Even though Baela now carried a serious grudge against him, Logar's little scare tactic had clearly done the trick. The fiery young princess had behaved herself for the rest of the voyage and caused no further trouble.
Logar found her sudden good behavior both surprising and amusing. Girls her age really are easy to frighten, he thought with a private smirk, conveniently forgetting he was only two years older than her.
The days slipped by in that uneasy calm, and before anyone realized it the fleet had drawn close to Driftmark.
From a distance the Velaryon island rose like a piece of jade floating on the Narrow Sea. White stone houses climbed the hills in tidy layers along the coastline. Dozens of warships and merchant vessels flying the silver seahorse banner crowded the harbors, their masts forming a swaying forest. The sea wind carried the sharp salt tang of the waves mixed with the clean scent of fresh-cut ship timber.
The moment Driftmark appeared on the horizon, the surviving merchant crews let out a collective sigh of relief.
Even though Logar had promised from the beginning to escort them home safely, his pack of cutthroats had kept every man on edge the entire journey. No one had dared step out of line.
Now that home was finally in sight, quiet cheers rippled through them—though they still kept their voices low, all too aware they were still under Logar's control.
Logar understood their relief perfectly. A dark flicker of amusement crossed his mind: I wonder what faces they'd make if they ever learned this whole "disaster" was something I arranged myself?
Of course, he had zero intention of confessing.
He summoned the merchant factor and said, "I'll return every man, ship, and scrap of cargo to Driftmark intact. Consider it my gift to Lord Corlys. All I ask is that you deliver this letter to him."
One of his men immediately handed over the sealed letter they had prepared earlier.
"Thank you, my lord, for escorting us the whole way!"
The factor nodded so vigorously he looked like an eager lapdog. "I will personally report your bravery and generosity to Lord Corlys!"
Seven hells, the man had watched Logar carve through pirates with his own eyes. Even now the memory made his knees weak—he was terrified of saying the wrong thing and ending up fish food.
"Very well. You may go. I won't see you off."
Figures were already moving along the docks of Driftmark. Corlys's men patrolled the shore. Logar said nothing more and waved for the three merchant ships to proceed.
Baela finally appeared on deck. As she prepared to disembark she shot Logar one last vicious glare and never uttered a single word.
Logar gave a helpless smile. The girl really knew how to hold a grudge. He wondered whether she would badmouth him to the Sea Snake.
Either way, there was nothing he could do now but wait and see. He ordered the fleet to anchor in the designated section of the bay and wait for Driftmark's harbor officials to register them. He also instructed Femon and the others to keep the men on a tight leash—no trouble allowed.
"Captain!"
The moment Logar stepped onto Driftmark's stone pier, shipwright Kendel Waters and several of his men hurried forward and bowed deeply. They had been waiting here for some time.
"Good work," Logar nodded.
Truth was, without Kendel—the Driftmark-born shipwright—feeding him intelligence and carrying messages, he never could have staged this whole performance so cleanly.
And perhaps because they were both bastards, Logar felt a rare warmth toward the man. He offered a few words of praise, then asked, "Tell me—what reward do you want? Gold? Freedom? Whatever it is, it's yours."
Kendel's answer caught him completely off guard.
The shipwright suddenly dropped to one knee before Logar, eyes shining with tears. "Captain… my whole family was slaughtered by the Dornish. I myself was taken as a slave. It was you who freed me from that cage and gave me back my life!"
"I only wish to follow you for the rest of my days and repay your mercy with unwavering loyalty!"
Logar paused, genuinely moved.
Since crossing into this world he had only dealt with pirates in a brutal realm of plunder and betrayal. Men like Kendel—who remembered kindness and honored debts—were vanishingly rare.
He pushed the feeling down, placed a hand on the man's shoulder, and said firmly, "Good. As long as you don't betray me, I will never betray you."
After chatting a little longer with Kendel and the others who had arrived early, Logar learned a crucial detail: the Sea Snake and his family had only recently returned to High Tide after some disagreement with Queen Rhaenyra on Dragonstone. He filed that information away carefully.
...
At the same time, inside the Seahorse Hall on Driftmark, Lord Corlys Velaryon sat upon the Driftwood Throne, discussing recent affairs with his advisors.
The hall was vast and solemn. Portraits of past Velaryon seafarers and ancient sea charts hung along the walls. The Driftwood Throne itself had been carved from the wreckage of a single great ship, its armrests shaped like coiling seahorses. Sunlight poured through tall stained-glass windows, casting somber shadows across the floor—much like the heavy mood weighing on the Sea Snake himself.
The greatest burden on his heart was the recent death of his beloved wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen—the Queen Who Never Was. She had been ambushed by the Greens while supporting Rook's Rest, and even her dragon, the Red Queen Meleys, had fallen with her.
The loss had caused Corlys to quarrel fiercely with Queen Rhaenyra. In his grief and anger he had withdrawn to Driftmark.
Rhaenys's death had triggered a chain reaction. One granddaughter, Rhaena, remained on Dragonstone to stay with Rhaenyra, but the other—Baela—had been consumed by grief over her grandmother's death. In a fit of rebellion she had secretly boarded one of her grandfather's merchant ships and sailed off. Since then there had been no word from her.
The Blacks' morale had plummeted after losing both Rhaenys and a dragon. Queen Rhaenyra, wounded in body and spirit, had grown increasingly volatile. She had even handed day-to-day management of Dragonstone to her eldest son, Jacaerys Velaryon, leaving the future of the Black cause more uncertain than ever.
And as if that weren't enough, pirate activity in the Stepstones had flared up again. The Dornish, the Triarchy, and every other power were swarming back. The Velaryon family's vital trade routes were under savage attack. His nephew Malentin had just finished reporting every fresh headache, leaving the Lord of the Tides exhausted and overwhelmed.
With so many fires burning at once, he had no time left to properly deal with Baela's reckless disappearance.
Just as Corlys sat brooding, a servant burst in with urgent news: the missing merchant ships had returned—and Princess Baela was with them!
It was one of the few pieces of good news he had received in weeks, and it lifted his spirits at once.
The merchant factor and Baela soon entered the Seahorse Hall.
Before Corlys could even begin scolding his granddaughter for her willfulness, Baela lifted her skirts and rushed forward, throwing herself into his arms and bursting into loud sobs. "Grandfather…!"
"What happened?" Corlys frowned deeply, holding her close.
His signature Valyrian silver hair had begun to show streaks of gray with age.
Baela, still smarting from the humiliation she had suffered at Logar's hands and knowing she was in the wrong for sneaking away, refused to explain. She simply kept crying.
With a helpless sigh Corlys looked over at the merchant factor.
"My lord, here is what happened…"
Unaware of Baela's personal grievances, the factor recounted the full story: how their ships had been attacked by pirates, and how Logar and his men had arrived just in time to heroically drive them off and rescue everyone.
When he finished, he respectfully presented Logar's handwritten letter with both hands to the frowning Lord Corlys Velaryon.
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