A/N: Maegor's making his lightning strike, and the fate of Dorne hangs in the balance.
Thanks to Wobb Nox, filipinosberman and Ascalon on SB for beta-ing.
Chapter LXVI: Dragon Against Dragon, Part I
37 AC
Fifth Moon
Eyarben (Skyreach)
Maegor Targaryen
Zaekos was forced to swerve to the side as another magic spell narrowly missed him, his rider staring angrily at the fortifications of the castle of Skyreach that pelted spell after spell at his person.
"Trust the damned Black Fox to be a damned pain in the rear…" Maegor muttered, "I swear, I will have his head one way or the other."
Then he felt a rush of wind close to his face, and he cursed loudly in High Valyrian.
"Those Windlances [1] will be the death of us," Maegor cursed, "Brothers and sisters, cover me!"
His siblings obeyed and formed a spherical formation, using bursts of magic and dragonfire to form a protective barrier around Zaekos and Maegor, and together they descended upon the walls of Skyreach, and though heavy anti-air fire wounded several dragons and forced them to break away, their sacrifice was enough for three dragons to make it through and scorch the walls, burning several mages and Windlances and creating an opening across a large stretch of walls.
Yet one of Maegor's brothers fell to his ignominious death, speared clean through his armour by a lance of water.
Maegor grit his teeth, yet continued his barrage, scorching the walls clean of any and all mages and Windlances they could find. When they could see no more, they beat a hasty retreat, allowing them to lick their wounds.
Looking back at the castle, Maegor silently swore to repay the Dornish a thousandfold for this insult.
"Brother, will this be enough?"
Maegor turned to face his brother Maekar who spoke, a hint of uncertainty underneath his arrogance.
Maekar Targaryen, like Maegor, shared his derision for Elaegelle who was a dragonless rider for much of her life, and was a skilled warrior talented with the use of a sword. Compared to his bullish, bulky brother, he was on the slimmer side, compensating for his reduced strength with greater flexibility and agility.
"It has to be enough," Maegor replied, "The infamous Lord High Admiral will be watching the Narrow Sea for any landings, and if we try to fight them conventionally, we will be playing right into their hands. We must not allow the Dornish any moment of reprieve."
"I see," Said Maekar, "Should we not focus on bringing the Stormlands under our control, though? Then at least we have a secure land route for our armies."
"The Grand Duke Rada is not the kind to be patient and idle, and will resort to every dirty trick imaginable to wear us down, I believe we already discussed that," Maegor shook his head, "Furthermore, even with our dragons, the Stormlanders are a very unruly lot, and it will take more than dragon might to bring them to heel."
The plan for Maegor was to gradually weaken Dorne's defences and exhaust their troops with a series of repeated lightning-fast strikes at crucial strongpoints all across Dorne from fortresses to naval forts, and at vital supply bases to reduce the Duchy's logistical capabilities. By forcing them to waste time and energy putting out fire after fire and slowly chipping away at their strength, the Ducal Army and Navy would be weakened enough for an all-out assault by Maegor's forces, once the Stormlands was brought to heel and their forces augmenting the Crownlander Army.
So far, their strategy had borne fruit, but the Duchy was swift to adapt and their defences tightened, and any exposed weaknesses were quickly rectified with startling speed. As a result, it became increasingly difficult for Maegor's forces to conduct their attacks, and as evidenced by this recent battle, they lost a dragon.
"...Though, I have to admit, we can ill-afford to lose another dragon," Maegor reluctantly admitted, "Every single one is precious and takes years to rear and train, and if we lose more before our war with Dorne begins in earnest… Losing Viserys is already terrible enough.
Viserys the Elder, third son of Visenya and Aegon Targaryen, a man who dutifully followed in Maegor's footsteps rather than follow the weak, vacillating King Aenys, a man who did not excel in martial talent or strategy but who helped organise his forces. It was he who brought King's Landing into order after the chaos of Maegor's initial coup, organising the logistics of Maegor's future campaigns.
His loss would be keenly felt, and Maegor would be hard-pressed to maintain his logistical abilities.
"In that case, I do believe we should focus on subduing the Stormlands first, Maegor," Maekar suggested, "Once we bring the region under our control, we can maintain a long-term guerilla campaign [2] against the Red Mountain strongholds and maintain our strategy. We should also be able to mobilise both the Royal and Stormlander navies once we complete the subjugation."
Maegor nodded, "I shall leave organising our logistics to you, Maekar."
"As you command, my King," Maekar smiled.
IIOII
Sixth Moon
Arsalm (Swordport)
Arin Rada
Arin sighed as he read the latest report from his scouts, received just a week after the latest dragon attack on Skyreach that resulted in one Targaryen dragon dead.
The Stormlands have fallen, and House Baratheon and the other Stormlords have been forced into line by Maegor. Their armies and navies have joined the Crownlanders' own. Expect increased attacks along the Red Mountains and Narrow Sea.
Contrary to expectations, Maegor took a far shorter time to subdue and reorganise the Stormlander forces than expected, using a combination of shock-and-awe and subterfuge to completely overwhelm opposition and undermine their unity. Not long after the last opposition was subdued, Maegor conducted a mass execution of all guilty lords, killing them in the most gruesome manner while forcing the other Stormlords to watch, terrifying them to the core. Then he placed their families under house arrest, threatening a worse fate for them should they fail to fight for his cause.
Only House Baratheon was spared stricter conditions, being given the option to opt out if necessary out of respect for Orys, though given House Baratheon's status as Lord Paramount they had no choice, if only to maintain their vassals' respect due to their lack of dragonriders.
And in a culture where preservation of the bloodline was a crucial pillar of noble society, there was no other option.
"I have to give it to my brother; his ruthlessness in suppressing dissent is unparalleled," Elaegelle remarked, "Already our scouts report increased attacks all across our northern coast, and the Stepstones themselves sites of gruelling battles."
"We can't divert any more troops to our northern defences, either," Said Arin, "If we do, chances are that Maekar will lead surprise attacks and increase the damage there."
"If it were not such a repulsive enemy we're fighting, I would almost relish the challenge," Elanzo remarked, "And Maekar is perhaps the closest I have to a rival."
"Is he a problem for you, Elanzo?" Huang Xue asked.
"Is he such a problem for you, Huang Xue?" Asked Elanzo back.
Huang Xue shrugged, "Not truly. But he is a huge problem, next to Maegor."
Elanzo nodded, "He's begun to use some of our own tactics against us as well; his new flamethrower ships stocked with wildfire have wreaked havoc among our own fleets, and we've lost quite a number of flotillas and sailors in recent clashes. Our own defences are holding and our magi are performing admirably, though I would give only three months before we reach our limit."
"And that will be the time when we strike," Said Arin, and all eyes turned to him, "Or rather, that will be the time we counterattack when Maegor conducts his planned offensive."
"I doubt he'll not notice, or his brother strategist Maekar," Elaegelle stated.
"They know, we know, and yet this is our only option," Arin nodded reluctantly, "Until then, we must weather this war of attrition as best as we can."
If anyone believed Dorne incapable of defence after nearly four decades of peace, they had another thing coming.
IIOII
Eighth Moon
An Unnamed Village
By the coming of the eighth moon, attacks were reaching a feverish pitch.
The Dornish gave as good as they got, and under the tactical direction of the Black Fox himself, Dorne's most decorated generals bled the Crownlander-Stormlander forces increasingly dry. Almost every skirmish they fought, the Dornish won. And yet they were no closer to victory than they were almost two months ago.
Not only fortresses and ports, many villages had also been caught in the crossfire, attacked and razed to the ground, their inhabitants put to the sword.
The Dornish armies did the best they could to protect the people, but they could not save everyone.
This attack was just one of countless skirmishes and counterattacks, and Elaegelle Targaryen skirmished in the skies with Maekar Targaryen atop Castenkair, fighting for control of the airspace above a single village in the Red Mountains.
It was not an easy fight; both were seasoned fighters and commanders, and their respective dragon-bonds were as strong as Valyrian Steel. Their dragons were equally massive and nimble, and every strike was as risky as it was daring.
"Dracarys!"
A gout of violet-coloured flames baked the air where Maekar and his dragon were, and Maekar was quick to unleash a gout of bloodfire in retaliation. Their dogfight was hairy, the margin of survival measured by the thickness of a hair strand, both refusing to yield a single inch. Elaegelle's swordsmanship, on the other hand, proved far superior, owing to her greater experience fighting without a dragon compared to Maekar in one of history's greatest ironies.
On the ground, the battle was equally bloody, as the Dornishmen fighting savagely to protect the people who fled the carnage. Many villagers already lay dead, men, women and children alike, and those that remained desperately ran as far as their legs could carry them.
General Vilarr led a determined counterattack, his infantry holding firm like a wall of rock against a wave of fire, gradually pushing forward like a rumbling mountain. Their attack was swift and merciless - their daily routine.
"Hold fast, men! Show them the price of invading Dorne!" Vilarr boomed, "Not one step backwards!"
"Not one step backwards!" His men chorused.
General Jamaqhor led a series of horse archers to harass the retreating Crownlander troops every inch of the way, filling their backs with arrows. Their accuracy was deadly, their pursuit relentless, and it seemed that nothing could stop them.
Nothing except a brilliant gout of dragonfire that ignited the ground before them.
Looking overhead, they found Maekar on dragonback hovering high over them, maintaining his relative position above while fighting off Elaegelle's attacks and Castenkair's dragonfire, until at long last he too withdrew, having bought enough time for his troops to retreat.
"That was a terrible battle," Jamaqhor remarked, "A thousand battles won, yet none feel like a victory."
"You said it," Vilarr agreed.
A scream rang out from a nearby house, and a little boy rushed out towards the Dornish troops with tears in his eyes, distraught with fear and anxiety.
"Help! Please help!" The boy cried, "My ma and sister are inside the house!"
Without waiting, Vilarr rushed towards the scene with Jamaqhor following close behind.
The house was on the verge of falling apart due to fire, the wooden supports rapidly coming apart. They coughed heavily from the smoke, their eyes watering, their lungs on fire, yet they persevered.
Eventually they came across two women pinned down under a heavy wooden beam, one in her mid-thirties, the other a young woman in late adolescence.
"We found them!" Jamaqhor shouted.
"Help me lift this up!" Vilarr shouted.
Jamaqhor and two other soldiers lifted the beam with great difficulty, allowing Vilarr to quickly pull the young woman to safety. Unfortunately, at that moment the roof came crashing down, and it became depressingly clear the mother was beyond saving.
"We have to go!" Jamaqhor exclaimed, pulling Vilarr by the shoulder.
Reluctantly, Vilarr acquiesced and pulled the young girl to safety.
"Mother!" The girl cried.
The mother gave a smile of relief, just moments before the flaming roof collapsed on her, consuming her whole.
The young boy reunited with her sister, the two siblings crying in grief over their lost mother.
Vilarr looked bitterly at the burning house, sighing heavily in disappointment. Jamaqhor said nothing, focusing on comforting and reassuring the two children. Only once they were entrusted to a family friend did Jamaqhor approach Vilarr.
"You holding up okay?" Asked Jamaqhor.
Vilarr said nothing to Jamaqhor, his eyes saying it all underneath his controlled expression of stoicism.
Jamaqhor nodded in understanding, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Castenkair landed on the ground, and Elaegelle dismounted to meet with Vilarr and Jamaqhor.
"Vilarr, Jamaqhor, what's the state of our unit?" Asked Elaegelle.
"Fully half dead, the rest exhausted and wounded," Vilarr reported.
"Our horses are exhausted too; we can't march for another two to three days," Said Jamaqhor.
"State of the village?" Elaegelle asked.
"Most of the villagers have perished, and the remainder unable to support themselves," Said Vilarr, "We'll have to temporarily abandon it."
Elaegelle nodded, "Get the villagers and soldiers treated, and salvage what can be salvaged. We move in three days' time."
"Aye, Milady," Jamaqhor saluted.
"By your leave," Vilarr said.
Carnage and villainy were an unfortunate reality in war, and this was not to be the last village consumed by its voracious fire.
[1] Windlances - Widely considered an improved version of the scorpion, the windlance is a high-powered anti-dragon weapon that fires an arrow of Moonsteel at high speeds, providing enough penetrating power to pierce through dragon scales.
They by no means guarantee full protection from dragons, of course, but Dornish anti-Dragon tactics would compensate by using deception to lure the dragonrider close enough that when the Windlance fired, there would be no time for the dragon to evade a potentially fatal shot.
[2] The term 'guerilla warfare' was first coined by Arin Rada when describing hit-and-run warfare, and over the years he would further refine this style of warfare as an official doctrine of strategy for Dorne, drawing upon his experience fighting against the Reach and the Midnight Scourge in Essos.