Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Fire and Blood

Chapter Forty-Five~ Fire and Blood

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A lookout had ridden to Lord Darklyn in the early hours of the morning and warned him of the army that marched toward his estate.

In a final attempt at survival he plead with the king to spare his life, take his army and his lands.

But Aegon no longer cared for second chances. He had a thirst for war, and he had hounds around him biting away in hunt for revenge against the opposing side.

It was Aemond who stood on the platform with an axe, His hood covered his face, but he was watching intently as the Lord of Duskendale was dragged toward him. He had volunteered to be the Kings justice for today, eager to have the rusty smell of spilled blood fill his nostrils and the sight of sprayed crimson stain his skin.

The axe was blunt just as Aegon had ordered, and when it made contact with the neck of Darklyn it was not a clean and quick death, as was the tradition of Lords of the realm. It hit the flesh like a wooden mallet against meat. Aemond had to swing twice for the skin to break. The blood seeped from the wound, spraying more as the Prince sawed through the bone.

Aemond felt the relief escape through his fingertips, finally a death to subdue this hunger he felt coiling inside of him.

"Let this be a warning for those who turn against King Aegon!" Cole shouted from atop his horse.

Aegon and Rhaella waited behind the new Hand, both of their identities being hidden by cloaks of disguise.
"His household Aegon." Rhaella muttered. "They must pledge to you, or they too will share the fate of their Lord."

Aegon cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Criston Cole. "Bring them all forward." The King muttered to Cole.

"My King?" Criston sounded unsure.

"Bring them forward Cole." Rhaella repeated her brothers words.

Cole nodded to one of the soldiers, leading him to shove the rest of Lord Darklyn's family forward. "You!" Cole pointed his sword at the Lady of the house. "Where do your loyalties lie, with the traitor," He pointed to the head that had been placed on a spike. "Or with the King?"

The woman whimpered at the sight of her dead husband. "Please." She sobbed, though there were no please to be listened to on that day.

"I will not ask again lady." Criston shouted.

"His grace." The woman wept. "I pledge loyalty to King Aegon!" She cried, holding onto her children.

"And the rest of you?!" Criston shouted to the servants, soldiers and guards. "What will you choose?"

One of the men, dressed in armor unsheathed his sword. "My pledge was to my Lord and if it cost me my head then so be it." The man dropped his sword at the foot of the hands horse.
A murmur of agreement traveled between some of the soldiers and more blades were dropped.

Cole turned to look at Aegon, whose hood still covered him from the eye of the public. Aegon gave a single nod, leading Cole to shout to his Guard. "Take them to the justice."

One by one the men and women who did not bend their knee lost their heads to a dull blade. The prince enjoyed the murder, letting the blood soak his hands as he lifted the traitors head into the air, showing them to the king, it dripped down onto the platform, stained his cloak and his boots and the metallic smell of crimson carried through to his brain.