Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

Before the white-bearded Arstan could respond to the earlier question, Jorah aggressively pressed on:

"Let me ask you again, how does Illyrio plan for the princess's future? Will he contact the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms? Use his wealth to hire mercenaries?"

"Dragons and the Targaryen name might only provoke the warring lords to immediately put aside their disputes and unite against her. Some may harbor hope for the princess, but far more will send a steady stream of assassins. Who can guarantee her safety?"

Jorah's barrage of questions left Groleo bewildered. The old sailor knew nothing of politics; his sole purpose in this journey was to bring Queen Daenerys back to Pentos.

Yet, in theory, he was now serving the queen and counted as one of her followers.

As for Belwas, he paid no attention to the discussion, continuing to eat his skewer. Protecting the young queen's safety was his job, and everything else was irrelevant to him.

The white-bearded knight remained silent for a long time. Finally, he raised his head and looked at Daenerys with unwavering resolve. "I swear on my life and honor to protect Her Highness."

"Ha!" Jorah sighed helplessly. "As the queen's sworn shield, my life has long belonged to her. Her bloodriders would also die for her without hesitation. But against the Seven Kingdoms' rebels, what does that matter?

"Even a mere 300-strong mercenary company could eliminate all threats. Do you think Tywin Lannister, who craps gold bricks, would hesitate to spend a little gold to see it done?"

The white-bearded knight stood frozen, his tall and robust figure stiff with tension, lips tightly pressed together. He finally asked, "What do you suggest?"

"Go to Slaver's Bay and purchase Unsullied soldiers," Jorah declared confidently.

"But a small number of Unsullied won't be enough, and too many won't fit on my ship," Groleo sighed.

"First, go to Slaver's Bay," Jorah replied, withholding the fact that they might have to sell the ship's cargo—or even the ship itself—to afford the Unsullied.

At that moment, Daenerys seemed to make up her mind. She gritted her teeth and said, "I've decided to follow Ser Mormont's advice and go to Slaver's Bay. Are you all coming with me?"

"Wherever you go, I'll go," Belwas raised his head, speaking through a mouthful of food. "That fat man in Pentos only hired me to protect you. Now, I'm yours!"

You greedy eunuch, eating more than my dragons—speaking so ambiguously! I definitely don't want you.

Daenerys smiled and nodded.

"I am willing to serve you," said Groleo.

"I am Belwas's squire," the white-bearded knight added.

Thus, the group reached a basic consensus. Regardless of their loyalty, the three ships were now temporarily under Daenerys's command.

"Shall I order a course change?" Groleo asked.

"Let me think about it," Daenerys said, instructing Groleo to open the nautical chart and mark the fleet's current position.

The ship was a bulky merchant vessel, slower than the great sailing ships of Earth's Age of Exploration, traveling at only about eight knots—approximately 14 kilometers per hour. On a good day, they could cover over 300 kilometers.

However, this depended on the wind. Without wind, the ship would drift idle on the sea; with favorable wind, it could exceed ten knots.

It had been three days since they left New Ghis, and they were now one or two days' sail from the stormy seas surrounding Valyria. This was the perfect point to change course toward Slaver's Bay.

But as her gaze fell on the map's depiction of Valyria's ruins, Daenerys recalled the magnificent magical city she had seen in the House of the Undying.

Pointing lightly at the map where the Valyrian capital was marked, she turned and asked, "Has anyone ever explored the ruins of Valyria?"

"Yes," the white-bearded knight frowned. "Over the past four centuries, countless adventurers have sought treasures there. Even the most ordinary longsword from Valyrian nobles was forged with Valyrian steel.

"Today, even the simplest Valyrian two-handed sword is priceless. It's said that Tywin Lannister once tried to buy the ancestral sword of a destitute noble house—a Valyrian steel sword. But no matter how much Tywin raised the price, the noble refused to sell.

"I don't know how much Tywin offered, but considering the Lannisters' wealth, it must have started at 200,000 gold dragons."

"Ugh, cough, cough!" Jorah Mormont suddenly choked on his own saliva, coughing violently.

After a moment, he rubbed his nose, his face flushed with embarrassment, and muttered awkwardly, "Not... not a destitute noble."

Both the white-bearded knight and Daenerys widened their eyes in surprise, staring at the exiled Lord of Bear Island.

"Was the seller you?" the white-bearded knight murmured.

"I never considered selling Longclaw!" Mormont protested loudly.

"When I sought a loan from Tywin in Lannisport, he kept pestering me to buy the sword. But Longclaw is the ancestral sword of House Mormont. My father wasn't even dead then. If he'd heard about it, he'd probably have come back from the Wall to cut me down."

If your father had passed, would you have sold it?

Everyone shared the same thought, and the white-bearded knight looked at Jorah with growing disdain.

Just as Jorah couldn't stand the white-bearded knight, the latter had little respect for a knight who had lost his honor.

"Does Lynesse Hightower know about this?" the white-bearded knight asked coldly.

Jorah averted his gaze and stammered, trying to change the subject:

"It wasn't just 200,000 gold dragons. Tywin's final offer was an astronomical 850,000 gold dragons. But I refused to sell, even when he threatened to deny me the loan. Later, I turned to the Iron Bank of Braavos instead."

850,000 gold dragons?

That's equivalent to 1.02 billion coins in softer currencies—more than enough for Jorah's spendthrift wife to indulge for a lifetime. (*Lynesse: "Hmph, you underestimate me!")

Daenerys's eyes widened in shock, and her desire to explore Valyria grew even stronger.

A new question arose in her mind. "Ser Jorah, if the Lannisters don't have a Valyrian steel sword, how did your family obtain one?"

Jorah immediately replied, "The Lannisters did have one—a Valyrian steel greatsword named Brightroar. Over a century before Valyria's Doom, the King of the Rock paid nearly two million gold dragons to commission it from the Valyrians."

Damn it, Mormont, stop tormenting me with these figures!

Daenerys's eyes almost sparkled like gold coins.

The white-bearded knight, seemingly guessing her thoughts, interjected with a warning:

"After Valyria's Doom, countless people coveted their treasures and magic, the Lannisters included.

"Three centuries ago, King Tommen II of the Rock assembled a massive fleet—the famed 'Golden Fleet'—to explore the ruins of Valyria. Dozens of warships, thousands of sailors, and Tommen himself vanished in that cursed wasteland.

"Tommen's sword, Brightroar, was lost there as well.

"Even more recently, ten years ago, Tywin Lannister's younger brother, Gerion, embarked on a quest to recover their family sword. He never returned.

"And it's not just the Lannisters. Volantis, the closest city to Valyria and a descendant of the Freehold, has sent expeditions, only for none to return.

"The grim fates of countless others have made it clear—Valyria is a death trap. Your Highness, with your wisdom, you must not act so recklessly."

Daenerys knew her small fleet was no match for Tommen II's legendary armada. Yet, she had her own trump card.

"Arstan, I understand and appreciate your wise counsel." Daenerys gave him a grateful smile before continuing, "But I have dragons. Our fleet need only remain at a safe distance. My dragons can traverse the perilous waters and reach the shattered peninsula."

"This..." The white-bearded knight hesitated, uncertain.

"It might work," Jorah mused, stroking his fuzzy chin. However, he voiced his concern, "But we have no idea what dangers lie within. If something were to happen, your dragons might—"

"Perhaps it's better to wait until the dragons mature, gaining greater strength, before sending them to explore Valyria," he suggested.

It was a sound, cautious, and reasonable proposal—one Daenerys had no grounds to reject.

"Dragons have three heads," she sighed, "but only one dragon rider. When they mature, the white and black dragons will likely become wild. They won't harm me, but—

"Right now, they're still small and won't attack humans. But in just a year or so, I won't be able to watch them constantly. Look at Drogon—he already roams beyond my sight to hunt.

"I need to go to Valyria to uncover the true secrets of dragon-taming—at least to ensure the other two don't harm people."

In the original history, Daenerys's dragons had attacked humans, even devouring children. The white and green dragons had eventually become uncontrollable wild dragons.

"Can you control the black dragon? Drogon seems capable of hunting humans already," the white-bearded knight asked cautiously.

"I can. There's no need to worry about Drogon," Daenerys replied confidently.

Her concern about dragons attacking humans stemmed from an earlier incident. While in Qarth, a two- or three-year-old Dothraki girl had accidentally wandered into her chambers, startling Drogon. The dragon had immediately wanted to kill and eat the child.

That was when Daenerys first realized the terrifying nature of dragons—they were apex predators, and humans were merely another item on their menu.

She had later consulted Jorah.

The knight told her that dragons not only ate humans but had even consumed several Targaryens.

Of course, those instances occurred during Targaryen feuds—one Targaryen feeding another to a dragon. Typically, dragons wouldn't attack Targaryens unless the rider lacked the qualities of a dragonlord. In such cases, they were likely to be eaten.

When the white-bearded knight joined her entourage, Daenerys, recognizing his vast knowledge of Targaryen history, sought his guidance.

The knight explained that dragons with masters wouldn't harm humans. The greatest danger came from wild dragons, which were untamed and unruly.

He shared a horrifying story: During the Dance of the Dragons, the Targaryens had over twenty dragons. However, three of them were untamed wild dragons.

One of these wild dragons, known as Cannibal, was terrifyingly aggressive. It devoured numerous would-be dragon riders (unbonded Targaryens or Velaryons), other dragon carcasses, hatchlings, and even dragon eggs.

Hearing Daenerys's concerns, the usually composed and prudent white-bearded knight fell silent.

"Stay on the outskirts of the ruins. Do not venture inside. That place..." He sighed, waving his hand. "Once you see it, you'll understand. I just hope your black dragon doesn't get hurt."

"I'll be careful," Daenerys assured him, then turned to Jorah. "Why was Longclaw only worth 850,000 gold dragons while Brightroar cost two million? Are Valyrian steel sword prices that volatile?"

(End of Chapter)

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