Chapter 10: Dragons

"Dragons!" Edavro's voice echoed from afar. "Your Majesty, dragons!"

Aemond turned, worried, upon hearing his squire. The platinum-haired man was wearing his armor, ready for battle, but until that moment, he had been lost in thought, gazing at the mighty comet streaking overhead.

They were in a camp among the rocks of Lys, waiting for nightfall to attack.

Aemond's plan had been to bring a thousand men to the shores of Lys, hiding their camp among the massive rocks protecting the island's rear while the fleet patrolled the perimeter from a distance, ensuring no threatening ships approached.

Edavro had been sent to the city to assess its defenses and the readiness of the mercenaries hired by Lys to fight. However, the young Dothraki had been struck by something else.

"Dragons!"

"Edavro, be quiet!" the dragon ordered, concerned that someone might hear them. He then approached him to find out what he was talking about. "What dragons are you referring to?"

"Daenerys Targaryen has…" Edavro struggled to breathe, putting a hand to his chest to calm himself. He didn't think there was such a distance between the city and the shore. "… Daenerys Targaryen has dragons."

"What?" Aemond looked at him with a touch of amusement. "Don't say nonsense."

"It's not… it's not nonsense, Your Majesty," Edavro insisted with certainty. "There was a merchant who had just arrived from Qarth, and he said she had been there. Khal Drogo died, so most of his khalasar abandoned her, but those who stayed called her the 'Mother of Dragons' because she has three small dragons."

"Three dragons?" Aemond repeated, picturing it but instantly shaking his head to erase such thoughts. "Edavro, dragons have been extinct for over a century. It's impossible for Daenerys Targaryen to have hatched any eggs."

"Your Majesty, it's true," the youth insisted, making Aemond sigh in frustration.

"Fine, we'll discuss this later."

Aemond knew Edavro wouldn't insist on something he wasn't sure of, but it was still impossible for dragons to have returned. If the sorcerers of Asshai hadn't managed it, why would Daenerys?

"Everyone return to your positions. We must wait until dusk," he ordered the others, who had formed a circle around him to listen. Some laughed, while others, the more superstitious ones, worried about the idea of another Targaryen riding a dragon. "Gods."

The platinum-haired man let himself fall onto the sand, closing his eyes for a moment before quickly opening them again at the foul stench of rotting fish. It was one of the disadvantages of being stationed there.

He prayed that Aegon was in Lys; after all, his path would be much easier if he dealt with him. Then he thought about Khal Drogo's death. Gods, it was true, Khal Drogo was dead, which meant there was no Dothraki horde on his heels.

He took a deep breath.

Now he just had to deal with that small-time dragon, and there would be no more foolish claimants to face. But if Daenerys was indeed true, that would be a significant problem.

"Relax, Your Majesty," Herrath said, sitting beside him.

"It's easy for you to say," Aemond said with feigned resentment. "You just have to kill and obey. How enviable."

"I know. Those are certain privileges I have," the blonde nodded, gracefully ignoring the other's comment. "Fortunately, I'm just Herrath Ball. And you, Aemond of House Blackfyre...?"

"… Fourth in line with that name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm… oh, and Captain-General of the Golden Company," he said with indifference, as he was not in the mood. "And if you didn't know, if the Balls hadn't been exiled, you would be Lord of Thorn Ball in the Reach."

"Oh, really?" Herrath chuckled with a smirk. "I'd better be treated with more respect now. I'm a lord."

"As you say, milord," both laughed openly. Those moments before battles were what Aemond cherished the most. The peace before the storm.

By the time dusk arrived, all the men of the company were lined up around the city walls. Aemond had sent 20 soldiers into the city with horns to distract the Windblown while the others sneaked in unnoticed.

Their sole mission was to eliminate every mercenary they encountered so that Aemond could corner the city's magister, Leihnor. For the Golden Company, it was simple; within just an hour, they had scaled the walls and had a thousand men inside. Of course, it was Aemond himself who selected the most stealthy to accompany him, ensuring that no loose end would alert the others.

Within minutes, the massacre began inside one of the brothels, where a mercenary had to slit the throat of a prostitute because she kept screaming in horror with her lover's entrails on top of her. After that incident, the soldiers opted to keep the prostitutes away when they slaughtered their enemies.

Aemond, meanwhile, with the moon high in the night sky, walked down one of the city streets with Blackfyre unsheathed, which had been used two or three times. He, determined to storm the magister's house, followed the peasant woman guiding him. He trusted that his men would clean the city of all enemy mercenaries and then close the gates to prevent anyone from escaping.

His raids weren't usually this dull, but he had no time to waste. He couldn't allow Lys to side with Aegon, especially now that his path to Westeros was slowly opening.

The black of his armor shone in the moonlight, as did his hair, since he had opted not to wear a helmet. His crimson cape moved in sync with his movements, making him appear imposing with each step he took.

Then, after climbing a staircase, he was surprised to see a massive mansion made entirely of quartz before him. He would never understand the leaders' obsession with having grand houses as if that proved who they were.

He threw a few gold coins to the peasant woman in thanks, who ran off immediately.

He walked slowly to the entrance of the house, where two guards were stationed. They were obviously alerted by his presence and didn't hesitate to point their spears at him. However, with just three thrusts, Aemond had brought them down, leaving a pool of blood beneath them.

Finding the main room was challenging; after all, that mansion was ridiculously large and had no servant to guide him. Nevertheless, on the second floor, he found a massive door that clearly led to the quarters.

He entered without worrying about making too much noise, finding a bed with four naked women and an old man among them. Fortunately, they were all asleep, or else they would have noticed the disgusted expression Aemond couldn't hide.

Hesitantly, the platinum-haired man sheathed his sword and began to whistle the melody of "The Rains of Castamere" while walking to a table to serve himself some wine. He had always liked Lys' golden wine.

"What the hell?!" Leihnor, the magister, exclaimed as he finally woke up to the exaggerated noises and saw Aemond sitting on his sofa, cleaning his sword, and singing the infamous Lannister anthem.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Aemond asked with a cynical smile.

"Aemond, what are you doing here?" Leihnor asked nervously, trying to cover himself with the sheets.

"Actually, it's King Aemond," he corrected, tossing aside the piece of cloth he had used to clean his sword. "But since I'm still getting used to it, I'll forgive you," he assured, looking at him peacefully. He loved being in situations like this, where his most cynical side could emerge and devour the world with just his words and that violet gaze.

"Yes, yes, I've heard," Leihnor stammered, slowly approaching the nightstand by the bed, thinking the other couldn't see him. "So, a king, huh?"

"Yes, it's quite a change, I admit," Aemond said, frowning at the other's actions. "Need any help? Do you want this?" He took a short dagger with gemstone inlays from his belt. He had obviously checked the entire room for weapons before starting his show.

"What?" Leihnor said, surprised, but quickly changed the subject. "No, no, of course not. I'm looking for my robe."

"Oh, of course," Aemond stood up to retrieve the robe for the magister, sheathing his sword in the process. "Alright, ladies, I need you to get up and leave, please," he said politely, tapping the bed to wake them.

The prostitutes, initially startled by the pale-haired man's presence, quickly gathered their things and nervously left the room, leaving the two men alone. Then Aemond returned to the sofa calmly, sitting with his legs on a table nearby.

"So, King Aemond, how can I assist you?" the magister asked once he was fully dressed. "I imagine it's urgent, judging by your intrusion at such hours."

"Yes, I apologize for that," Aemond said calmly, taking a sip of his wine. "Well, there are several matters I'd like to discuss, the first being the need for a full withdrawal of all your men from the city. If you don't comply, I'll have to use other means."

Leihnor, realizing the futility of resistance, sighed deeply. "What if I refuse?"

Aemond took a few seconds to think about the magister's question, putting down his glass of wine and looking directly at him. "Then, I'd have to continue with the plan I originally had," he said, his violet eyes darkening with malice. "Which, as you can imagine, involves you not being a part of the world anymore."

"I see," the magister said, slightly shivering. "Then I'll inform them to retreat at once."

"Excellent," Aemond said with a sly smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your business."

The magister nodded in agreement, while Aemond, once again taking a sip of his wine, left the mansion, finding his way back to the camp with ease.

When the magister's men arrived at dawn, they were taken aback by the fact that the Golden Company was already inside the city and had secured it completely. Within hours, Aemond's forces had taken control of Lys without much resistance.

When the day had finally arrived, Aemond found himself victorious. The battle had been easier than expected, and he had managed to subdue the city quickly.

As he surveyed the city from the top of a tower, he couldn't help but feel that the real challenge was just beginning.