a flashing grin, looking for a moment like a mischievous young boy, albeit one with a patch over one eye and a beard. "This might just revolutionize war at sea!"

"A few of those would make ramming and boarding all but things of the past!" enthused Asha. "Next step, I think, is to see how well it works on a ship."

"There are some ships that are about due to be broken up that we can try it out on," said Tyrion. "You know better than I that a ship has a limited life-expectancy, even when laid up in dry-dock 'in ordinary.' I'm sure we can find one that has a short voyage or two still in her, and we can rig the ballista up on the deck and see what happens when we shoot it." Tyrion winked at Asha, who returned his wink. "There's nothing like trying things out under real-world conditions!"

That evening, Tyrion and Asha found themselves summoned in front of the Hand of the King. Tywin Lannister awaited them in his office, his desk piled high with papers. He shoved his chair back and looked at his son and good-daughter.

"It appears that you have taken an interest in naval matters, Tyrion," he began. "Do you care to tell me how this came to be?"

"Well, Father, having 'King' Euron about the castle, and being married to Asha, makes me more conscious of the naval side of things than I was before. With control of the seas, we can strike anywhere, at least anywhere touched by navigable waters."

"Indeed," Tywin said, musingly. He steepled his fingers, clearly thinking. "You are aware that 'King' Stannis is all but defeated, as are the Northerners? Renly Baratheon is dead…"

"True." Tyrion stepped forward. "But Daenerys Targaryen is out there somewhere, and she could appear at any time. To get to Westeros, she'll have to come by sea. Our ancestors were complacent about invasion by sea, and ended up with the Targaryens ruling us for three centuries. I don't want to repeat their mistakes. And if we've got ships that can do things their ships cannot, we might well be able to defeat them with very little loss. This stupid war has drained us…all of us. Winter is coming, remember?"

"Too true," said Tywin. "And you're exactly right, that we may well need to improve our naval arm if we're to deal with the Targaryen woman once and for all. I'll want to see about hiring some spies to find out what she's doing and where she is."

"Another thing, good-father," Asha spoke up. "While we're doing this, my dear nuncle's energies are devoted to this project, instead of finding ways to end up in my good-sister's bed. You've said that you don't want any more scandals around her."

Tywin gave her an unreadable look. Then, he nodded. "You are right, Asha. As usual. I often bless the day when I first proposed this union between you and my younger son. You're a real asset to this family."

Asha bowed politely. "I try to be, good-father. I have three excellent reasons to want to see the family succeed and prosper."

Tywin nodded. "Very well, please continue with these experiments. I'll want to be notified of your results, and be present at your next tests." He looked back down at his desk and picked up a paper, which meant that the interview was at an end. With that, Asha and Tyrion left.

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

"Well, that went better than it coul have," Tyrion murmured as they walked down the corridor. "My father may be many things, but a fool he generally is not."

` "And you're exactly right. Daenerys Targaryen is still out there, and even if she's a puppet in others' hands, she's a weapon that could be used against us," Asha answered. "A lot of the smallfolk look back with a good deal of nostalgia to the days of the Targaryens. Between the taking of Kings Landing by your father and his allies, and these endless pointless wars after King Robert's death, things haven't been going well for them at all." She quirked a grin. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd bless the Iron Isles' relative poverty and remoteness, but if the Targaryens, or people using them as an excuse, do take the mainland of Westeros, we can evacuate to the Isles, and either fort up there or make our escape overseas."

Just then, they were joined by one of the two people Asha least wanted to see. "Well? Are you done plotting with our father, Tyrion?" sneered Cersei. "I must say, seeing you take such an interest in the workings of common mechanicals is something I would hardly expect of a scion of our noble, ancient House!" She looked her brother up and down, as though he were something she'd stepped in on the street.

"Anything to do with war is the proper concern of a noble, sweet, sweet sister," Tyrion answered, speaking as though he were addressing a half-wit. "And it occurred to me that having better ships than anybody else might prevent things like that attack on our harbor by dear 'King' Stannis. Remember that? That was a close-run thing, and if a few things had gone differently, all our heads would be up on spikes. Yours…mine…Asha's…Joffrey's…Tommen's…"

Cersei went white at the last names, and Asha, all unwillingly, felt a stab of empathy. She knew that she would do anything, anything at all, to preserve her precious babies' lives, and whatever other differences they had, she and Cersei had that much in common. "What we do, we do to keep your children alive, Cersei. Never forget that."

Cersei turned away, clearly shaken. As she left, Asha called after her: "Oh…and Melara Heatherspoon sends her regards!" Cersei stiffened, and then ran as though the hounds of hell were on her track.

"What did that mean, my love? Who or what is 'Melara Heatherspoon?'" asked Tyrion, looking up at his wife curiously.

Asha grinned. "Something I heard. I wanted to see if it was accurate. Judging from her reaction, it was. I'll tell you sometime, but this is not the time." Hand in hand, they went back to their quarters.

END Chapter 31