I sat before the Painted Table, watching the pieces move in real time.
A week had not changed much, even as the Lords of the Narrow Sea sailed to Dragonstone and swore their oaths one after the next.
Once the event was concluded and a feast was done, it was time we got to work.
First was a meeting with my Inner Circle... to determine our next steps.
My eyes roamed through the map of Westeros, landing on the North.
If Robert called the Banners, the North had not answered yet.
Well, neither had the Reach, nor even Westerlands, but there were some movements in the West at least, south moving to the Gold Road.
Knowing Tywin, the fucker was planning to burn through the Fields of Reach the moment they switched... not that the Queen of Thorns was likely to do so.
North was what concerned me.
I wanted to bank on their neutrality, or the slow mobilization at the least, but I did not expect that fact to last long.
Eddard Stark was anything if not inconveniently dutiful.
I started walking around the map, placing an iron coin on top of Casterly Rock, one on Oldtown, another on a narrow passage along Prince's Pass between Reach and Dorne.
A coin landed on an island in a lake in Riverlands... God's Eye.
Places of interest that I wanted access to.
Places of magic and power that my ravens were already flying to, creating anchors that I can use to Teleport to.
Connington, on the other hand, put the pieces that were of relevance for the war in the near future in gold coin, reminding me of reality like a dutiful hand he was. 'Too much trauma,' I mentally corrected, knowing that he dreamed of burning cities to the sound of bells.
"The Narrow Sea lords are certainly... colorful," Daenerys said simply, though her eyes showed she wanted to call them 'a bunch of prompt up peacocks'.
"They are certainly a motley bunch, I agree. Not exactly the best hand, huh?" I asked out loud. "Is it wrong to think of trading the entire lot for a Seasnake or Oakenfist?"
"This is the hand you are dealt, your grace," said Marwyn simply, "And now we are to make the best of it. Mayhaps another Seasnake or Oakenfist will come out of them."
"Daenerys, if you would," I said, leaning back on my throne.
"Claw Isle, House Celtigar, Lord Ardrian Celtigar," she said, introducing each piece on the board. "Holds domain over Crackclaw Point."
"Celtigar's nephew lost a hand to Wat's mace during the trial," said Ser Richard. "He is disowned in all but name and has chosen to take the Black."
"Ardrian is loyal to the dragons," Jon spoke simply. "He held together those left loyal and holds wealth and manpower."
"He is good with coin from the books he brought," Marwyn stated, being a maester and the one with the most up-to-date knowledge of Westeros.
"But the men he brings are limited. Crackclaw Men are not his to call on... they chafe under Celtigar and are ruled directly by King's Landing. They haven't paid taxes to Robert at any time, but they lack the Targaryen Name to rally behind until now."
"So the Clawmen butcher any who comes to take their coin," I noted, "either fickle allies or opportunists, they will require a more personal touch when I have the time. Yet Lord Ardrian has proven himself loyal. Make an argument against making him Master of Coin?"
"Do you wish us to challenge the idea, your grace?" asked Jon, not used to my approach.
"He is a Westerosi Lord," Belle piped in, sauntering in with a feline grace that had my eyes glued to her swaying hips. "They tend to look down on matters of coin. Tycho is a better candidate."
"The King's Purse and the Royal matters of economics are two things, my dear," I responded as my Paramour ignored the empty seat that moved on its own in favor of my lap.
Bellegere was not as interested in the politics, even as she was now working in an unofficial capacity as the Mistress of Whisperers and handling the higher-level management of the brothels and taverns that we had set up to keep the pulse of the people of Dragonstone. The fact that she was working to establish half a dozen bards for propaganda made her invaluable.
I met her eyes, tilting my head in question, as my hand rested on the curve of her hips.
'Later,' she mouthed, passing me a letter from the Sealord.
"Bartimos Celtigar was the Master of Coin for the Blacks. He was known only to raise taxes," said Marwyn, ignoring the byplay. "Many blame the riots that led to Princess Rhaenyra losing her grasp on the throne on his policies."
"Yes, no one likes high taxes. Have Nessa keep an eye on the books; she has done well as my Steward until now, and learned a lot of tricks from the Iron Bank. Have him start re-draw the trade routes for our benefit," I simply said. "If he is not corrupt and likely to beggar the smallfolk with taxes, he will do for now. His loyalty is less of an issue."
"Yes, your grace," said Jon Connington simply.
"Driftmark, House Velaryon, Lord Monford Velaryon," said Dany with a self-satisfied smile.
"Barely twenty, newly wed, with no heir but for his bastard brother Aurane Waters, a lad of four and ten," said Marwyn, "Been the lord since Lord Lucerys had fallen with the Royal Fleet."
"Now, there was an ambitious cunt, tried to have me betrothed to his niece before the storm took him with the fleet," I sighed, leaning back, "May he rest in the halls of his Merling King," I muttered to the nod of everyone.
A silence passed.
"Monford is ambitious and a bit rash, but Lady Cella is smart where it matters and likely to keep him in line. He is, however, loyal to us at the moment," I said after a bit of thought.
"Master of Ships is the normal position for House Velaryon. He sounds experienced enough," suggested Jon Connington. "Would be better if we had ships," he added.
"About that..." I said with a grin. "We have a thirty-piece Fleet complete, with another hundred on the way," I said, holding the letter.
"Braavos," asked Dany.
"I sent a decent chunk of Illyrio's coin with Syrio with the order for a strong fleet," I said simply, "Which did leave us slightly broke, but it was worth it. We will make back the gold in time, once we get the Narrow Sea under our chokehold."
"The Stepstones," said Marwyn simply, getting a nod. "I will draw up the numbers. If the contraption can extend that far, it changes this war."
"His brother is a bastard, but would do as your squire," suggested Ser Richard.
"And a hostage if he tries to run off with the ships," said Jon Connington. "Who is next?"
"Sweetport Sound, House Sunglass," said Dany when the next piece came in, "Lord Guncer Sunglass. Valyrian House."
"A religious nutjob, if there was ever one," I said, having met the man preaching the Seven. It took Lord Guncer and Ser Bonifer fifteen minutes to descend into an ever-escalating dick measuring contest on who was the most faithful. "But a useful one who sang my praises, but he did not step up for the trial," I said, pointing at the largest island in the Bay.
"Squire for one of his sons," suggested Dany.
"You are catching on," I said with a grin.
The next castle was pointed.
"Rook's Rest, House Staunton," said Dany. "Closest house on the mainland."
"Lord Symond Staunton remains the Lord since before Robert," explained Marwyn. "Though gelding his heir with Blackfyre might have soured the relations."
"Yes, consider Ser Bonifer sufficiently told of for his passionate conduct," I said, not really wanting to make it worse.
"Symond was your father's former Master of Laws; he had whispered treasons of Rhaegar to the ear of Aerys and bent the knee when his schemes failed," Jon summarized.
"Fickle friend, but one whose ambitions can be of use. Ser Brynden fought by my side, and I learned he did not share a mother with Simon. He will do better as lord. Send Simon to take the Black," I said simply, "And command Lord Symond pull his smallfolk to his castle and prepare for a potential siege."
"He has two nephews," said Jon simply. "They are young and can be taken as squire as well."
"I will need a squire as well, your grace," said Ser Richard, nodding at the Griffin Knight. "Mayhaps, they shall be invited to test their mettle."
"Do so," I said, understanding that it was both another opportunity to get more hostages without being overt about it and a subtle insult as the position was not as prestigious as being a King's Squire. "Next."
"Sharp Point, House Bar Emmon, Duram Bar Emmon," said Dany, scrunching her face. "That one was not in your books, Maester."
"Because he is just a lad of seven, as his father fell during Robert's Rebellion," Marwyn supplied. "He was in the wedding."
"Who is his mother?" I asked, knowing that she would influence the boy more than others.
"Niece of Lord Guncer," said Richard, "I remember the wedding. Religious as her uncle."
"Might I suggest taking the boy as a cupbearer, and later as a squire?" suggested Marwyn, "It would ensure the safety of the House's future and allow you to have influence on the boy."
"Reasonable suggestion," I said, as Jon drew an imaginary line from Rook's Rest to Driftmark down to Sharp Point.
"Stonedance, House Massey, Ser Justin Massey, formally bent the knee after the Trial of the Seven. He is currently our guest. Former lordly house, reduced by Robert down to a Knightly House when Stone Dance was stripped of its lands," explained Dany.
"He was also the squire of Robert," added Marwyn, "just so we all are aware."
"Anyone else?" I asked.
"There are various other lesser houses, but we will see who comes seeking to bend the knee soon enough. That leaves two men... Ser Bonnifer Hasty," said Ser Richard.
"Dany can use a Sworn Sword," I said simply, causing my sister to turn and look at me in shock. "Ser Bonnifer once crowned mother as his Queen of Love and Beauty," I explained. 'Use him well and gain his loyalty,' went unspoken.
"And Lothor Brune," asked Ser Richard.
"Richard, knight him," I said, "Offer him a place in the household if he does not wish to forsake his future for a white cloak."
"I shall do so," said Ser Richard.
"That leaves one thing," I said, turning to the two guards waiting by the door.
"Wat and Wat, step forward," I said simply. "Both of you. This was a long time coming."
"Your grace?" asked the two at once.
"My brother knighted Gregor Clagane," I said simply, "who paid it back by murdering his children and raping his wife. I have made a promise to myself not to do this to anyone... but you have both proven yourselves in deeds. Now, kneel."
I drew Blackfyre.
"Do you stand witness?" I asked Jon and Richard.
"We shall stand witness," the two said at once.
Wat the Eyes was not overly skilled in melee, but he saw things clearer than anyone else, and a bow without peer. Wat the Brains, on the other hand, was a tricky fighter that pushed you where you least expected.
Yet it was not skill or names that made them worthy, but their loyalty.
I placed Blackfyre on each of their shoulders, letting the spellsteel bite and leave a mark, not just upon their flesh but on their souls as well, marking them with the duties of a knight.
In turn, the two spoke the Kingsguard vows.
"Rise, Ser Wat the Allseeing and Ser Wat the Allknowing, Knights of the Kingsguard," I said.
---
Once the meeting was concluded, the next person I visited was Yohn Royce, who seemed strangely calm for a man who was technically a hostage.
Granted, he was currently located not in a dungeon but given his own quarters to stay in, but that was for politeness' sake, as a glass raven stood by the windowsill.
"Lord Royce," I said.
"Targaryen," he responded. His eyes had widened at how I casually deconstructed their family's greatest secret. "Came to bring me to be burned by Wildfire."
"The terms of your release are simple," I said, "An oath to never rise against me, made in blood, and a son to be given as squire."
"Do you think I would give my son as a hostage to you?" asked Royce, sounding not so pleased.
"I have no need of a hostage from you, my lord," I said.
Hostages worked only so long as their life was valued by the other side after all. "It is clear that hostages did not work on House Royce before, as Kyle Royce has shown," I said simply, "or Elbert Arryn or Jeffory Mallister, but we both know it did not matter when you chose to raise your banners for Robert. I will let the boy watch as I burn the rest of you lot, root and stem, should you break your oaths. I am sure he will not be quite as rushed to fight back against me."
Jaehaerys had the right of it after all. Dragons did not need hostages when they could fly in and burn it all down.
"Your nephew, Kyle, did not deserve it," I said simply, plucking the knowledge from his mind. "I remember that day, you know... I remember Stark's cry... 'Rhaegar come out and die, ' and yet it is my father who is remembered as mad. Would it have mattered if he had Ser Barristan Selmy cut down Lord Stark before hanging the son?" I asked, "Alas, it matters not."
"We remember," Royce said simply, his anger almost palpable.
"Do you?" I asked.
A flick of my wand had my Pensieve float, causing Bronze Yohn to freeze.
"I find that I sometimes find myself with too many thoughts in my head," I said, placing my wand to my temple and pulling a strand of memory. "This is something that helps... I built it based on the Magic of the Weirwood."
The memory fell into the potion as the image formed.
Ser Waymar, facing the White Walkers.
Bronze Yohn simply watched.
He did not speak.
"I am the shield that guards the realms of men," I repeated after that. "What does that make you?"
I left the old man to think after that, the bowl of memories following in my wake.
---
I entered Marwyn's workshop.
The new Acolytes have taken well to their new overlord, it would seem. They were stacking books, writing tomes, and there were a few pots brewing alchemical reagents.
And not a single pot of wildfire.
This was magic was all about.
"Any accidents?" I asked, to which Marwyn pointed at the molten desk.
There was a hole going rather deep, but we were using the dungeons for potions for a reason.
"Reagent interaction, one of the idiots tried to make Maiden's Tears with magic, and melted through the gold cup he was using. Threw Weirwood Ash into it, so it is good."
"Melted through the gold cup..." I repeated. There were a few acids that could eat through gold. "Explain what Maiden's Tears are," I said instead.
Aqua Regia, I thought after a lengthy explanation. Maiden's Tears was Aqua Regia, an acid that could eat through even gold.
The thought of mixing that with Basilisk Venom brought a shiver down my spine... but I would make time for it later.
I had to prioritize thought.
"What of the pylons? Marwyn, have the calculations been done?" I asked as Marwyn unfurled a map.
"Yes, your grace. The Alchemist's acolytes are trained well enough for their profession, and some are good with numbers. The 'calculations' you provided allowed us to predict locations for the new pylons to spread," he said simply, unfurling a map over the painted table of the Gullet. "I had to get some of the fisher folk to point out the known location of a few of the Spears of the Merling King. They are the jagged rock formations spread across the Bay, likely from Volcanic Activity, but they have strong currents and would work for the foundation for any Pylons should range become an issue. The Gullet requires ten pylons to allow full blockade, twice that if we wish spares."
I nodded. "Are these land pylons?"
"The plan is to spread them through the Crackclaw starting from Rook's Rest, create a set of watch towers through the mountain tops, with a direct line of sight to main roads. A few men might make it through, but it would stop an army if needed. From there, we can potentially expand North to the Bay of Crabs or up the Trident from Saltpans," he said simply.
"And secure the primary salt source of Westeros for Winter, potentially put them in a chokehold. What about expansion southward?" I asked, pointing at the pylon locations in that direction.
"Once we have Massey's hook, we can theoretically make it all the way down to Tarth, following the coast," said Marwyn simply. "We only need ships to secure the rest."
I smiled. I would need to get these done first.
"Then I shall start taking care of that issue. Is there anything specific you need from me?" I asked Marwyn, looking at the increasing number of acolytes.
"A tower dedicated to the New-Maesters would be nice," said Marwyn simply.
"The College of Wizards," I said, "And use the Sea Dragon Tower for now."
"Some oak galls would be nice as well," said Marwyn simply, causing me to tilt my head, "For ink. With new students, our reserves are running dry. We will need to make new ink."
"Don't look at me," I said with a shrug, "I have an ink guy in Braavos that I buy from, not exactly something I learned how to make."
"Bah," said Marwyn, showing me how Oak Galls could be turned into an acid and mixed with iron salts.
"It needs the Gall Flies, their larvae leave behind the Oak Galls," he said simply, "ran into a few in Aegon's Garden."
I nodded. "Get someone to collect them... Though one wonders..." I spoke.
"What?" the Archmaester asked.
"What would happen if we used Weirwood instead?" I asked.
Marwyn gave me a grin like I just told him it was Christmas already, his red teeth clashing wildly with his pale skin.
"As for the iron salt," I said, passing a vial of black shavings of dragon bone.
"Viserys the Wizard, this is why you are my favorite noble..." he said simply.
"Get me a sample to study," I said, leaving Marwyn with a pot containing Weirwood to figure out the mechanics of creating Weirwood Galls and keep an eye on how the flies evolved. Seeing that the flies would consume parts of the Weirwood and potentially evolve into a magical species, it would require some delicate work.
---
In the meantime, I got to work.
It took a week of working to get every Pylon up in Blackwater Bay, usually involving sailing to the location with Revenge and getting close enough for me to Levitate to the small jagged rocks and start raising the solid blackstone towers topped with a single crystal.
It was monotonous, and the planned spread such that we always had the backing of the Solar Cannon.
The last one involved Rook's Rest and dealing with a very unhappy-looking Symond Staunton, whose firstborn had been sent to the Night's Watch.
And with that, the Gullet was mine, while the plans for expansion would ensure that I could secure the entire coastline.
---
# Fire and Glass: A Political History of the Rebirth of the Targaryen Dynasty
## Chapter VIII: The Megiddo Array and the Gullet Standstill
By Maester Ronnel of Oldtown, Archmaester of History and Political Analysis, 317 AC
---
"It is the historian's burden to separate myth from reality, legend from logistics, and sorcery from statecraft. With the life of Viserys III, however, those lines tend to blur." - Archmaester Gilbay.
---
### The Myth of the Megiddo Array
In the year 293 AC, the man now referred to (by some, including himself) as "Viserys the Wizard" emerged on the world stage from exile with claims of royal legitimacy, magical mastery, and what he termed 'tactical enlightenment.'
While much has been written, often uncritically, about his so-called Megiddo Array, there remains little consensus among learned men as to how such a device truly functioned. Reports suggest it was a magical siege weapon, skeptics suggest it to be a mere creation of artifice, potentially of Myrish origin. What is known, however, is that it is powered by sunlight and reflected through enchanted towers, capable of incinerating ships on the open sea with unnatural precision.
---
### A Cold War Under the Sun
It is generally accepted that for five years, from 293 to 298 AC, Westeros entered a period of military inaction centered around the Gullet, the stretch of water separating the Blackwate