They chose a northeast course, aiming directly for Braavos, the most powerful Free City across The Narrow Sea, and the one most likely to offer some form of "neutral" sanctuary.
Less than two days after their departure, a large combined fleet from the iron throne appeared in the waters off Dragonstone. Warships flying the Red Grape Banner of The Arbor, as well as a small number of rugged warships from White Harbor in the North, were among them.
The commander of The Arbor fleet, Lord Redwyne, gazed from afar at the sea, still recovering from the storm, and at the empty port and the obviously reinforced but sparsely garrisoned castle on Dragonstone. He then issued orders for "cautious reconnaissance and blockade of the sea." He highly approved of the advice from his sister, Olenna, the Queen of Thorns, who was far away in Highgarden: to show loyalty, but not to shed too much blood for the Baratheon family. If the Targaryens on the island had already fled, it would be perfect for him.
The White Harbor fleet from the North was even more perfunctory. Leading the team was Ser Willis Manderly, the eldest son of Lord Manderly, who didn't even let his warships get too close. He had come on the orders of Eddard Stark, but more to observe and state his position than to truly participate in the encirclement and suppression. The Stark family already had reservations about massacring women, children, and the elderly, so he was happy to take it easy.
The two fleets patrolled the nearby waters for several days, then symbolically sent a detachment ashore, only to find that Dragonstone was left with only a few hundred old, weak, and disabled soldiers who offered no resistance when they landed. It turned out they had merely been feigning and delaying. Immediately afterwards, the main force landed and began to take over Dragonstone, then "regretfully" reported back to Kings Landing: the Targaryen remnants had escaped during the storm, their whereabouts unknown, and Dragonstone had been recovered.
When the news reached Kings Landing, Robert Baratheon was furious on the iron throne, his roars almost tearing off the roof of the hall. "Useless, a bunch of useless people! Couldn't stop a storm, couldn't even catch a few broken ships?" He wished he could personally lead the fleet to pursue the Targaryen remnants to the ends of the earth.
But the Small Council suppressed his impulse. The newly appointed hand of the king, Lord Jon Arryn, offered an irrefutable rebuttal: "Your Grace, the Seven Kingdoms have just endured war and urgently need rest and recuperation. The nobles of The Reach have just surrendered and still need to be appeased. The Martell family of Dorne is still demanding the surrender of the 'murderers' for the death of Princess Elia, and their attitude is firm. Moreover, the royal treasury is empty, and envoys from the Iron Bank are still waiting outside The Red Keep for an audience. Furthermore, Your Grace's wedding is imminent, and the alliance with the Westerlands is crucial and must not be jeopardized."
At the mention of marriage, Robert's face grew even darker, but he finally sat back on the throne and took a large gulp of wine. He hated these compromises but had to accept them.
To punish Stannis, who had suffered heavy losses in the storm and retreated in disarray, and to place the rich Storms End in the hands of someone he trusted, Robert made a decision that caused much private discussion among the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, yet no one opposed it: he promoted his young but favored third brother, Renly Baratheon, to Lord of Storms End, while "exiling" Stannis to the remote Dragonstone. An isolated island that had just been plundered, leaving only a black stone castle. The title of Dragonstone was also demoted to Lord, rather than the previous "Prince" which symbolized direct royal lineage.
When Stannis received this decree, sealed with the crowned stag, the muscles on his face did not move, but his tightly pressed lips grew paler, and the chill in his eyes deepened. His gaze lingered on the words "Lord of Dragonstone" for a long time; he believed this was Robert reminding him of his place.
Three weeks of sailing across The Narrow Sea gradually dispersed the scent of storm and death. When the world-renowned Titan of Braavos statue emerged from the sea mist, Viserys knew they had entered Braavosi waters.
The statue's feet rested on two rocky fortresses, its lower body covered in dark seaweed and barnacles, as if it had grown from the seabed. As the fleet passed through the waterway beneath its legs, everyone felt a suffocating pressure. The giant's hollow stone eyes looked down, and its raised stone sword seemed ready to strike at any moment.
At the entrance to the waterway, three slender Braavosi navy ships blocked their path. Their hulls were painted deep blue and silver, and a statue of the "Lady of Liberty" stood at their prows.
"State your identity, purpose, and cargo," an officer shouted from the bow.
Ser Willem Darry was clearly experienced; he stepped forward and replied, "We are a Targaryen Family fleet, from Dragonstone, seeking Braavosi sanctuary and trade. The ship carries personnel, personal belongings, and goods for trade."
The officer first whispered a few words to the person beside him, then sized up those on board who were clearly dressed as warriors. Finally, he waved his hand and replied, "Braavos is open to all law-abiding individuals. Follow the pilot boat and dock at berths seven to twelve in the West District of the Purple Harbor. Armed personnel are not permitted to enter the city without permission; this is an iron law of Braavos."
Passing through the Titan's Gate, Braavos's harbor came into full view.
The prosperity of this harbor even surpassed Kings Landing, as merchant ships from all over the world came here to trade. Hundreds of vessels of all sizes crowded the waterways, and the air was mixed with the stench of the fish market, the scent of spices wafting from merchant ships, and some indescribable smells.
The dock area was bustling with people. Sailors, merchants, porters, prostitutes, thieves... all sorts of people were mixed together. Viserys saw a dark-skinned merchant from the Summer Isles selling feather cloaks, next to a Pentoshi hawking "never-rusting" daggers. Further away, a team of Unsullied-like guards were escorting several heavy chests, their steps uniform and their faces expressionless.
They disembarked at the designated spot. As their feet touched the solid dock, many soldiers visibly relaxed; three weeks of bumpy travel had finally ended. However, Viserys knew that the real tests were just beginning.
Before long, a 隊of guards in grey-green uniforms arrived at the dock. The leader was a lean Braavosi official, who introduced himself as the "Assistant Port Master."
"Prince Viserys," he bowed slightly, his manners impeccable, "His Sealordship has learned of your arrival and invites you to be his guest at The Sealords Manse. You may bring a small number of retainers with you."
So Viserys, accompanied by Ser Arthur, Ser Alliser, and a team of trusted guards, followed the official to visit the city's master. He left Ser Jon to protect the women on board and instructed Ser Willem to find a suitable plot of land outside the city to settle everyone, as they would be establishing roots there.
After walking with the official for a while, Viserys saw The Sealords Manse. The Sealords Manse was not a palace, but a huge flat-bottomed ship, permanently moored in the circular canal in front of the Temple of the Moonsingers. Its hull was made of dark purple cedar, carved with patterns of waves and mysterious creatures.
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