He flew atop Vermax, happy to be free of Kings Landing and its plots
and the feeling of the walls of the Red Keep closing in on him.
The latest Small Council meetings had been torturous, endless
arguments about what to do in the face of the apparent moves being
made by the Greens, and the ever-present crushing lack of coin
available to the Iron Throne.
It was only through the generosity of his grandfather Lord Corlys that
the Iron Throne had any coin at all, but in return House Velaryon was
squeezing every last ounce of advantage of the penniless Queen.
Loans at rates that if not exorbitant, were not far off it, tax and
customs reductions that now stretched into the next decade for
Driftmark in general and House Velaryon in particular. Add to this
royal patents and charters for trade and several very lucrative
monopolies and his grandfather would easily pass away as not just
the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms, but his wealth might even
approach that of the great Triarchs of Volantis.
The former Master of Coin had hidden away the Royal Treasury, so
that when they had captured Kings Landing the vaults had been bare
of coin and precious metals. And despite having been savagely put
to the question, Ser Tyland Lannister had refused to divulge its
whereabouts. Hugh had remarked that the treasury was in actuality
'one quarter in the vaults of Casterly rock, one quarter beneath the
Hightower, a quarter given over to the care of the Iron Bank and the
rest spent on bribes and sellswords.'
When Prince Daemon had asked Hugh how he knew this the
dragonrider had shrugged his shoulders and replied, 'a dragon
dream'. Prince Daemon had been annoyed by this and had asked
when Hugh had experienced this particular 'dragon dream', to which
Hugh had replied 'a few nights ago.'
This had not satisfied the Lord Protector of the Realm one whit, and
he had stormed off in a rage, muttering darkly.
Luckily for them the forces of the Vale that they were dependent
upon were being paid for by Lady Arryn of the Vale, in return for an
abeyance in taxes on the Vale once the war was over, another future
potential fall in revenue for the Iron Throne. But the Iron Throne still
had to pay its day-to-day expenses, to say nothing of the cost of
paying for the war, there were sellswords to be paid, the costs of the
Royal Fleet, which escalated as the fleet was at sea most of the
time, the cost of feeding and housing so many dragons, of paying
the staff of the Red Keep, and the list just went on and on and on.
And even with the loans and gifts of money House Velaryon was
providing taxes had been raised, he had proposed a tax on whores,
much to the mixed displeasure and amusement of the Small Council.
It had actually been an idea of Hugh's, who was not actually
permitted to attend the Small Council, and he had mentioned it
before the Small Council.
And so, the 'bastards' penny' as it came to be known was instigated,
a tax on each coupling with a whore, along with some other taxes
and charges, all needed to keep the Iron Throne just about solvent.
The many merchants trapped in Kings Landing by their blockade
were now free to trade again, though not without paying once off
dues for the 'inspection' of their cargos, to which they had muttered
and grumbled about, but which had been paid up, though often at
sword point.
More worrying, and more contentious than the perennial problem of
the Iron Throne's coin was to come from was the moves by the
Greens in the Reach and the Stormlands. Armies were on the march
and their objectives were easy to determine - firstly to cut off Kings
Landing from the produce of the Reach and secondly to menace the
capital.
At that later point he had wondered about the sense of this, for had
not they superiority in dragons that should be able to counter the
Greens superiority in men on the ground?
Discussing this with Hugh had revealed that the dragonrider had a
mind that operated like a trap, for he was able to explain to him that
the supposed advantage that they had was in reality a disadvantage.
And that was something very difficult for him to hear, but the more he
thought on it, the more the ex-Blacksmiths words made sense. He
would have to keep Hugh around, for the rider of Vermithor had
talked more sense and logic to him than any of his Maesters or any
Knight or Lord he had ever met.
Some of what Hugh talked about, like 'centre of gravity' and 'getting
inside your opponent's decision cycle' sounded alien to him, even
after Hugh had taken pains to explain the concepts he was alluding
to.
But it chilled him to realise that his enemies were as smart as they
appeared to be, Hugh remarking that 'if only enemies were stupid, it
would make wars so much easier'. It equally chilled him to know that
their enemies looked like they had a counter to their dragons,
supposedly the ultimate weapons of war.
When he had voiced this to Hugh the man had smiled a wan smile
and replied "how many centuries did it take the Freehold to defeat
Ghis eh? And with all the economic, military and political might of the
Freehold behind then, and never mind hundreds of dragons? Did
you ever think about that Jace? It was because dragons are not
invincible, they have vulnerabilities, and they can be countered. Yes,
they are the ultimate weapon, but they are not the 'last weapon' my
Prince. When you train at swords, does not the Master at Arms
always tell you what the correct riposte to every strike is?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's the same with dragons, and knights, and infantry, and light
cavalry, and archers, everything has its strengths and weaknesses,
and our enemy are intent on exploiting our weakness in conventional
ground forces and the delays in Command and Control that our
communications impose on us."
He cleared his mind of these somewhat maudlin train of thoughts
and instead looked forwards to meeting Baela, both of them had
dragons and their respective parents were not on Dragonstone, he
was sure that if he suggested it the two of them could fly away
somewhere private.
It would be no sin to his eyes, they are betrothed already for a long
time, and Baela was not shy in the kisses and caresses that they
had furtively shared before.
And if any stuffy Seneschal or Septa complained they could pass it
off as a flight to 'inspect the defences' of Dragonstone and Driftmark,
or some such other lie.
With these pleasant thoughts warming his mind, and another part of
him he flew through the bank of clouds ahead of him, reckoning that
he was close to Dragonstone, having just passed Driktmark to Port.
He gave a little laugh at that, and Hugh's insistence on using nautical
terminology for directions from dragonback, but the laugh died
strangled in his throat as he emerged from the clouds to see dragons
circling Dragonstone.
One he immediately recognised, for who else could it be but Vhagar,
her great bulk evident even at this distance, the other smaller one,
which followed the gigantic beast must be Tessarion.
And rising to meet the two dragons Sheepstealer and Moondancer, a
screamed "Nooooooooo!" spitting from his mouth with involuntary
terror and fear.
He drove Vermax forwards faster, panic and sheer horror clutching at
his very heart, as he watched Sheepstealer and Moondancer twist
and turn, trying to avoid the great bulk of Vhagar and line up shots of
dragonfire.
As he dove downwards, lips pulled back from his teeth he thanked
the gods for the training that Hugh had made them do these past few
months, to avoid crashing into other dragons and instead to stand off
and use manoeuvrability to line up shots of dragonfire against the
wings of opposing dragons. For the thin, membranous wings of
dragons were their weak spot, the larger and older the dragon the
more able it was to shrug off opposing dragonfire due to his scales.
But its wings? They remained as unprotected as the day it hatched;
these were what Hugh drilled into them to aim at.
And Jacaerys realised that was what Baela and Nettles were doing,
refusing to be drawn into a close-range fight where talons, jaws and
sheer size would count, instead flitting around the two dragons, and
especially the larger Vhagar, trying to get in shots.
But as Jacaerys closed far too slowly for his liking he realised that
Baela was at a huge disadvantage, her dragon Moondancer was just
too small, and its fires too weak and short ranged to make this tactic
effective. And even Sheepstealer, a bigger dragon was having
trouble in getting shots in, the smaller dragon Tessarion was
constantly covering its larger stablemate, ruining the attempted
attacks.
And then, with an inevitability that Jacaerys saw coming in almost
slow-motion Baela pushed Moondancer just that little bit too close to
Vhagar, who seemed to ponderously move its bulk away from the
path of Moondancers flight. Just as Baela's dragon was opening its
mouth to unleash its flames the great beasts wing stroke barely
seemed to catch one of Moondancer's wings. But it was enough, the
smaller dragon tumbled away, out of control, its flames dying in its
throat. And that was all that was needed, Tessarion twisted and
unleashed a jet of fames that engulfed the head and neck of
Moondancer, the smaller dragon staggering and falling away, flakes
of flesh scales falling away behind it as it plunged downwards, until it
fell vertically form the sky, to splash into the waters of Blackwater
Bay.
Jacaerys howled his grief and rage at this, his eyes blinded by hot
tears, he furiously wiped at his face and eyes to clear his vision as
he watched Sheepstealer try to make a run for it, Nettles and her
mount obviously deciding that this was a battle they could not win.
But the girl and her ugly, skinny dragon did not get far, Tessarion was
far to nimble for Sheepstaler and he harried the dragon mercilessly,
until eventually Sheepstealer was herded into the trap of Vhagar,
who pounced on the dragon and started to rip the unfortunate
dragon to pieces, tearing great chunks from Sheepstealer with his
jaws and talons.
As Vhagar roared its rage and shook the smaller dragon like a terrier
shakes a rat he barely noticed Tessarion peel away, tuning
impossibly tightly to absent herself from the destruction taking place.
He was close enough now to hear the screams of Sheepstealer as
he was torn asunder, Jacaerys was beyond caring now, beyond
rational thought as he drove Vermax down and down, intent on
crashing into the back of the great beast. Everything that Hugh had
thought them was washed away in a haze of pure battlelust and
rage, he never seeing the swift shape of Tessarion approaching, only
the jarring impact as the dragon smashed into his mount broadside,
nearly knocking him from his saddle atop Vermax.
Before he could regain control of his dragon and escape flames
roared over him, every nerve in his body screaming in agony,
searing pain so intense into his brain that he could scarce form any
thoughts.
For how long the pain lasted for Jacaerys could not say, all that
registered was that he seemed to be falling and that the waters of
Blackwater Bay below him looked cool and inviting.