Chapter 103: Where Is the Dragon's Shadow
"I'm afraid the compensation we can offer may not satisfy you," the old man shook his head regretfully. "To be honest, the Green Men have been in decline for a long time. I am the only skinchanger on the island who can control multiple beasts. The others are either too old or too weak. To put it bluntly, they might not even be able to defeat your soldiers. However, the heart tree told me that a very talented boy will soon emerge from the swamps. We will send him to your lands to serve you, as compensation for our offense."
Dragonzel shrugged. "You can't just pay nothing at all. Tell me what you know."
The Green Man elder thought for a moment, then listened to the harsh cries of the ravens overhead. Only then did he raise his head and say cautiously:
"The Children have seen a green dragon roaming through the swamps and along the coasts. It seemed to be preparing to fly northeast or southeast. That behemoth destroyed thirteen villages and two forests. I can still hear the children's cries."
"Is Vhagar heading for the Vale? Or the Crackclaw Point? Or some island in the Narrow Sea?" Dragonzel murmured.
However, Daemon's search area was already in that region, and Moondancer was patrolling the Vale. Although Princess Baela Targaryen was young, she was outstanding in both courage and dragon-handling skill. There was little need to worry about Vhagar suddenly striking the Vale unprepared.
As for Dragonstone…
Dragonzel paused.
Surely Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen would not fail to leave dragons behind to guard Dragonstone. Even if Vhagar attacked, it could not steal dragons, nor were there any irreplaceable figures left there.
Thinking of this, Dragonzel rubbed his fingers lightly.
"A new Green Seer—our spokesman, the Three-Eyed Raven—will be born from your bloodline, Your Highness," the Green Man elder continued. "The next two Green Seers will also carry your blood."
Dragonzel's brows instantly furrowed. "My bloodline?"
The elder nodded. "Of course, honored Dragon King—your bloodline."
Dragonzel fell silent for a moment.
"Forget it. My children and grandchildren will have their own fate. At least you haven't set your sights on my son and daughter, have you?"
The elder shook his head. "The heart tree in the North still requires several decades to complete the preparations to cultivate a true Green Seer. You need not worry."
Dragonzel gave a noncommittal shrug. He lifted the reins on the saddle.
"Let's go, Vermithor. There's nothing here worth staying for. Thank you for the information, Green Men."
Vermithor lazily scanned the weirwood forest, then spread his wings and soared into the sky.
It was only after the dragon disappeared into the clouds that several small figures cautiously emerged from the forest.
"So scary, so scary," a young girl patted her chest. "I feel like that dragon could burn our island to ash in one breath."
"And that big brother is terrifying too," another young Green Man whispered. "I can smell blood on him."
"Enough. Don't speak of others behind their backs."
The elder watched the dragon vanish, then tapped each of the children lightly with his staff.
"Why aren't you practicing your skills? If people come to collect debts, you won't even have anything to give."
Saltpans
"Your Grace."
Prince Daemon Targaryen took the bread offered by the kneeling salt pan owner and quickly stuffed it into his mouth. Caraxes tore into the sheep provided, crunching through bone and flesh alike.
This salt pan belonged to the town of Saltpans, though House Cox, its ruling family, were merely landed knights. They dared not offend either Blacks or Greens, retreating instead into their small island keep and praying daily to the Seven.
"Let the one who saw the dragon speak," Daemon said impatiently when the owner hesitated.
A young worker stepped forward trembling and dropped to his knees.
"My lord… I saw the green dragon burn a village of northerners, then fly into the mountains."
"Which mountains? Which direction?"
"South… southeast," the boy said after thinking hard, pointing uncertainly before finally nodding firmly.
Daemon rose immediately. He pulled a silver button from his armor and pressed it into the boy's palm.
"Buy bread and meat with this."
Without another word, he strode toward Caraxes. The Blood Wyrm finished devouring the last of the sheep, then lifted his head to meet his rider.
The Vale
Dragonzel, riding Vermithor, landed in a fishing village south of Gulltown.
The moment the great dragon touched ground, every villager fell to their knees, not daring to raise their heads.
"Who here knows what happened to the village to the west?" Dragonzel asked calmly.
An old man, likely the village elder, approached cautiously.
"My lord… you mean the western village?"
Vermithor gave him a cold glance. The man froze and spoke from a distance instead.
"We saw it last night. A dragon—bigger than Gulltown itself—burned the western village. I told everyone to hide."
"Well done."
Dragonzel tossed down a small piece of gold. It bounced off Vermithor's scales before landing at the old man's feet.
The man hurriedly picked it up, tucking it safely away. It was enough to feed the entire village for weeks.
"Did anyone see where it went?"
"South!" a sturdy woman called out. "I saw it this morning while fishing!"
Dragonzel nodded, patted Vermithor, and the dragon took flight once more.
As the dragon vanished, the woman stared blankly.
The village elder shuffled over.
"It's already good that such lords give anything. Go gather the women—we'll clear the granary. This gold can buy plenty of oats and rye."
"What about wheat?" the woman asked eagerly.
"Too expensive," the elder tapped her head. "You don't know how to run a household."
Two dragons now flew across the skies—one after another—toward Crackclaw Point and the islands of the Narrow Sea, hunting for Vhagar.
The Riverlands
A great battle loomed.
"Northmen, why have you come?"
Lady Sabitha Frey stood atop the walls of the Twins, watching the cavalry below bearing the Queen's banner quartered with the direwolf.
Each rider was old—white-haired, bearded, clad in worn mail and fur—but their eyes burned with lethal resolve.
They rode shaggy northern horses without armor, led by Lord Rodrik Dustin, called the Old Man, alongside Robb Ryswell.
"We came to die for the Dragon Queen, woman!" Rodrik shouted.
Sabitha laughed loudly.
"Then you've come to the right place—I plan to die for her as well! Open the gates! Let these old ghosts cross!"
She called down to them:
"I'll waive your bridge toll—keep your silver to greet the Stranger!"
The answer was roaring laughter.
The Northmen thundered across the bridge.
At the same time, the lions stirred.
From the Golden Tooth, the army of Lord Jason Lannister marched into the Riverlands.
They would meet the line of fire and blood—
Daemon Targaryen's defenses along the Red Fork.
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