Chapter 25: Otto Hightower's Plan
"Otto, calm yourself. Let Grand Maester finish the intelligence report," King lightly tapped the table several times, signaling Otto to sit down.
"I beg your pardon, Your Grace. This news is truly alarming. I lost my composure," said Ser , bowing his head before slowly resuming his seat.
Grand Maester Mellos opened a heavy tome and continued, "According to the archives, House Varezes was once among the forty Dragonlord families of Valyria. The last Valyrian Emperor, Orion Valareus, belonged to this bloodline. After the Doom, the family lost all its dragons, and its descendants withdrew behind the Black Wall of Volantis, living upon the vast wealth left by their forebears. The former patriarch, Cleorius, however, was a prodigy. He expanded their fortunes still further and maintained a standing army numbering several thousand trained soldiers. This force long contended with Dothraki khalasars and sellsword companies, gaining significant experience in war. More than a decade past, Cleorius wed…"
The Grand Maester paused.
"Continue," said King Viserys, pressing his fingers to his temple.
"…the self-exiled Princess Saera Targaryen."
Silence fell across the chamber. Even Lord lowered his gaze, absently turning the carved sphere before him.
"The Princess bore three sons: Dragonzel, Valarr, and Ray. Of these, Dragonzel Varezes and Valarr Varezes are said to have tamed dragons. Reports from Pentos further state that House Varezes' fleet now sails west, no fewer than three hundred great ships strong."
"So they command dragons, wealth, and thousands of seasoned men?" asked Ser , Master of Ships, carefully avoiding further mention of Princess Saera.
"Your Grace, dragons must not be permitted to pass beyond our reach," Ser Otto declared, rising once more.
"I am well aware," Viserys replied wearily. "What course do you propose?"
"We must answer dragon with dragon. We possess Vhagar, Sunfyre, and Dreamfyre. Dragonstone holds Syrax and Caraxes, and Princess rides Meleys. Our strength is greater."
"My Lord Hand," Lord Larys said evenly, "Princess is with child, as the realm well knows. A pregnant woman cannot take to dragonback. Prince has only just recovered from illness and has mounted Vhagar but once. Princess likewise lacks experience. And Prince …" He cast a sideways glance toward Otto.
Otto pressed his lips thin but continued, "Your Grace, if this matter is mishandled, we risk repeating the calamities of old."
Viserys understood without further explanation.
Lord , Master of Coin, cleared his throat. "It would seem that only Prince and Princess Rhaenys could be dispatched in strength."
"Your Grace," said Lord , Master of Laws, "if he is the son of Princess Cenilla, might he not be brought into the fold of the Realm?"
Otto moved to object, but hesitated.
"In the Great Council of King , Princess Saera's line was set aside from inheritance," Lord Jasper continued. "This need not concern succession, only alliance."
Lord Beesbury coughed sharply. "Let us not reopen settled questions of inheritance."
The King's expression shifted faintly before settling once more. "Proceed."
"Since no claim is at issue," Lord Jasper said quickly, "House Varezes might be treated as another Valyrian house."
"My Lord," Otto replied, "House Velaryon has stood beside House Targaryen for centuries. Their bloodlines have long intermingled. Only in the time of Lord did dragons return to their line through Princess Rhaenys. That bond is not easily compared."
Grand Maester Mellos inclined his head. "House Velaryon once possessed three adult dragons, Vhagar among them. Upon the death of Lady , Prince Aemond claimed Vhagar. Seasmoke became riderless following the death of Ser ."
"I understand the implication," Otto said. "Alliance through marriage, and eventual absorption through blood. Yet the royal house has no unwed daughters to offer."
Queen spoke at last. "My son Aegon and daughter Helaena are wed in the sight of the Seven. Princess Rhaenyra's son is betrothed to Prince Daemon's daughter. There are no immediate brides to spare."
"We may look to the next generation," Lord Larys suggested. "Or await future daughters. Grand Maester, the youngest Varezes son is but twelve, is he not?"
Mellos nodded. "Ray Varezes is twelve years of age."
"We can afford patience," Larys said softly. "Or encourage discord among brothers."
Ser Tyland interjected, "Your Grace, marriage alone will not suffice. They come with hundreds of ships and tens of thousands of followers."
"Land, wealth, and titles," Lord Beesbury observed. "Those are the currencies of ambition."
"Land?" Lord Jasper retorted. "Whose lands shall be surrendered? Yours? Mine? Every acre in the Seven Kingdoms is sworn to some lord."
"Enough," King Viserys said at last. "We shall pursue alliance. The manner of it shall be determined in due time. Grand Maester, compile a list of Crown lands unclaimed or lightly held. Dispatch letters to the Wardens regarding possible grants. We will reconvene."
"As Your Grace commands."
The council dispersed. Ser Otto Hightower departed in grim silence toward the Tower of the Hand. Hightower retainers hastened to attend him.
"Write to Lord Hobert Hightower," Otto ordered. "Have a parcel of land near Oldtown prepared at once."
The servant hesitated only a breath before hurrying toward the rookery.
A faint, calculating smile crossed the Hand's face.
Summer Sea.
The Varezes fleet swelled as more vessels joined its ranks. Lady Klivna Vessamar did not hinder their departure; rather, she facilitated it, providing ships for soldiers, craftsmen, and smallfolk alike.
"My Lord, envoys of the Tiger Party have shadowed us for days," said Vansen Caron steadily upon the deck.
Above, Vermithor and Silverwing circled. Valarr practiced flight in widening arcs.
Ray's young dragon had grown at astonishing speed. Its scales hardened; cruel spikes thrust outward; its frame lengthened, lean and serpentine.
He had named it Shadow Nightmare.
"Brother, more meat?" Ray called.
Dragonzel smiled and signaled for the cook.
He then turned to Vansen. "No. The Tiger Party would mire us in Essos."
"But Westeros…" Vansen hesitated. "It is said to be backward."
"I know," Dragonzel replied, squinting into the western sun. "This is both trial and destiny."
Vansen bowed his head. "House Caron stands as your spear."
Vermithor passed overhead, casting a vast shadow across the deck.
Dragonzel's gaze remained fixed upon the distant west.
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