Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Chapter 373 - 373: Fear in Braavos

For the people of Westeros, the coronation of Lynd Tarran—the Chosen of the Seven Gods—as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms marked the end of war and the return of order. The founding of the Tarran Dynasty was welcomed by nearly everyone.

Even the lords of the Vale made their way to King's Landing soon after the announcement to pledge fealty to the new king.

The siege of the Eyrie ended on the fourth day after Lynd's proclamation. Lysa Tully had been captured by her own suitors, and all the checkpoints leading to the Eyrie ceased their resistance, allowing the allied army of Vale lords, led by Bronze Yohn Royce, to march straight in.

The turning point came when Lynd, immediately after his coronation announcement, sent an open letter to the Eyrie. Its contents mirrored a previous decree from Lord Tywin, ordering Lysa Tully to leave the Eyrie and relocate to Riverrun, and placing Robert Arryn under the guardianship of Bronze Yohn Royce until he came of age and could inherit the title of Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East.

Though the orders were identical, their impact was vastly different. The people of the Eyrie had ignored Tywin's command, knowing he lacked the means to take the castle. But Lynd was a different matter entirely—he had two dragons, and more importantly, as the Chosen of the Seven, he held immense prestige in the Vale, a region devoutly faithful to the Seven Gods. The moment Lynd's order arrived, those who had supported Lysa Tully, hoping to gain power through marriage, immediately turned on her. With help from devout city guards, they launched a surprise coup, seized the Eyrie in one swift strike, and brought an end to the internal conflict among the Vale lords.

Almost as soon as Yohn Royce entered the Eyrie, took Robert Arryn under his protection, and dispatched guards to escort the half-delirious Lysa Tully to Riverrun, the Sons of the Chosen—veterans in combating wildling tribes—entered the Mountains of the Moon to begin eliminating the numerous wildling clans responsible for the uprising in the Vale.

The bulk of these troops were themselves former wildlings from the Red Mountains, deeply familiar with wildling customs, lifestyle, and combat strategies. They were also outfitted with top-tier equipment.

Though the wildling tribes in the Mountains of the Moon had looted considerable wealth during the rebellion, they had lost many of their warriors in the process and were severely weakened.

Against the full might of the Sons of the Chosen, they stood no chance. In less than a month, the wildling threat was crushed. The remaining tribes were scattered and relocated across various regions, handed over to local officials to be assimilated—a task Lynd's men were already well-practiced in.

During the campaign, many lords whose lands had been ravaged by the wildlings joined the effort. Witnessing the might of the Sons of the Chosen firsthand, they too began to hope that Lynd would recruit from among their own people. For these devout followers of the Seven, becoming a Son of the Chosen was the highest reward their faith could offer.

At the same time in the Vale, similar purges of wildling tribes began in the North, the Riverlands, and the Westerlands. As in the Vale, the Sons of the Chosen led the charge, with support from local lords' forces, launching wave after wave of coordinated offensives.

For years, the true power of the Sons of the Chosen—Lynd's personal elite army—had remained a mystery. Their involvement in conflicts had been rare. All that was known was that they had the best equipment, ample warriors, and maintained full readiness as a standing force. Beyond that, little was understood about them.

Now, with Lynd's ascension and the sweeping military campaigns across Westeros, the lords and nobles were finally seeing their strength firsthand. To them, the Sons of the Chosen were a force mighty enough to conquer the entire realm. Their awe and reverence for Lynd only grew deeper.

But outside of Westeros—or more precisely, outside the territory controlled by Lynd—his rise to power was anything but welcome. Anyone with even a hint of strategic sense could see what would come next: once Lynd had stabilized the Seven Kingdoms, his next move would be to unify the Free Cities. Only then could he forge a vast empire spanning two continents.

And now, only two stones remained in the path of that empire: Braavos and Volantis.

Braavos was the first to sense the danger—and to act on it. The Sealord struck out at Lynd, demanding repayment of the debts once owed by King Robert to the Iron Bank. He also tore up the Miracle Fleet's cruising agreement, banned the fleet from entering Braavosi waters, expelled the Miracle Guild, shuttered their headquarters, and took every possible step to weaken Lynd's influence within the city.

But all of these efforts had little effect—because Lynd's true foothold in Braavos was not military or political. It was religious: the Temple of the Storm God.

As a maritime trading city-state, Braavos relied heavily on sea trade for both tax revenue and food supply. Naturally, the city placed great importance on sea weather. Since the day the Storm God first appeared—wielding the power to control storms—He had become one of Braavos's most revered deities.

Over the years, High Septon Lyra had publicly demonstrated divine control over the weather on numerous occasions. Word spread that ships bearing the Storm God's holy emblem were spared disaster in the worst of storms. As a result, the cult of the Storm God rapidly rose to rival the long-dominant Temple of the Moonsingers—perhaps even surpassing it.

A full quarter of Braavos's population openly worshipped the Storm God. And even those who practiced other faiths—so long as they weren't particularly devout—often wore the Storm God's emblem when setting out to sea, hoping for His protection.

Believers or not, nearly every Braavosi knew that the Storm God was none other than Lynd Tarran. So the god's worshippers held Lynd in awe, reverence, and absolute devotion.

When the Sealord began his campaign against Lynd, he briefly considered banning the worship of the Storm God altogether. But that idea never left his mind—he knew it was impossible to implement. To suppress the Storm God's temple would mean not only facing its followers, but risking a rebellion from the devotees of every other temple as well. After all, who could say that the Storm God would be the last to face his wrath?

What made matters even more perplexing was the Storm Temple's reaction—or rather, lack thereof. Despite the Sealord's sweeping measures, the temple made no protest. No anger, no complaints—nothing. It was as if the expulsion of the Miracle Guild was nothing more than the removal of a minor merchant's license. The clergy remained calm, the worshippers quiet. There was no sign of unrest in Lynd's name.

The sheer lack of response left the Sealord uncertain how to proceed.

...

But he didn't have time to dwell on it for long.

On the third day after the expulsion of the Miracle Guild and the cancellation of the cruise pact, a Miracle Fleet—hundreds of warships strong—appeared just beyond Braavos's outer waters and blockaded the city's entire seaport. All vessels were denied passage except for those registered with the Miracle Guild. Merchant ships, fishing boats—it made no difference. The blockade was total.

The Sealord prepared to send out Braavos's own fleet, hoping to meet the Miracle Fleet in open waters, to prove that Braavos still had the strength to face any foe.

But the Braavosi fleet never made it out of the harbor.

Before they could even clear the city's mouth, more than a dozen lead ships were incinerated mid-sail—torched by wildfire canisters hurled from wyverns circling overhead. The wreckage, charred and skeletal, sank at the harbor's mouth, clogging the exit and sealing the city in.

Only then did the Sealord and his advisors realize what they were facing: Lynd had armed the Miracle Fleet with dragonriders mounted on wyverns. For these expert fliers, precision bombing from above was child's play—and ships on the water were nothing more than slow-moving targets.

And it didn't stop there.

The fleets of White Harbor and Dragonstone had also arrived off the coast, joining the blockade. The infamous sea dragon, Cannibal, was spotted patrolling the open waters. Braavos's navy was trapped—boxed into its inner harbor with no way out.

...

While Braavos refused to yield and chose instead to confront Lynd, the Free City of Volantis—also a looming obstacle to the rise of the Tarran Empire—took a completely different approach.

They didn't fight. They didn't resist.

Instead, they sent envoys bearing gifts north to Winterfell, a gesture that made it clear—they had no intention of provoking conflict. Volantis seemed entirely untroubled by the prospect of Lynd turning his attention their way.

...

The contrasting responses of Braavos and Volantis were carefully documented by agents within each city. The records were split into two copies—one sent immediately to King's Landing, the other delivered to the Queen's palace in Ny Sar.

"It looks like we won't be returning to Westeros anytime soon." In the courtyard of the Queen's palace, Nymeria, who had just come back from the front lines in Slaver's Bay to Ny Sar two days earlier, handed a freshly reviewed intelligence report to Daenerys and said, "We need to set out for Braavos. Once we've dealt with Braavos, then we can go back to Westeros."

Daenerys glanced over the report and said, "I lived in Braavos for several years—I know their city defenses well. Attacking from the outside will be difficult. But if Viserys and the others join us, it'll be much easier. We could do what we did at Port Yrs: let them handle the wall guards, cause chaos inside the city, and then push the assault."

She looked up toward the sky, where three dragons soared above them, and added, "If Augustus's dragons could grow as fast as Viserys's, and if they could breathe stronger Dragonfire, we'd be conquering these cities even faster."

Under Nymeria's leadership, Daenerys had been waging war against the city-states west of Qarth, and had begun to enjoy the thrill of conquest. Perhaps it was the blood of Aegon the Conqueror stirring within her—though her compassion remained, she had started to take pleasure in the process of conquest itself.

And perhaps it was due to the Red Comet's influence, but her dragons had grown faster than Augustus's. A few months ago, Daenerys's three dragons were already the size of horses, with wings wide enough to blanket a rooftop. Their Dragonfire had become powerful enough to shift the tide of battle.

Augustus's dragons, by contrast, had only grown to the size of sheep. Their scales provided no real defense, and while they could breathe fire, the flames were weak—on a battlefield, they'd be little more than targets for enemy archers.

Nymeria thought about Daenerys's plan, then shook her head.

"No. We won't use the dragons this time. Braavos has clashed with the Valyrian Freehold before—they're bound to have developed ways of dealing with dragons. It's too dangerous to send them into a direct assault. Your dragons are still young, and while their fire might be effective in the open, it won't be reliable during a siege."

She looked skyward at the young dragons overhead, then turned her gaze toward King's Landing.

"Besides, His Majesty wants Braavos intact. Dragonfire would burn down the city and hurt its people—that's not helpful for what comes next. If he wanted to conquer Braavos by brute force, he could have done it himself. He wouldn't have gone through the trouble of sending the Miracle Fleet to blockade their harbor."

"Then how are we supposed to take it?" Daenerys asked. She had little experience with warfare. Up until now, under Nymeria's command, she had only needed to order Dothraki charges and have her dragons strike defensive lines with flame. Nymeria had always handled the strategy. Planning an assault on Braavos was beyond her.

Nymeria turned to Barristan Selmy, who stood silently nearby, and asked, "Lord Barristan, do you have any ideas for taking the city?"

Barristan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. Most of my experience is with open-field battles. I've never besieged a city like Braavos. I can't offer you any useful advice."

Daenerys frowned. "But didn't you help take Duskendale and rescue my father?"

Barristan smiled. "Duskendale can't compare to Braavos. Braavos is larger than King's Landing and protected by natural barriers. Capturing it means more than breaching the outer walls—you have to fight your way through the city as well. Just look at what happened to Lord Stannis not long ago: he broke through King's Landing's outer defenses, but failed to anticipate the difficulty of storming the Red Keep. That misstep gave Garlan Tyrell the opening he needed to strike back and defeat him."

Daenerys furrowed her brow. "I saw the battle report Nymeria gave me. It seemed a bit dull. Neither side looked particularly impressive."

Nymeria laughed lightly. "That's where you're mistaken, Dany. Our conquest of the region west of Qarth was an exception. What happened in King's Landing—that was a real war. It tested will, strategy, leadership, and battlefield positioning. Both Lord Stannis and Lord Tyrion had remarkable talent in siege and defense. If either of them were here now, they'd likely know exactly how to solve our Braavos problem."