Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

Two hundred and forty-four, Dragonstone Rebellion and Going North (2)

"The only person in the main hall who expressed support for Queen Shireen..." Aeron Florent was saying, but when he met his brother Imri's somewhat cruel eyes, he hesitated for a moment and immediately changed his words.

"Most of the people who express support for Shireen Baratheon are country bumpkins from the Dorne Marches. I believe that most of the people in the Stormlands

Houdu has his own judgment. Stannis has almost no business in the Stormlands. We will have many friends. "

Imri's eyes narrowed a bit, and he looked towards the calm sea.

"How many men can we use in the fleet?"

Aeron frowned slightly, "Most of the crew of the Fury were buried in Blackwater Bay. We don't have many available sailors..."

"What a waste!" Imri scolded his brother before he could finish his words.

Aeron paused for a moment, his face still calm, and he continued: "We are on the island. Even if the size of the Dragonstone Fleet doubles again, as long as the princess is in hand, the castle is occupied, and the Qingting Island Fleet attacks from outside, victory will be achieved. Here with us." After saying that, his long and slender ears that were the signature of the Florent family moved slightly, like a real red and gold fox traveling in a dangerous jungle.

Imri's body was obviously uneasy and twitching. He had the courage to scold his brother, but he did not have the courage to take on real big things. Aeron thought to himself as he looked at his brother's anxious and drifting eyes.

Aeron took a step back slightly and bowed respectfully, "I'll go get ready."

Imri nodded hurriedly, his breathing becoming rapid again after hearing his brother's words.

Aaron didn't stop for long, turned around and walked towards the door.

The moment he went out, Aeron glanced at the corner of the bed. The woman sleeping with his brother was curled up there, her head lowered so far that he could only see the woman's silver hair.

Dragonstone is full of such whores, and Imri is addicted to them, he thought.

Aeron pushed open the door and strode away.

In just a moment, the bedroom door was closed again, and the sound of the bed creaking came from inside. Of course, there was also the sound of men and women gasping for love.

…

The raven was circling in the sky, seeming to be enjoying the rare bright sunshine on Dragonstone Island. Judging from the direction it came, it should come from the north.

Davos was fascinated, but his fingertips suddenly contracted with pain. He looked down and saw a drop of blood emerging from the wound on his finger.

It's the damn dragon again! Davos cursed in his mind. Dragonstone was full of black dragon sculptures with teeth and claws. Most of them were made of stone piers, and only a few of the wings were made of iron. I don't know if this was caused by Targaryen's bad taste or the workers who built the castle. An unintentional act.

Davos wiped the blood off his index finger with his thumb. It felt sticky to the touch, and the blood must be stained with sweat.

He looked up at the raven with some envy. Ravens all know how to enjoy the sun. He bathed in the sea breeze and sunshine, and his short-term peace was crushed by the weight in his heart.

"The manpower you require has been arranged, Ser Davos."

Roland Storm, the illegitimate son of Nightsong City, was behind him, his expression showing exhaustion.

"Sir Roland..." Davos turned around and stopped when he saw Roland Storm. He originally wanted to express his gratitude again, but these words have been spoken too often in recent days. , the words were stuck in my throat.

"The knights of Dorne will stay by the Queen's side. You should concentrate on your own affairs, Davos Seaworth." Roland Storm's voice was very soft, but it sounded like it was naturally filled with trust.

Davos nodded lightly. He didn't know who Roland's trust in him came from, but he had to grasp it no matter what.

…

Dragonstone Island was quiet at night with only the sound of waves.

Aeron drew out his dagger. He deliberately put on light armor so he could lurk. He slightly lowered half of his helmet to cover it up and stared straight ahead.

Several black shadows passed by, and the sound of a long sword cutting through a body reached his ears, and a numbing pleasure suddenly rushed into his heart, passing by in a flash.

The door to the inner room opened quietly, and Aeron stood up and ran quickly inside.

Aeron's heart was beating fast. The inner room of the castle was extremely dark, and not even a candle was lit.

The first person fled into the dark inner corridor, making no sound.

The only sound left in the corridor was his own slight breathing. Aeron sensed something was wrong. He stopped and leaned sideways against the stone wall of the corridor. He could hear the waves of the sea by pressing his ears against the wall. The corridor was unusually strange. silence.

It's just quiet in front, why is it so quiet behind him, where are his guards?

Aeron turned his head suddenly, and one of his bodyguards collapsed on the threshold of the inner chamber door, leaning his neck on it, as if he was being put on an execution platform, his throat was violently pressed, and his eyes widened as he looked towards Own.

Roland Storm held the long sword in his hand, and the knight from Nightsong City stepped into the corridor.

The door slowly closed, and a creaking sound filled Aeron's ears.

…

Imrie Florent pulled out of the quilt, "It's all your fault, bitch, for being so terrible in bed and delaying my business..."

He shook his pants and shouted the attendant's name through the door, "Fromm! Get my armor! Hurry!"

The door was pushed open, and Imri raised his head cursingly, "Why are you so slow..."

Davos's face came into view, along with the tip of the steel spear.

"thump!"

Imrie's eyeballs rolled to the bedroom floor, leaving a wet trail, and then stopped.

Blood spattered on the white back of the bed and all over the woman.

Davos took out a towel, "Thank you for your hard work, young lady." He handed the spear to the soldier beside him and turned to leave the bedroom.

...

"Why do we have to live here?" Shireen looked up at Maester Cressen, "It's damp and cold here... The Queen Mother is not here yet."

Maester Cressen's old hands tightly grasped the necklace in front of his neck, and kept looking out the window.

"Old maester! Old hands! Like dead branches with bark!" The jester Patchface jumped up and down, mocking the maester's old age, pointing at his old hands that looked like chicken skeletons.

"Shut up!" The queen's guard looked at Patchface with dissatisfaction, his hand on the long sword.

Patchface shut his mouth wisely and slid behind Shireen.

"Look at your knight master, he is so fierce, and he really has no good reward. I swear I saw him die under a pile of burning fish beams in my dream." Patchface whispered to Shireen, and there were still those most obscene curses in his mouth.

The door creaked open, and the guard drew out his sword. Patchface was so scared that he curled up into a circle and wanted to roll under the bed.

Davos walked in with blood all over his face.

He bowed slightly, "Your Majesty, the traitors have all been brought to justice."

Shireen looked at Cressen uneasily, her face full of helplessness.

Cressen sighed slightly, and he looked up at Davos, "You have just put out the fire nearby, but the storm in the distance is approaching again..." The maester took out the letter from the table, "The fleet of the Qingting Island is very close to Dragonstone Island."

Davos looked at the letter handed over by the maester and shook his head slightly, "You know me, maester, I was born a smuggler and I can't read."

Maester Cressen felt rude, he opened his mouth slightly, "Sorry, sorry, sir, I forgot..."

Davos shook his head kindly, he lowered his head to look at Shireen, smiled and reached out to touch her head, "But at least I listened I understand your description."

Maester Cressen sighed, "I know, Sir Davos, the Qingting Fleet..."

"No," Davos denied, "It was a letter sent by raven this morning, a letter from the north."

A trace of puzzlement appeared on Cressen's face, "Edard Stark?"

Davos nodded gently, "There is no chance of winning in the south, we should go to the north, Queen Shireen..."

Shireen nodded uneasily. Although she trusted Davos in front of her, Patchface's fable about "burning fish beam wood" and "death" made her feel scared.

"Robb Stark is young and hot-tempered, and he doesn't know the order of the seven kingdoms, but Duke Ed knows it. "Davos turned his head and looked out the window. The thick iron window blocked all the sea breeze, but the dampness still seeped in.

Although the waves from the north were turbulent, at least there were islands and reefs to rest.

As for Dragonstone and the Stormlands, except for the warriors who uphold their honor, I am afraid that the people have lost their hearts and are defending the south to the death, just like defending a sand dune that will be swallowed by the waves at any time.