Chapter 12 Fleet Sets Sail
Volantis, Silver Dragon Docks.
After several weeks of careful rest, quiet consolidation, and deliberate preparation, Dragonzel Varezes finally issued formal notice of imminent departure to the gathered nobles and captains who owed him allegiance.
The Bantaro Family had utterly collapsed; their wealth, estates, and trading privileges were divided between the Tiger Party and the Elephant Party in the Senate, while Dragonzel secured a considerable hoard of gold, along with twenty-three large ships and nearly a hundred medium and small vessels seized from the aftermath.
Now, all of these ships were incorporated into House Varezes's growing fleet, their banners replaced, their captains sworn anew.
Of course, not all of these vessels would be committed to this particular voyage.
During the extended period of rest, Dragonzel personally selected the ships for the expedition. Among them were the newly constructed Crying Boy and the Silent Lord, the latter designated as the flagship of this undertaking.
These two enormous vessels had been built using the advanced shipbuilding methods preserved in the designs left behind by Cleorius. They relied not upon banks of oars, but instead upon multiple towering masts and vast sails so broad they seemed capable of blotting out the sun itself when fully unfurled.
It was said that during sea trials, both ships had demonstrated speeds surpassing even the famed three-hundred-oared war galleys of Volantis.
In addition to these two great flagships, the fleet assembled for this voyage included nine sail-driven galleons of formidable tonnage, twelve three-hundred-oared war galleys, and sixty-five additional war galleys of two-hundred and one-hundred-and-fifty oars respectively.
So long as this fleet avoided the fury of storms, it possessed the strength to dominate the Summer Sea entirely.
The silver-haired youth had only just dismounted from his horse when he spread his arms wide and hurried toward Dragonzel Varezes, who stood waiting with open arms of his own.
"Brother."
Valarr embraced him tightly, and Dragonzel rose slightly onto his toes to ruffle his younger brother's hair and clasp his shoulder with firm approval.
"You have grown much stronger. I regret deeply what occurred with the assassination attempt."
"It was not your fault, Dragonzel," Valarr replied, finally loosening his grip.
"It was our own failure of vigilance."
"What matters is that you live." Dragonzel nodded toward Hofa and Sebastian Jieyan, who had followed close behind.
"You two as well. Guard yourselves first, always."
The two young men straightened at once, striking their clenched fists against their chests in solemn salute.
"Valarr!"
The dissatisfied voice came from behind Dragonzel, and only then did Valarr notice Ray standing slightly concealed behind his elder brother.
The boy was growing rapidly, his features changing almost from one day to the next.
"And you as well." Valarr laughed softly and vigorously tousled Ray's hair several times.
"The little rascal grows taller every time I see him."
"Hmph." Ray pouted in protest.
Yet he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his brother all the same.
"We were all worried about you."
"How fares Flame Wing?"
"He is well. He takes to the sky each day and circles the city." Ray cast a faintly resentful glance toward Maester Visari, who had come to see them off at the docks.
"He enjoys far more freedom than I do."
"Flame Wing is already old," Dragonzel said quietly, his tone turning reflective.
"He may not survive until our return. I ordered that he be released rather than confined."
The three youths stood together for a short while in shared mourning for the falcon before boarding the waiting warship amid the retinue and sworn men.
Because Dragonzel had already announced the fleet's departure through the Senate, the docks were far less crowded than usual, and the harbor authorities had cleared the surrounding piers so that the great ships could depart side by side without obstruction.
The red-robed priest Marakh, now largely recovered from his injuries, had also come aboard and sat quietly upon the deck reading from a worn volume, his crimson robes stirring faintly in the salt wind.
Vansen Caron and Gonsor Fire-Bringer remained in Volantis to oversee affairs in Dragonzel's absence, while Maester Visari returned to his manse accompanied by his grand-disciple, Evans Dane.
Most of the young companions who followed Dragonzel chose to sail with their lord.
Lynn Valtaken wore polished purple armor, its lacquered plates reflecting the pale sunlight, while Ago—bare of armor but with a curved arakh at his waist—stood guard at their liege's side.
Hofa and Sebastian Jieyan boarded the flagship Silent Lord, assisting in its command alongside Aemon.
Tigaro Dagareon and Adams boarded the Crying Boy together with young Ray; this great vessel boasted spacious cabins and broad passageways, its interior lit by high-set windows that admitted the sea breeze.
Amos Fezerel and Zesar Weaver boarded the three-hundred-oared war galley Sailfish, taking command of that principal warship together with Aslan Longdel.
Then the deep, resonant note of a horn sounded across the harbor.
The vast fleet began its slow departure, massive hulls guided outward by tow barges as sailors shouted orders across the decks.
The sea churned and foamed beneath the collective weight of so many ships.
At that same hour, in the distant north.
In a place veiled by heavy fog, the towering Titan of Braavos suddenly emerged from the mist, its vast bronze form straddling the harbor mouth as if guarding the city beyond.
Behind the Titan, the city floated upon the waters.
Hundreds of islands of varying size spread across the lagoon, joined by long bridges of gray stone, red brick, and gilded iron that arched elegantly over narrow canals.
The city was fashioned entirely of stone and masonry, without a trace of green growth to soften its severity.
Upon one such island encircled by dark water, atop a low rocky rise, stood a structure crowned with strange black spires, silent and watchful.
Its twelve-foot carved wooden doors were tightly shut. The left door of pale weirwood bore the carving of a half-moon of ebony, while the right door of black ebony displayed a crescent of weirwood, together forming a full moon of black and white.
Within, a pool ten feet in diameter rippled faintly, reflecting the caverned walls and thirty statues of many shapes and visages.
Among them stood the Weeping Woman, the Lion of Night, the Hooded Wayfarer, Bakkalon the Pale Child, the Stranger, and the Merling King.
All the gods watched their own reflections in the still water.
A man staggered forward and collapsed at the edge of the pool beside a figure cloaked in robes half black and half white.
He accepted a cup of water offered to him.
"May you find peace," the hooded figure said softly.
A red candle burned low.
The black cup slipped from trembling fingers.
The man died without a sound.
The hooded figure gently touched the corpse's face.
When he lifted his head again, it bore the very face of the dead man—empty of expression.
Suddenly he clutched at his features as though agony tore through him from within.
He crouched low, whispering words no other ear could understand.
Time passed.
He rose again.
"An oracle from the Many-Faced God?" he murmured, touching skin that seemed to wither even as he spoke.
"The descendant of the Chainbreaker… the benefactor of the Faceless Men… does he now embark upon his destined path?"
He seated himself before the statue of the Stranger.
"The Faceless Men do not forget," he whispered. "As the Many-Faced God wills, it shall be done."
From the shadows stepped another tall, slender figure in a hood.
"All men must die."
"All men must serve."
The first man raised his head, his face half decayed yet devoid of emotion.
"Someone has been called."
"There remains service yet."
"The price has been paid. The gift shall be granted.
Someone must go east and seek the musician guided by the god who will alter the melody."
"Someone still doubts."
"As the Many-Faced God wills."
His head lowered once more.
"Someone will speak without concealment."
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