The Game of Cyvasse

King's Landing

The moon hung high in the night sky as the ships sailed through the dark waters of the Bay of Crabs, guided by the faint light of the distant shore. Evening stormy wind was hitting the ships. Sailors were walking on all sides, like ants performing tasks, trying to calm the ship and prevent a collision with another ship or with rocky cliffs. Prevailing darkness enveloped everything, taking away the moonlight.



Finally at home, Aegon thought, looking at the vague patterns of the coast. This Land was his, and yet, he felt nothing special, no new and overwhelming excitement. Before him, again, could be the shores of Disputed Lands, where he had landed several times. He wondered, did his namesake and predecessor Aegon feel the same, when he landed on the other side of the peninsula, at the mouth of Blackwater into the sea. But Aegon, First of his name had dragons. This Aegon doesn't, he taught.

Wind lifted the hood from his cloak. "It's time," Jon said behind him, "The boat is ready."

Hundreds of boats set off for the ships. Duck squirmed and sleepily grumbled, combing his short brown beard, "One thing to tell you, friend. In Reach it is not, o brother, so fucking cold." He paused to better grab the oars, then finished, "Gods, nor gloomy. Where did the moon disappear." The knight was right, the moon had disappeared under the clouds and the already dark night had become even darker.

Their boat slid smoothly down the sandy shore. Aegon stood frozen, as if his legs had been cut off. He couldn't move. Why now? He shouldn't have cared, Westeros was just a new task, and yet, a burden loomed over him. Others didn't notice his ordeal. Except Jon, Jon notices everything. The old griffin gently put his hand on Aegon's shoulder and Aegon instinctively jumped out of the boat.

Nothing spectacular happened, no holy providence, the Warrior did not appear in the sky to light their way. Only the exiled prince stood on the shore, the shore of the land that belonged to him. Belonged was a word Aegon did not know. Most of his gold he earned with a sword in his hands. A roof over his head, luxury and comfort, different kinds of lessons, he paid Illyrio with blood that flowed through his veins or with a future crown. The fat man was always cheerful, by his words the greatest Targaryen loyalist, but Aegon saw through the curtains of other people's desires.

The shore was filled with people, officers were shouting commands, hurrying to form companies and cohorts as soon as possible. Sailors were bringing boates back to the water. Ten thousand men had to disembark. Larger ships were carrying wagons with supplies. The men of the Golden Company were quickly unloading the heavy cargo and, as always showing, they had a reputation for a reason. Both the cargo and the people were arriving on the shore, all in good order. Homeless Harry was as good at logistics as he was bad on the battlefield. By dawn, all the troops would be on the shore, except for the cavalry. Otreyes and his two cohorts of cavalry would wait for the morning. Horses do not swim well in the dark, especially if they all have to go to the same point.



The boots of thousands of soldiers marched through the fishing village. The Targaryen red three-headed dragon on a black field adorned the spears. Harry was unsure about that, "Golden banners are tradition," he complained to Illyrio. Magister did not answer him, instead he opened the chest with gold and opened the curtains that hid the maids, in scanty costumes. If Toyne were alive, he would never have allow changing the banners. Yet again, if Toyne were alive, Aegon would be more confident in the success of the campaign. Luckily, Jon took over Harry's deputy position, which Harry didn't object to too much, except for false indignation that it should have been Balaq, commander of archers. As if Balaq was interested in the position at all.

"As soon as we find firmer ground, we will make a camp," Harry said musically, as he proudly watched the men in golden armor march. Jon looked at him grimly, Aegon thought that every moment with Harry was irritating to Jon. Three unknown figures approached the hill where Aegon stood with Jon and Harry. Thunderex led two fishermen. They looked depressed and scared, their eyes directed to the ground. "This one on the left said he was the chieftain of the village."

With a half-shaky voice, an old man with a rare beard and yellow teeth asked Jon, "Are you men of Lord Stannis?" Of the three of them, Jon looked most like a leader, Aegon thought.

Frowning, Jon snapped at him, "Well did you see the banners?" He pointed his hand at a snake, an unsteady wavy column of soldiers.

The other fisherman seemed equally irritated by his leader's answer. "These are dragons," said the other man, with thin eyebrows and a green coat, looking at Aegon, looking at his short silvery hair and purple eyes.



"Dragons" exclaimed the chieftain, gaping at the marching soldiers. The old man probably wondered if he was dreaming.

Fisherman in the green coat continued, paying no attention to the astonished old man, now looking at Jon again, "I fought at the Trident, under Lord Brune, when I came home, the stags took my boat."

Jon Connington's straight eyes looked at the fisherman. "Many lost a lot then," Jon said calmly, "no one is alone in that."

Harry Strickland was not too interested in the past. "No one is allowed to leave the village.", he said, "The roads west are forbidden. If you want to sell or give something, you can come to me." The emphasis was on giving. Harry always emphasized giving. The former paymaster's storage's were filled with gifts from tribal leaders and small graph chiefs. Changing ways of the captains of the Golden Company seemed impossible, but it was necessary. It will be impossible task to win the support of westerosy lords, if Harry and Balaq demand tribute at every corner.

"Why did you think we were Stannis's men," Jon asked the elder, but directing question to the fisherman in the green coat.

"...because his ships patrol around the coast. Not only sails, with stags, but also pirates from Lys, We don't even go over Gullet anymore.", said Fishermen.

The latest reports from Varys say that Staninis has barricaded himself on Dragonstone. As Master of ships, he sailed with most of the royal fleet from King's Landing. King Robert was not touched by that at all. Varys always emphasized how much the usurper neglects his duties, not coming to the Small Council meetings. Convinced that Stannis found out the truth that led the former Hand of the King to the grave, both of them, Varys believes that Stannis went to get away, beliving his next.

If the fishermen's claims are true, Aegon knew, it only means that Stannis also wants the throne. More kings, easier the way ahead of him. With a disciplined and skilled army like Golden company and with Dornish spears, he could destroy any enemy individually.

And with Dotrakhi he than remembered, the dowry that Daenerys was supposed to bring. In the decorated gardens of the magister's villa, Jon was furious at Iliryo for that decision. "Forty thousand horsemen savages are no different from forty thousand beasts released on the seven kingdoms", he said angrily. And he was right, khal Drogo would behave like any khal. Dothraki are not allies, they do not follow previously agreed agreements.

They would conquer the kingdom for Aegon and then devastate the kingdom before his eyes. Jon argued that it was better to try to marry Daenerys to a son of the great house. Marriages and blood, Aegon thought, so different from greed and gold in the Nine free cities. Daenerys could not be saved. The great Khal had already taken her away. Asking for return of the gift was unthinkable.

Aegon had never met his kin, Jon later told him, that Aegon was as dead to them as he was to the rest of the world.

He looked east, where the sun was rising over 300 Braavosi and Pentoshi ships.

Today he will rise too.