"That damned Viserys! I'll kill him! I'll kill him!" Robert roared, his eyes blazing as he bellowed toward the outside of the tent.
"Your Grace, calm yourself!"
"I'm going to save Lyanna! My betrothed!"
"Your Grace, please, calm down!"
Robert's broad, rough-built body was like that of a raging bull. A whole group of men threw themselves at him, yet even several strong soldiers together could barely restrain him.
Only after everyone inside the tent was drenched in sweat did Robert finally exhaust himself enough to listen to a word or two from Ned.
"Your Grace, we must suppress the Iron Islands' rebellion as quickly as possible before we can go and save Lyanna."
"No... my Lyanna, my Lyanna—"
Robert shouted with eyes wide open, yet there was a strange, hard-edged calm buried deep within his gaze.
After a long while, he finally quieted down.
He was not a fool.
Earlier, because of Balon's rebellion, he had abandoned plans to attack Dragonstone.
If he now gave up suppressing the rebellion again because of Lyanna, issuing one order today and reversing it tomorrow, the great lords would inevitably grow doubtful and dissatisfied.
Highgarden and Sunspear especially still needed his pressure, needed him to intimidate them through victory.
If his army ran back and forth across opposite ends of Westeros and accomplished nothing, the only thing weakened would be his own authority.
Robert looked at Ned and asked, "You'll go with me to save Lyanna, won't you?"
"Yes. I will," Ned nodded. At the same time, he felt a trace of confusion. Why would Robert even ask such a question? There was no need to ask at all.
Still, the king had listened to his counsel.
In the time that followed, Robert intensified the campaign. At this pace, the rebellion would likely be crushed within half a year.
Viserys did not care much for the raiders of the Iron Islands, but at this moment he still hoped they could hold out a little longer.
Unfortunately, the Narrow Sea and an entire continent lay between them. His reach could go no farther.
He had already neutralized the Baratheon fleet for them. If they could not hold out for another year, that would simply be their own incompetence.
While Robert continued fighting in the Iron Islands, Rhaella's fleet from Dragonstone finally arrived at Pentos.
Silvery-white clouds drifted like schools of fish across the vast blue sky.
The black-sailed warships of Dragonstone entered the harbor of Pentos.
They lay there silently, like great black dragons folding their wings to rest.
From prow to stern, ship after ship packed the harbor, a dark, overwhelming mass that could not help but remind onlookers of the shadow cast by the Black Dread Balerion when he flew across the sky.
After more than two months of transport, Rhaella had brought over twenty thousand people from Dragonstone to Pentos.
Fresh from Viserys's great victory, the merchant governors of Pentos treated the Targaryen migration with utmost seriousness.
They cleared large sections of the harbor specifically for the fleet's use.
More importantly, Arthur had stationed ten thousand troops not far from Pentos.
If the governors harbored any improper thoughts, what awaited them would be a very physical blockade by House Targaryen.
Audro, for his part, was genuinely sincere.
He had prepared the three-headed dragon banners in advance, giving Rhaella and her party the full honors due to royalty.
Not only the Pentoshi nobility came out to greet them. Wealthy commoners and merchants gathered as well, eager to watch.
After all, dragonlord blood was not something one saw every day.
For safety's sake, Viserys himself did not come to Pentos.
Oberyn, however, was already there. Though he had received the news later than Rhaella, he traveled light and fast, reaching Ghoyan Drohe ahead of her.
His presence in Pentos was not only to welcome Elia, but also to discuss marriage ties with Rhaella.
"Mother! It's Uncle! It's Uncle!"
Of the three children from Dragonstone, only little Rhaenys could already run about freely and speak clearly.
The moment she saw Oberyn, she began dancing with excitement.
Elia, stepping off the ship with her daughter, recognized her brother at once.
After being apart for over half a year, brother and sister longed to talk through the night, but the setting forced them to restrain themselves.
Inside the cabin, Rhaella felt the ship slow to a stop. A knock sounded at the door.
"Your Grace, we've arrived at Pentos."
It was Willem's voice. Ser Gerold, commander of the Kingsguard, oversaw the fleet's overall security.
Willem, meanwhile, was the royal family's final line of defense.
Hearing his voice, Rhaella spoke gently to the little Daenerys in her arms.
"We're here. You'll see your brother very soon."
After handing the children over to their wet nurses and attendants, Rhaella and Elia stepped off the ship together.
Gerold had already led soldiers to clear the surrounding crowds.
The Pentoshi governors, quick to read the mood, laid out a red carpet.
"Your Grace," Oberyn said, bowing respectfully to Rhaella.
Though arrogant by nature, his pride was always grounded in strength.
Now the Targaryens could truly control their own fate. Anyone with eyes could see they would return to Westeros sooner or later.
If he continued stirring trouble over inheritance at a time like this, he would only be inviting disaster.
By personally coming to greet Rhaella, he was clearly signaling Dorne's willingness to renew marriage ties.
It was an early gesture of goodwill.
Rhaella did not pay much heed to Oberyn's change in attitude. This time, she had come on Viserys's behalf to lend these ships to Audro.
Audro, though still lacking real authority, was at least the one man in Pentos qualified to speak with her.
"Prince of Pentos Audro welcomes Queen Mother Rhaella," Audro said, bowing deeply.
The merchant governors followed closely behind.
They kissed Rhaella's fingers one by one, forcing warm smiles onto their faces.
Rhaella did not lose herself in such vanity.
She knew all too well that this treatment was earned by her youngest son. Had Viserys failed in Gohor, she would never have received such honors.
From the governors' attitudes alone, she could guess how much effort Viserys had poured into securing their family's future.
Every time Davos returned to Dragonstone to transport supplies and people, Rhaella would keep him behind to ask about Viserys's situation in Gohor.
But under Viserys's orders, Davos always spoke only of good news, never of hardship.
Now Rhaella wished for nothing more than to see her son as soon as possible.
"Your Grace, your arrival brings great honor to Pentos. We have prepared a banquet for you. Please accept our friendship," said one governor who claimed Valyrian blood.
"Yes, Your Grace. Goods from all over the world gather here. You will surely taste delicacies you've never known," added a blond, corpulent merchant as he stepped forward eagerly.
Rhaella instinctively stiffened, mistaking him for a Lannister. A flash of caution passed through her violet eyes.
Then she remembered who he was.
Clement and Oberyn had both warned her specifically to beware of the blond, fat merchant Illyrio.
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