After escaping from King's Landing, the Red Viper did not head directly south.
Dorne.
Dragonstone.
Even if he traveled south, after crossing the Crownlands, he would still have to pass through the Stormlands before reaching home. He couldn't go west either, as that would lead him to the Riverlands. Heading east was an even worse option. Although he could cross the Narrow Sea to Pentos, before doing so, he would first have to pass Dragonstone.
Thus, he had no choice but to go north.
From a letter, he learned that Viserys had subdued the nobles of Crackclaw Point. The land was riddled with ravines, and the forest was particularly dense—ideal for hiding. The only reason he had managed to escape in the first place was due to a clever trick and his improved water magic.
Once safe, he sent a message directly to Doran, saying he had successfully fled King's Landing. But his fortune didn't last long. Not far from his hiding place, he was captured by the Onion Knight, Davos Seaworth, and his men. The Red Viper's whereabouts had been revealed by the Red Witch, Melisandre.
She had seen his escape from King's Landing in a vision of flames. Melisandre spends most of her days guarding her brazier, divining the futures of important figures. Most of her visions pointed to one outcome—Viserys regaining the Iron Throne. This prophecy placed increasing pressure on the savior she served, Stannis. The only potential bringer of good news was the Red Viper.
Thus, Stannis Baratheon sent Ser Davos to intercept the Red Viper and prepare to bring him back to King's Landing.
The Red Viper knew that if he returned to King's Landing, he would be as good as dead. Yet, he wasn't panicking. Viserys had once told him, almost as if he knew it would happen, exactly what to do if he were ever captured by Stannis' men.
"Ser Seaworth, if you must capture me, take me to Dragonstone, not King's Landing!" the Red Viper pleaded.
Ser Seaworth regarded him with an expressionless face.
"Prince, I don't know if there's a difference. You know what kind of man Lord Stannis is."
Stannis had always been known for his "excessive justice." The Red Viper's escape from King's Landing was tantamount to treason. Whether he was taken to Dragonstone or King's Landing, his fate seemed sealed.
"Ser Seaworth," the Red Viper continued, "have you heard that Viserys once crossed the Sorrows, and no one contracted grayscale?"
Ser Seaworth's eyes twitched slightly, but he remained silent. His gloved hand fidgeted, as if the knuckles Stannis had cut off were trying to grow back. The Onion Knight already sensed where this conversation was headed. Shireen's suffering from grayscale was well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Did Viserys possess a cure?
But even if Viserys had the cure for Shireen, would he be the one to heal her?
Seeing Davos' hesitation, the Red Viper pressed on.
"Ser Seaworth, do you truly believe Viserys can't overthrow Robert without Dorne? Aegon conquered the Six Kingdoms with only 2,000 men and three dragons. Now, Viserys has seven dragons and 200,000 soldiers. Do you really think Robert stands a chance? By capturing me, you are only angering Viserys. He might have spared a single Baratheon, but what you're doing will make him destroy every last one of them. Is that what you want?"
Davos, listening in, was stunned. "Will Viserys really spare the Baratheons?"
"I don't know," the Red Viper replied. "It's just a possibility." After all, no one can promise anything when it comes to Viserys.
...
Tyrosh.
At this point, there were still two months left before Viserys decided to launch his invasion of Westeros. Before sending his armies, he convened one final "Dragon Council" meeting. Organized by Connington, this council—resembling a cabinet meeting—had everyone seated around a seven-meter-long table.
Viserys sat at the head of the table. Closest to him were Dany, Connington, Feles, Jorah, Regis, and the Windblown officers.
Next came the original Windblown officers, followed by officials from the Hopeful Lands. Further down the table sat officials and officers from the Golden Company. Connington had personally promoted all of the Golden Company officers, and now their greatest dream was to return home.
Among the attendees was a somewhat awkward teenager—Quentyn Martell. He had arrived in Tyrosh half a month earlier, accompanied by a group of guards. After stating his purpose, he had been given temporary lodging.
Quentyn still vividly remembered his first encounter with a dragon, a moment he would never forget. He now understood how Aegon had managed to unite a divided Westeros so swiftly. The dragons had grown to twice the size of a wagon in just over a year. Faced with such power, Quentyn couldn't fathom how Robert Baratheon planned to win. Worse, he felt frustrated, doubting his ability to stand out in front of Viserys. His inner turmoil, however, remained unnoticed by the others.
After lengthy discussion, Viserys made his final plans.
"The first army to enter Westeros will be 40,000 strong," Viserys announced to the council. "It will include 25,000 infantry, 10,000 horsemen, and 5,000 archers, and I will lead them myself."
This force represented the elite of his 100,000-strong army. Over 70% of the infantry consisted of trained Unsullied.
"Ser Connington, you will lead the second army of 30,000 men into Westeros," Viserys declared, handing him the 'dragon talisman.'
This talisman was Viserys's creation, modeled after the ancient 'tiger talisman' but with a twist—while the Chinese military emblem resembled a tiger, the 'dragon talisman' bore the image of the three-headed dragon from House Targaryen's crest. Viserys had brought skilled craftsmen from Qarth to forge these unique and uncopyable tokens.
The one he gave to Connington was the highest-ranking golden military token, inlaid with multi-colored dragon scales and precious gems. Complex text was engraved upon it. The token felt hot and heavy in Connington's hand—a weight symbolizing command and life itself.
Connington, his voice steady, said, "Yes, Your Grace."
He stood, took the talisman, and bowed deeply. In his heart, he knew that without Viserys, he would never have had another chance to redeem himself—not for the time he let Robert escape at Stoney Sept, nor for trusting the manipulations of Varys and Illyrio.
"Prince Hoyt, Prince Feles," Viserys continued, turning to the two men, "you will lead the third army into Westeros."
The two princes stood in unison, accepting their own military symbols from Viserys's hand. Everyone knew, however, that the third army might never see action. By the time Viserys's forces entered Westeros, many nobles were expected to defect to his cause. Doran Martell had already sent word that 40,000 men had risen in Dorne and were marching north. Highgarden had remained quiet so far, but given their position in Robert's Rebellion, it was only a matter of time before they joined Viserys.
After outlining the battle plan, Viserys prepared to close the meeting with a final speech. As he rose, the others followed suit, all eyes on him—young and old alike, their faces full of expectation.
"Fourteen years ago," Viserys began, his voice commanding the room, "my brother Rhaegar was killed by Robert at the Trident. The gates of King's Landing were thrown open by Tywin Lannister, pretending to serve the crown. My father, the king, was murdered by his own Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister, who drove his sword into his chest."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"Rhaegar's wife and children were slaughtered at Robert's orders. This time, I return to Westeros not just to reclaim the Iron Throne, but to take vengeance on the usurper and send him to the deepest level of hell!"
His voice echoed through the hall, and at that moment, the dragons outside let out a mighty roar, as if in agreement.