Chapter 13: Chapter 11 Part 1
108 AC – Corinth, Summer Isles
Edywn POV
Edwyn stood at the periphery of the courtyard, some distance away from the other alchemists and further still than the guards who watched on concernedly, electing to simply and silently watch on this hallowed eve.
It had been some time since the Prince had made another attempt, at least as far as he knew, though this time the Prince seemed optimistic enough at his chances.
He spared a glance at the darkening evening sky that bore only the evening light of that ill-competed with the bright and flickering orange and red which illuminated the deathly silent courtyard, dancing as they were in spellbound rhythm forced onto the flames by the gusts of evening air.
He turned back towards the centre of the courtyard when the flames grew in size, briefly casting enough light that once could forget that it was sunset and not day, and watched on as the alchemist Fororlan walked over with a lit torch that burned a familiar deep shade of blue to Prince Aegon who'd stood by a large slab of rock set upon a well crafted dais.
Prince Aegon began to raise his wide arms moments after Fororlan came to stop beside him and the torches that hung at the edges of the courtyard dimmed in their light whilst the blue flames of the torch burned with greater intensity, so much so that it was getting difficult to gaze directly upon the blue flame that almost seemed as if it was burning brightly white.
Edwyn heard the noise the blue-white flame was making, a sound that sounded awfully like the sound of hung wet cloth shaking violently amidst violent winds though there was a whine to it, a whine like the whines of two links of thick steel that were on the verge of shattering apart as they were pulled apart with great force.
Prince Aegon twisted his arms and the flame flickered and twisted in response, spellbound to the Prince's will almost like how the reeds of marshlands were spellbound to the howls of nature, and Prince Aegon directed the flames towards the slab of stone, the sounds of flames and whining steel and shaking cloth combining into an awful cacophony that pained the ears and further still unsettled his soul.
Time seemed to stretch on endlessly much like how the flames that were constantly pulled from the torch seemed to last endlessly until finally, the light of the torches of the courtyard returned back to normal and the blue-white flames died out, leaving behind a brightly glowing slab of stone that had melted and pooled slightly at the edges giving it a misshapen form that looked to have fused with the dais.
Everyone seemed to hold in their breath as the glow of the stone faded away until all that remained was blackened stone. Finally, the silence was broken with the sounds of calm but loud clinking boots when one of the guards made his way towards Prince Aegon, war hammer in hand.
The Prince took the war hammer from the guard, his face still firmly fixed onto the slab of stone before he got into a stance a minute or two later and Edwyn frowned slightly as he concentrated his ears moments before the Prince swung with all of his might at the slab of stone.
What came next, shook him down to the core, just as sure as the vibrations that must be shaking the Prince. A great loud ringing emanated from the clash, a ringing that bore the same sounds as that of steel swords clashing at the right angles moments before one or both swords broke or shattered.
Excited murmurs escaped from the jaws of the alchemists as the ringing lost its strength though Edwyn kept his eyes on the Prince who'd set the war hammer aside before he stepped closer to the misshapen stone and seemed to be inspecting it, lowly speaking with Fororlan as he touched the place where the war hammer had struck.
Fororlan called one of the alchemist to bring a torch and Edwyn wasn't sure when he started walking towards the Prince but soon enough he was standing next to the Prince with his eyes fixed onto the stone with the light of the torch allowing them to see everything clearly.
The slab of stone was pitch black, darker than the depths of night and it was of the same depth of blackness as that of the Castle of Dragonstone yet…he thought as he peered closer at the place where the war hammer had struck…it was not the same.
The black stone was only a layer akin to the fragile shell of a hardboiled egg, just as the shell would break when struck, pieces of the black stone had equally fallen off, revealing untouched grey white stone that lined the outskirts of Corinth.
"You're getting closer, My Prince." Edwyn muttered half-shocked.
Whatever it was the Prince had changed the last time he'd seen him try, it was certainly closer to the black stones of Dragonstone than anything before.
And judging from the ringing sound, it wasn't merely appearance either.
"There is something I am missing." Prince Aegon's rumbling voice broke him out of his reverie and he turned to the man. A deep frown was adorned on his bearded face, a frown that was equally contemplative and troubled.
He wondered what the Prince felt he missed.
He had no talent for the arcane…nor the blood.
It seemed as if one had to possess a history of magic in ones' bloodline to do true magic and those were few and far between, at least as far they could tell.
Even Fororlan, for all of his knowledge of the arcane, had not the blood needed to do anything more than create wildfyre.
The Prince had both.
"Closer than any other since the doom" Edwyn pointed out, still half-shocked somewhat. Which was completely true, Edwyn thought to himself.
At least as far as they knew.
It was only a year since they'd found the manuscript and the progress the Prince has made since then when it came to creating flames and dragonstone was astounding.
"My Prince." Fororlan's voice cut through his thoughts and he eyed the Alchemist with wary eyes. The Alchemist was looking towards the Prince with a knowing feel about it, as if he knew why it failed.
He glanced towards the Prince and was almost startled at the coldness of Prince Aegon's expression. His eyes were as hard as gemstones as they bore down onto the Alchemist. Fororlan looked contrite and bowed his head under the chilling look of the Prince and uttered "I understand, my Prince" before bowing fully.
Edwyn was left more than a bit uncertain about the exchange, especially since he suspected that whatever it was that Fororlan was suggesting had thrown the Prince into cold anger…and he had his terrible suspicions.
He'd known Fororlan for over six years and knew the man to be many things, brilliant and driven, but equally he did not have a care much else beyond the arcane.
A combination that churned Edwyn's stomach for he knew the deeds the man was and would be capable of to be terrible. And unfortunately, Edwyn also knew that with the Prince's insistence to learn all things magic, Fororlan was likely the least dangerous alchemist-magician the Prince could squeeze out knowledge from.
The good thing was that Edwyn knew the Prince knew of the man's character – and more – and equally Fororlan knew that he'd die a terrible death before he'd have the chance to betray the Prince, after all, the alchemists were outnumbered with the apprenticing boys and men from Dragonstone that Prince Aegon had handpicked, which Fororlan undoubtedly knew.
"I won't be back for some time to repeat this. Set aside any further research on this." Aegon said to Fororlan and the Alchemist nodded affirmatively.
"Of course my Prince. We'll focus our attentions on production" the Alchemist said and Aegon looked away from the alchemist, dismissing the man in his silent ways, before turned Edwyn and gestured him to follow him as he began to walk away with the four guards who always shadowed the Prince in tow.
"You mentioned you felt as if you were missing something" Edwyn inquired on as they walked through the building where the alchemists resided.
"Hmm" the Prince confirmed as they veered towards the outer doors. The Prince took a look at him for a moment before answering "The manuscript, for all of its usefulness, is by and large useless." Edwyn raised his eyebrows at that.
The manuscript had been bought from one of Fororlan's contacts in Volantis, written by a man named Laziros over a century ago, supposedly a Qartheen in origin, on the premise that it contained the secrets of fire magic – and how to create dragonstone.
One of many such manuscripts and texts the Prince had collected over the years though this manuscript had the air of genuineness about it, according to both Fororlan and the Prince.
He'd gone over the manuscript with the Prince and Fororlan though the words meant little to him. Much of it the text seemed nonsense to him, almost spiritual in a queer and unholy way, with descriptions that ran heavy with alleged connections and weaving or guiding those connections into acting or doing something.
Yet despite all of that, he'd been proven wrong when it came to the nonsense of the text the very first time Prince Aegon controlled flames.
"Useful but useless, my Prince?" Edwyn questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Prince Aegon smiled faintly through his beard, a trace of amusement on his now common usual stone face. "Mayhaps its harsher than it deserves. Nonetheless, the value of the manuscript had long since lost its value" the Prince said.
He glancing at Edwyn when he spoke again. "There are no secrets of how to create dragonstone within the manuscript. Laziros did not know how to create it. Much of his suppositions is only intelligent guesswork. He was however, it seems, at least a fire mage of some modicum of talent, though he did not possess any fundamental knowledge that anyone couldn't have worked out on their own when it comes to fire manipulation with enough time and the luck of talent."
Edwyn frowned. "Then how…"
"How did I get accomplish what I did today?" the Prince finished Edwyn's train of thought.
Edwyn nodded. The Prince remained silent for a moment as they reached the outer doors. "I used a different kind of flame but it isn't enough, I don't think, even if I had enough of it. There is more to it, beyond simply wrestling that which exists to ones will and imagination. I will need to discover a better way and what is missing." the Prince said as he began to stroke his beard, his brows furrowing in contemplation.
Neither of them said anything as they made it out of building that sat atop of Alchemist hill, one of four hills that Corinth was situated in between off, and walked down the snaking steps that lead to the town.
Edwyn glanced at the Prince and saw him still deeply lost in his thoughts, a kind of lost that was different to the kind of cold contemplation that had struck him over the past several moons.
An expression he welcomed, to say the truth.
Even if it was on the matters of the arcane. Even if it was fleeting in the face of other more urgent problems that needed solving.
It was the look that he'd seen when they were stuck on a problem with no obvious answers, like how far they'd need to go to redesign their flagships using timber which was heavier and weaker than the ironwood that current fleet of flagships were made out of or the time when they had to find substitute materials in Walano for the liquid stone he and the Prince created.
Edwyn sighed silently and for a moment paused in his thoughts, instead focusing on the pin pricks of light from burning oil lamps that lined the streets of Corinth, pin pricks of lights that seemed like the mirrors of the stars above.
Despite the problems they faced, from the growing sinking feeling that the men they'd sent out west were dead, and the problem of the preying of their trade ships by pirates by Walano, Edwyn couldn't help but focus on the positives despite the shadows those heavy problems cast upon them.
And there were plenty of positives as he gazed upon the town, a town that Edwyn thought was a beacon of hope he'd rarely thought possible.
To this day, he marvelled at the faith the commonfolk formerly of Dragonstone had in the Prince when he'd asked and convinced them to come with him – 'Your ancestors left with Aenar the Exile to escape the Doom. Trust in me as Aenar trusted Daenys when I tell you off the Promised Land' – a faith that had only grown to near zealotry as the town grew in prosperity and opportunity, both things that for many of the commonfolk, had only ever been possible under the guidance of the Prince.
Then came the people and children who'd been born into slavery and knew nothing but chains and misery were welcomed like long lost kin into the homes and hearth of Corinth, and for many, it was the first kind of kindness they'd ever experienced.
Former slave children were raised amongst the children of the commonfolk whilst the adult slaves were granted homes and trained in their choice of duty, be it farming, craftsmanship, soldiery, or otherwise.
There was a sense of community that Edwyn was hard pressed to find anywhere in Westeros and he doubted even the famed Wintertown could compete with the kind of community the Prince and the Princess have created here.
And the people of Corinth knew that too and they loved the family of dragonriders for it beyond measure.
'Keep faith in the young Prince, Edwyn. One day, he'll stop hiding and you'll see.' Grandmaester Elysar's words rang in his mind when he'd asked the man if he should go to the Citadel and earn his links or stay with the Prince.
He'd stayed with the Prince ever since then.
He thought he'd seen what the Grandmaester meant when they were theorising the nature of the world or replicating goods like Yi-Tish porcelain or glass or liquid stone or the many, many other things that now sustained Corinth.
That Elysar had meant to mean his clever mind that seemed as if it drew on divine inspiration and would have seen him forge as many links within the Citadel should he have chosen that route. In less than a decade, they made more progress on the sciences than the last three hundred Edywn estimated. But he'd been wrong.
That had been only one side of the Prince and it was not even most important side.
It wasn't even his talent in magic, a talent that Edwyn knew Elysar did not know, that Edwyn thought to himself.
The Prince himself had not known until years after Elysar's death.
No, it was the Prince's ability to inspire people to follow him, abilities that Edwyn had known the Prince capable of but not to the extent he'd seen in the moons before they'd arrived in the Summer Isles and ever since then.
Yes…
Grandmaester Elysar could see clearer than any man he'd known before and since.
"If you frown any deeper, it may become permanent." Aegon said, his distinctly rumbling voice shaking him out of his thoughts.
Edwyn turned towards the Prince, the light of the torches carried by the guards behind them casting onto his face. He smiled a little as he stopped twiddling with the beads of his necklace his wife had made for him that, twiddling that he hadn't known he was doing.
"Just thinking on the town and how far it has come in such a short time." Edwyn elected to say, unwilling to share his thoughts of the Prince.
The corners of the Prince's mouth drove upward, moving his cheeks, the only way to know nowadays if he was smiling or not under the well-kept but thick beard he had.
"Aye. It amazes me as well." the Prince said, a note of pride and affection in his voice before he continued "I can only imagine what we will build once we find our home." The Prince lost the smile and gazed upon the town and his face melted into cold marble stone that seemed capable of stifling any source of warmth.
"Yet there are those that seek to strangle it in the crib" the way the Prince spoke sent chills down Edwyn's spine.
His tone had been calm yet the fury laden within it was undeniable.
The Prince knew those who were taken and knew them by name. And if there is one element that kept Edwyn wary about the Prince, beyond his magic, it was his penchant to never forgive a slight…or threat.
Edwyn remained silent for a few moments as they descended down the last quarter of the steps before glancing nervously away towards the distant lights downstream of the river where the port was and where he knew the captured crew of the pirate ships were located. "Have we discovered who?" he asked.
"Yes. And no." the Prince answered as he peered at Edwyn. "We know who is responsible but I do not believe they are acting without support."
Edwyn thoughts immediately went to the Triarchy when he thought of who that support may be. There was a chance that Myr was acting alone – with the way they were filling Lys' coffers by purchasing slaves, he did not think they would want to risk that now that Braavos was supplying their own gold and ships for Daemon's Conquest – but he wasn't sure of it, not with how heated the affair was becoming.
With Prince Daemon warring with the Triarchy in the Stepstones with the Velaryons and the financial and material backing of Braavos, it was certainly possible that the faction agreed to attack Corinth in this way in retaliation against Daemon.
And, Edwyn thought, the want-away knights sent to join Prince Daemon probably was a good reason to believe that Prince Aegon was not as neutral as it appeared.
Prince Aegon narrowed his eyes before looking away towards the distance.
"It doesn't matter who is supporting them, not right now. We'll answer the offense as is due. Sooner or later." the Prince paused for a moment before adding.
"It will be discussed in the next council meeting."
Edwyn nodded gravely, already suspecting of what the Prince will do.
There was little choice but to.
Soon enough they arrived at the town, passing by the racetrack where carriage races, jousts and melees took place, walking past buildings and homes which still had people going about their business as market shops that sold from spice and herbs to silk and porcelain remained open.
The styles of the homes and buildings was not beautiful, not like the colourful buildings that be found in Tyrosh or the red topped buildings of Kings Landing, and the folk never sought to change it knowing that efforts would be wasted since it was only a matter of time before they left for the lands Prince Aegon promised them.
The Prince often stopped to talk and questioned the people around them about this or that, an act that Edwyn saw delighted each and every one of them, and from the way the Prince spoke with them, it pleased him too.
At times, he wondered if the commonfolk, particularly the men and women who'd been raised with the Faith, would revere the Prince so if they knew of his wants and abilities in magic. He'd never been a pious man, not when he was considered a living sin for merely being born, but that could not be said for thousands of others.
Yet, each time he thought about it, each time he saw the Prince made fire dance to his will, and each time he saw the looks of the commonfolk when he was talking with them, Edwyn knew that the Faith would lose that battle of reverence.
Just as he knew that the freed slaves who came with their queer faiths of Red Gods and a dozen other faiths, though many of whom were converting to the Faith of the Seven, the Faith to which their Prince held himself to, would not choose their faiths over the Prince and his family.
Especially without the presence of priests or septons and septas to argue against the practice and use of magic.
The topic of the crew on the long gone ships came up, a topic that was kept from the majority of people – though it was not a secret to the common folk that the men on those ships were in search for their home, just not where – and how the Prince managed to seem so sincere when he'd answered with 'soon' when in grim truths no one but only the Gods could know of the fate of those sailors, Edwyn knew not.
And as they walked away from the common folk, the sincere expression on the Prince's face fell, once more becoming unreadably cold though Edwyn knew the Prince well enough to know that the lack of news disturbed the Prince greatly.
Whilst most people did not know, enough knew about the search out West that it could spark seeds of doubt in the Prince. He did not doubt that the Prince knew it.
By the time they got to the gates of the castle built on top of the hill on the other side of the town, it was well into the night. He closed the door to his room and soft moans were elicited by the sharp clunking sound of the door.
"Edwyn?" Clarissa's sleepily called out as she peered her head upward.
"Yes, it's me." Edwyn whispered as he took of his robes. He got into the bed and kissed the top of her head, which caused his wife to make a pleased sound, and she settled into his arms.
"You're late" she complained sleepily.
Edwyn sighed exasperated.
"You know I can't help it. Not when I'm with the Prince." She only harrumphed as she took his hand placed it on top of her swollen belly.
"Excuses." She muttered though not without a teasing tone to her voice.
Edwyn chuckled slightly and tightened his grip on her before sleep took them away.
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108 AC, Corinth
Castorys POV
Castorys sidestepped the downward swinging sword and raised his sword up as the boy opposite him moved his feet and changed his body to strike.
'Read the way your opponent moves, Castorys' rang in his head, almost as loudly as the wood clanged in the training pitch.
Castorys moved his feet with the blow and twisted his body hard as he swung at the boy. The other boy only barely managed to raises his sword and it wasn't a good block for he was unbalanced and Castorys pressed, his blows hitting hard and fast, his feet felt like they were dancing across the ground, and he thought he'd win this time.
But he'd called victory too soon for the older boy managed to turn his last blow to his left side and twisted around whilst ducking before slashing upward, catching Castorys off-guard. The elder boy pressed. Low cuts. High cuts. Each blow Castorys felt until one strike knocked the sword out of his hand as it struck it.
"Ahhh." Castorys cried out and held his hand before he bit his lip to stifle his cries. So hard that he thought he was tasting blood on his tongue.
"My Prince." The older boy hurried over towards Castorys, concern and fear etched on his scarred and egg-shaped face. Castorys looked at the older boy with a glare as the other guards were approaching. The boy, Nico, was mayhaps three years old than Castorys was and probably oldest boy amongst the group of squires.
Older and stronger and faster but he had been so close to finally beating him…
The sounds of slow clapping surprised both of them and they both turned towards the sound. Castorys flushed when he saw his father there between his younger brothers and the other boys, standing there with a large smile on his bearded face.
"Well done boys" his father rumbled out before he began to walk towards them.
Nico hastily stood aside, his head slightly bowed but Castorys could see the boy being scared. "Your Grace." Nico stammered, so unlike the confident boy moments before.
His father's warm expression didn't change as he spoke "Boy, why don't you get washed up?" His father said calmly before looking towards the guards and jerked his head.
The guards nodded to father and left with his brothers who gave him a consoling smile before leaving with the other boys with Nico following them quietly.
Some of the guards remained and stood aside though never far away, hovering like quiet sentinels.
Castorys looked away from father's face as he gripped his sore hand. "Let me see." Father said calmly but firmly and Castorys jerked his hand towards his father though he didn't look to his father but instead towards the ground.
His father was gentle with his hand but he still winced when he felt father pushed his hands on it. "It'll be sore for a few days, mayhaps a week but your hand will be fine." Father said calmly.
Great, Castorys thought morosely.
So in another week's time he'll lose to Nico…again.
Today already was the fourth time.
"Castorys." Father's sharp voice made him wince. He heard his father say.
"Son." Father said, this time gentler, softer and Castorys looked to his father.
His father was looking at him gently, kindly and Castorys couldn't help when he bit hard onto his lip as he struggled not to cry. His father saw it and smiled gently before swooping him up and Castorys clung tightly to his father's neck as he buried his face in the crook of his father's neck.
By the time he was finished sniffling – he was not crying – he felt embarrassed for acting like a little kid. He hadn't cried in forever and now he cries? He was almost eight namedays old! He was meant to be better! A warrior like father!
He let go of his father's neck and his father looked at him warmly. "Feel better now?"
Castorys flushed and his father chuckled as he gently placed Castorys down. He looked around and saw that the guards were looking away, their black glass knives gleaming in the light of the morning sun whilst thankfully there was no one else there. At least no one but father saw him, he thought relieved but still embarrassed.
He felt father's hand on his shoulder.
"Castorys…look at me." Castorys looked at his father and met his mismatching eyes.
"Why were you so upset?" his father asked.
Castorys bit his lip momentarily before he spoke.
"I'm meant to be better than every kid! I can't even beat Nico!" Castorys said frustrated and upset. He was father's heir, everyone expected him to be the best!
The other boys, the people of Corinth, even the guards!
How could he prove that he was the best if he couldn't win even once over Nico who wasn't even as good as others like Maenes or Lomer who were only two namedays older than Nico and could fight with men much older than they!
"Castorys." Father said with a frown. "You're only eight years old and Nico is almost twelve. At your ages, even one year is enough to be a big difference. You're not meant to defeat everyone, you're meant to learn how to fight." His father said gently.
"Everyone else thinks otherwise." Castorys muttered.
No one said anything to Castorys but Castorys knew. He saw it in the faces of the other boys his age and older. Boys that expected him to be undefeatable and amazing like father was. His father, the great dragon that no one could defeat, his father who would take them to the promised lands where no one has ever been before!
Not even the Crow Warriors of Omboru – who tried many times – could defeat father! Everyone expected him to be just like father but Castorys couldn't even beat a former slave like Nico whose only been learning to fight for two years!
"Everyone else is wrong." Father said firmly as he forced Castorys to meet his gaze again. "You're learning and you're doing well. You do not have to prove anything to anyone at all, least of all to anyone at just eight namedays" father said gently as he smiled at Castory.
Castorys nodding weakly before he gave a weak smile when father stared at him sternly with that 'you better listen' look. Father lost the look and smiled gently at him before he stood straight up again towering over Castorys.
There were not many that were taller or bigger than father.
"You have nothing to worry about, my boy." Father said with a kind smile.
"Anyone with eyes knows how good you are. You're holding your own against an older boy and you're leagues ahead where I was as a boy your age." Castorys looked sceptical at that and father chuckled as he ruffled Castorys' hair.
Everyone called father as the best fighter in all of the Summer Isles and mayhaps across all of the known world and Castorys believed it.
He'd seen father fight and he never seen anything so amazing.
He was like the storm that raged during the summer season, each hit of father's Castorys imagined was hit with the strength of thunder as clashing steel hit with the way father always fought with power and amazing speed.
"Truly." Father said to him with a smile as he placed his big hand onto Castorys' shoulder and led him towards the outside.
"So do not fret, my son. With enough hard work and dedication, you will become even better than I am." Father said to Castorys.
"Really?" Castorys asked with surprise and hope but also some disbelief.
"Of course." Father said before he stopped them and crouched down slightly so that their faces were close to each other again.
"I have no doubt that you, your brothers and your sister will be better than I ever was or ever will be." Father said in Greek with a faint smile before he continued as he held onto Castorys' shoulders, eyes alight with pride.
"Polaerys takes after your mother with that mind he possesses. Valarr has a curiosity that I can see taking and lifting him beyond the heavens itself. Your sister and little brother are still young yet but they also show promise in their own ways." Father said to him softly as his proud eyes bored into Castorys.
His father grasped a little tighter onto his shoulders as he spoke and Castorys couldn't look away from his father's eyes. "You and your siblings are my pride and joy. My reason for everything." Father said quietly to Castorys with a serious expression as he held even tighter onto his shoulders.
"And you, Castorys, I have no doubt that you will become greater than I, not only for our family but for our people. You are the brother that your siblings look up to and many of the other children do the same. You will build monuments upon the foundation I will lay. You are special Castorys. Know that and know that I believe in you, my son." Father added and Castorys leapt and hugged father again.
Father's words felt like how the warm kiss of the sun at dawn felt on the skin after a swim in the cold ocean but instead of the skin, he felt it at the centre of his being.
Father chuckled softly as he tapped Castorys' back gently.
Castorys looked at his father and saw that his smile was gone and instead there was a glimmer in his eyes, a glimmer he recognised. He'd seen it when father was talking with mother or with the advisors.
"Remember what I told you about others that you dislike?"
"That others I don't like can still be helpful"
Castorys parroted back his father's words. Father always would sit down with him and Polaerys and Valarr, speaking to them and teaching them and asking them strange and difficult questions that made them think a lot. Sometimes, he didn't understand but the lesson he repeated to father he understood a lot.
Father nodded slightly. "We will always face challenges in life, my son. Sometimes those challenges can be other people." Father told him seriously.
"It is up to you to decide how you will meet those challenges." His father tapped him on his temple. Castorys nodded obediently, knowing exactly what father meant and wanted from him.
"I understand father." Castorys said dutifully and determined.
Father smiled. "Good" he intoned, switching back to High Valyrian which everyone including the guards understood, before he rose up.
Father placed his hand on top of Castorys' hair. "Come, your brothers will be waiting for you. I missed their bouts but Ser Baerys said that they both won." Father said and Castorys bobbed his head even as his father's hand remained on his head.
"Yes, Polaerys took down Miram quickly though Valarr took a bit long to disarm Emrym." Castorys said to father before describing the fights of his brothers.
Soon enough Castorys was with his brothers again who were waiting on him. Father spoke with his brothers briefly and praised them both on their fights. Valarr cheekily asked if his reward could be to fly on Shrykos. His father only said that Valarr should ask his mother if that could be his reward and Valarr's expression was very funny.
Probably imagined their mother's tongue-lashing for even asking that when they all knew they had to be twelve before they'd be allowed to ride their dragons.
Father left soon afterwards, leaving him behind with his brothers.
"You'll get him next time" Valarr said encouragingly with an encouraging nod when the topic of Castorys' duel with Nico came up. "If it wasn't that trickery, you'd have won! Next time you will know that he can do that trick!"
"We can train every day after dinner if you like." Polaerys offered.
Castorys looked at Polaerys as if he'd grown an extra head "You never want to do anything after dinner" he asked in bemused disbelief.
Valarr laughed at that "That's so true! It's my favourite time to play you in chess because you become so lazy after a full belly!"
Polaerys pushed Valarr in annoyance "That only happened once!"
"No! It happened three times!"
"They don't count, I stopped playing before the game was finished!"
"So? That still means I won!"
Castorys laughed at his brothers' antics and smiled as his twin and their younger bickered endlessly even as they left the castle training yard.
Later, after Castorys caught up with his twin and their younger brother and had gone to see their dragons, Castorys told his guards that he wanted to speak with Nico.
"Nico." Castorys said as he found him in the other training yard outside the castle walls where the boys Castorys and his brothers trained with, like Nico, lived with the families of the servants.
It wasn't the only training yard either. There were many in the town below, even three nearby the racetracks and most of them were open to everyone.
Father even encouraged it to be used and liked to say that everyone should learn how to defend themselves. Most people always did what father or mother wanted them to do so they were always used. Plus, father explained to him and his brothers that the former slaves never wanted to be slaves again so many of them saw training as a way to prevent it from ever happening again.
Nico was different though. He, and some of the other boys, were freed from Lys when they were very young and were kind of like unwanted in Lys because they weren't the 'best' whatever that meant. Best at what, he wondered but mother and father and even the other boys didn't explain so he stopped asking.
The boys that Castorys trained with had no parents but they were brought up with 'foster' families, his father had said, families that had enough room to take in another boy or two and when those close to his and his brothers' age wanted to learn how to fight, father had them included in the training with them.
The older boys that were on the cusp of manhood were training with the captains and the commander…kind of like squires if he remembered his lessons rightly.
"My Prince." Nico said a little warily as he glanced at the guards and stepped back.
Castorys' eyes widened and hurriedly spoke up "I'm not here to do anything!" before he turned around and said about the guards "And they won't as well."
"Prince Aegon would have us strung up and beat us half to death himself if we did what you think we would do, boy." One of his guards, Emry, said dryly and roughly though it was clear that they at least found the situation a little funny.
"Why did you think I would make them do anything like that?" Castorys questioned a little confused. Nico scratched the back of his head.
"Well…some of the older boys who heard what happened said I'm in big trouble for hurting one of the dragon Princes. That hurting Princes, 'specially one like you can get you killed. They said that in Lys, even looking at the nobles wrongly there gets you gelded or worse even killed." Nico said carefully with his odd accent.
"Well, we're not like that." Castorys said a little offended, unsure what 'gelded' meant but whatever it was, it didn't sound nice at all and he did hear the guards shift beside him who he saw had uncomfortable faces.
Nico smiled a little sheepishly.
"I know. But…" Nico shrugged and they both fell into a little lull.
One that Castorys broke.
"I…" Castorys began a little awkwardly before shaking his head and looked at Nico.
"The twist thing that you did…it was good." Castorys said a little hesitantly.
Nico smiled slightly before shrugging "I kinda learned how to be slippery in Lys."
Nico paused for a second before adding "If you like, I can teach you how I do it?"
Castorys brightened up that before he reigned in his excitement and gave a little nod.
"I'd like that." Castorys said calmly like he often saw father speak but still…
He couldn't help but let a little smile bloom on his face.
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108 AC – Port Corinth
Ser Cedrick Leodon POV
His boots clunked on the stone steps as he descended down, the growing sounds of tortured screams, wails and begging ringing in his ears.
He arrived at the bottom of this miserable place and walked passed the guards before continuing down the dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly.
He'd been here before it was turned into a prison, when it'd just been a well-hidden cavern deep below the surface with pools of cobalt water and walls that glittered with pink gemstones.
Much of it had been mined but the beauty of the cavern had still been there.
He glanced at the hollowed out grey rocky walls before veering towards the mostly empty cells with steel bars that lined the inner parts of this passage and the three other passages of the cavern. There was none of that now. How quickly things could change in merely a few moons.
The sounds of torture grew louder as he approached his destination.
He passed by a couple of patrols before arriving at the central parts of the prison that connected to the other passageways where dozen guards were seated playing a game of stones and tiles before gazing upon the heavy set doors that hid chambers where the guards questioned the prisoners behind doors that did little to hide the screams.
The guards roused out and upwards before they could speak, Cedrick asked impatiently "Where is Trytas?" his gaze veering to the doors where he could hear were at least three voices of men that were being tortured.
"He's in with one of the pirate captains." One of the guards said before another pointed to one of the doors and Cedrick set his jaw slightly before he brusquely walked towards the door.
Cedrick pushed against the door and the door swung open, violently, and Trytas twisted around with his dagger at the ready though he relaxed when he realised who it was.
Cedrick's gaze turned towards the naked and hanging man whose breathing was shallow and weak though that was not what caught his attentions, no, it was the crisscrossing cuts sliced into the man's flesh that looked deep and some old, the nails embedded in the man's knees and elbows, and the burn marks seared into his thighs.
"Ser Cedrick." Trytas greeted with a curious but hard look on his face.
Cedrick returned his impassive gaze to Trytas.
Trytas was a blond-haired man in his mid-twenties of average height though what made him stand out what his burliness. A farmer's son then turned sailor then turned guardsman, Trytas was strong as an ox and quickly became one of the better fighters.
Trytas was also one of the more unscrupulous men in Corinth and the kind of man who could sleep soundly after torturing a man to death.
"What can I do for you?"
Cedrick narrowed his eyes slightly as he answered "The Prince is coming on the morrow. He wants to interrogate the last captain himself." Cedrick paused as he scrutinised Trytas and moments later asked "You have kept him…untouched?"
"I haven't touched that pirate" Trytas said defensively "our Prince was clear in what he wanted when we got them in." Trytas responded and Cedrick did not like the tone but he ignored it.
Cedrick nodded "Good." Cedrick's eyes darted towards the hanging man "Try and keep that one alive. The Prince will want to use him"
Trytas raised his eyebrows before he glanced at the pirate "That may be…difficult."
Cedrick scoffed "I can see that" he said before shaking his head and peering at Trytas "Just try it. It's not as if there are many other pirates still alive."
Trytas somehow managed to look sheepish.
Two hundred men those two pirate ships had carried. Two hundred men. The first crew of the pirate ship had long died and nearly all of the crew of the second pirate ship were dead now too. All in the space of less than three moons.
"Did you at least get any more useful information from him?" Cedrick asked as he looked at the hanging pirate. Trytas grumbled.
"No. The same story. I doubt the other pirate captain will say anything else."
"That is for the Prince to find out."
Trytas grunted and Cedrick nodded curtly before turning around but before he could leave through the door Trytas asked him "Will we go hunt and kill them all?"
Cedrick paused in his steps and slowly turned around.
Trytas bore a grim and hard face as he stared directly at Cedrick.
"I know our Prince won't let this insult lie. I want to be there fighting alongside him."
Cedrick wore an inquisitive look on his face, one that Trytas got and answered "A friend of mine, a good friend, Jace, was on one of the ships." Trytas said to him in a hard voice before adding "We started out as deck mates together."
Cedrick said nothing for a moment before nodding.
"I will make sure of it." Cedrick promised, all but confirming the man's suspicions.
Trytas grunted as he nodded with a pleased expression before he looked at the almost corpse "I'll keep the bastard alive. For the Prince."
Cedrick turned back around and walked out of the door.
Once he was out of the dark and gloomy cavern, he made the journey back to the Port where dozens of carracks were docked, along with one of the returning fleets from the Far East, in the wider part of the river stream which bore a good enough harbour for the docks and the shipbuilding yards.
Normally it wouldn't be as full as it was now but with the threat of the pirate ships that they knew were patrolling their trade routes, ships were now only sent in large fleets with thrice the men on them much like how they sent the fleet to the Far East.
It meant that there were fewer sailors that could man the ships available.
Porth Corinth's dockyard wasn't as large as Dragonstone's dockyards nor were the number of ships they could built high but they did the job in maintaining their current fleets and more importantly building of the topsail larger ships that served to be their flagships.
The journey back to the town was smooth and quick as he travelled on horse on the smooth roads that lead to the town, which in the distance flew large banners with the colours of the Prince's personal heraldry.
As he rode through the centre of town, the smells of spices and cooked foods assaulted his noise and the sight of colourful silks and cloths and potteries lined the streets.
It looked very much like the wealthier parts of Kings Landing did, on a good day, but without the lovely smell of shit and perfumes that pervaded the main markets, the only difference was that there were many more dragonseeds than there were Westerosi, Cedrick mused to himself.
A consequence of tens of thousands of slaves bought and freed from their chains.
Of course, that wasn't to say they were the only peoples here.
There were still many Westerosi, few Essosi like Braavosi or Qohori or Meerenese, and many Summer Islanders too though they often only came to trade with how much closer Corinth was to their villages than Tall Trees Town or Lotus Port which was at the other side of the river.
He passed through the main town centre and rode passed the buildings that housed the Guilds of healing and sciences. The Prince had spent much coin on convincing healers from all around Essos to come join them and offered many promises of support to fund their experiments and needs.
After the trade ships ventured across the Known World and returned, it wasn't odd to see them bring to these Guilds strange plants and woods and even insects for one reason or another, sometimes a simple rumour that this or that herb had magical powers to heal any wound was enough for it to be bought and brought to the healers.
It wasn't long before he reached the steps to the castle that stood atop the tallest hill in the region, a dull grey castle with high walls. It was build much like the rest of the town was, with liquid stone, though it was left unpainted.
The builders that had come with them from Braavos often lamented the Prince's austerity, his refusal to allow them to build a monument worthy of his family name, but Cedrick cared little for it.
He knew the Prince well and knew that he thought of the castle as a necessity to protect the young Princes and Princess, and not a home. No, his thoughts of home always cast West, to the unknown lands that lie beyond the vast seas.
He would have thought it folly but…
He knew the kind of man the Prince and knew what he was capable of.
He held no doubts that if the Prince said that there was land West of the Summer Isles, then he had good reasons to believe there was land West of the Summer Isles.
It would only be a matter of time before they found it.
He was escorted through the castle and after he arrived at the top floor, he was let through the doors to one of the guarded main halls and walked through.
Prince Aegon was there with the youngest children, along with the hound Rex which reared its head towards him as he lay on the ground, a grey coloured bitch that the Prince had purchased as a pup amongst the other pups he purchased mere moons before their departure from Westeros, hounds now grown and kept and cared for in the kennels by dog breeders the Prince convinced to come with them.
The hound was always there with the family, even during their meals. He'd found it strange, why the hound wasn't with the other hounds in the kennels but he knew better than to question such an unimportant point.
The youngest of them, Prince Solonys was playing with the popular children's game, a game that had blocks of wood carved in two dozen shapes that had to be slotted into a wooden table with hollowed out shapes, whilst the only daughter, Princess Rhaena was using coloured chalk on blackened wood, another popular children's toy.
"My Prince." Cedrick bowed his head and the Prince gestured him inward before returning his attentions to his youngest children.
"How is young Edmund?" the Prince asked as he turned his gaze towards Cedrick.
Cedrick was surprised by the sudden question but answered "He is healthy." he said with a faint smile as he thought of his young son who was about the age of Prince Solonys, eight moons old.
He'd married two years ago to Elyse, a baker's girl he'd known since before they left, and she'd given him a son, something he couldn't have imagine he'd have when he'd been nothing more than a 'Kings Landing rat'.
The moment he'd held his son in his arms, Cedrick promised him that he'd have everything he'd need in life, everything that Cedrick had not when he was begotten.
"Though he is still not sleeping well." Cedrick admitted. For the past sennight, he kept waking at all times of the night. "Elyse says that it's because of his teething."
"Hmm. Yes. It can be painful for the child" the Prince said glancing at his youngest for a moment before he turned and met Cedrick's gaze.
"I will have someone send in a remedy, a pale white paste, that can sooth the pain. It seems to work. It has helped Rhaena and it is helping Solonys."
Cedrick smiled at the Prince, gratitude filling him.
"Thank you, my Prnce" he said sincerely.
The Prince nodded pleased before his eyes turned inquisitively and Cedrick understood it.
"Everything will be ready, my Prince. Trytas has not broken the orders."
The Prince merely nodded after a few moments before he moved to assist the babbling Prince Solonys that tried to put in the square block into the triangular hole.
"Good." The Prince said as he guided the infant boy towards the right square hole.
"We'll have no need for the prison come the end of the morrow. It will be closed" the Prince said calmly as he kept most of his attentions on the infant boy, smiling as the child correctly slotted the wooden block in.
"My Prince..." Cedrick began and the Prince turned to look at him with an inquisitive glint in his eyes. "We have what we need from the pirates." Nearly all of the prates had said the same thing time and again. They knew exactly who their enemies were now and where they were. Cedrick paused momentarily and eyed the children before looking at the Prince again who simply waved him on to continue and he did.
"Wh-"
"Why do I wish to see the pirate captain myself?"
Cedrick nodded slightly.
The Prince hummed as he leaned back fully into his chair and turned to face Cedrick, his expression turning to stone though the fury was undeniable in his eyes.
Cedrick knew then that it wasn't a matter of doubting the information the guards had extracted. No, instead, it was the kind of matter that all men felt at least once in their lives.
Cedrick bowed his head in acceptance.
The coldness in the Prince's face faded away and in its stead, seriousness crept in.
"I will task Galaenys and Maerro to intensify the training of our men." The Prince said with full seriousness and Cedrick nodded gravely understanding why.
The Prince continued "I will be adding you as the third commander and you will lead the garrisons that I will leave behind in my name." Cedrick ears peaked at that.
They had about thirteen garrisons they could call to muster and if they needed to increase it by drawing off of the full time farmers, it could jump to fifteen or sixteen and at a push, they could call upon the rest of the men of Corinth that were trained in the matters of bows and spears.
"As you command, my Prince. How many garrisons?"
As much as he was disappointed that he wouldn't be going with the Prince, he also knew that it was the more important posting for the Prince and it was an honour to be trusted with it.
"Six" the Prince answered.
"My Prince." Cedrick began, his voice tinging with concern.
"You'll take only three and a half thousand men with you?" The Basilisk Isles was large and a dangerous place, a place of a thousand and one islands, filled with pirates, slavers, murders and monsters, truly a place of depravity fit only for others of the same ilk.
And there were near a hundred or more pirate lairs in that cursed isles. The Isle of Flies alone boasted near a dozen alone whilst Talon, a claw shaped island north of the Isles of Tears, was said to be one of the most fortified pirate dens out of all the Basilisk Isles.
Even with the sailors of a fleet of thirty, the Prince would only have six or seven thousand men with him. Far too few to deal with the problem of the Pirate King.
The Prince smiled grimly "Yes" he simply answered before his expression hardened "Do not fret. I have a few plans to equalize the disparity in numbers." Cedrick could hear the steel in the Prince's voice.
Cedrick bowed his head in acceptance. "Of course my Prince. As you command."
The Prince's expression lessening slightly as he nodded before returning his attentions to the children. "That is all. I will speak with you again on the morrow."
Cedrick bowed before the Prince before he turned around and walked away.
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