131: Chapter 131 The Spider's Last Intelligence

Evening.

The roof of the Copper and Bed Brothel.

Drogon and Tyrion climbed onto the roof to watch the evening glow after the white smoke dispersed.

The evening glow of King's Landing was torn by the sea breeze into shreds of golden-red fluff, hanging over the Blackwater River.

Varys had sat down by the chimney on the other end of the roof at some unknown point.

His lavender silk robes were stained with soot, but he seemed completely unbothered.

In his hand, he held a message tube—not the kind from a raven's leg, but one delivered by a miniature hummingbird from the Summer Islands.

The hummingbird was still perched on his shoulder, panting softly, its feathers shimmering with an emerald metallic luster in the twilight.

Varys handed the message tube to Drogon. His voice was soft, but the content was as cold and hard as iron.

"The Enforcement Squad will arrive in the skies above King's Landing in four days.

Cersei has learned that the Targaryen fleet is gathering at Dragonstone—her source of information is not me, but Qyburn's dark magic and the smugglers of King's Landing harbor. She plans to launch a surprise attack on Dragonstone before Sansa is found.

Her plan is to load the remaining wildfire jars in King's Landing—the dozen or so jars Qyburn recently dug up from beneath the ruins of the Great Sept of Baelor—onto a Braavosi mercenary fleet and launch a night raid on Dragonstone. She doesn't know that the Cremation Array has already failed."

Drogon took the message tube. His finger lightly touched the hummingbird's leg. The hummingbird ruffled its feathers on his fingertip and then flew away.

"...A surprise attack on Dragonstone. With just a dozen jars of wildfire and a mercenary fleet. She thinks there are still fifty-six jars."

"Exactly. Before the Cremation Array was dismantled, Qyburn assured her that 'fifty-six jars are secure.'

After you dismantled the Cremation Array, Qyburn didn't dare tell her the truth.

So her tactics are built on an incorrect inventory of wildfire. This is a window—and a trap.

If you let her strike first, Dragonstone's defenses will be activated early, but the Enforcement Squad won't have arrived yet.

You will have to fight a naval battle before the Enforcement Squad arrives. If you strike first—on the day the Enforcement Squad arrives—King's Landing will face two enemies at once: the Gold Cloaks and the Enforcement Squad."

Tyrion drew a horizontal line on the roof tiles with his short cane, marking five arrows.

"The fourth day. On the fourth day, you must lure the Enforcement Squad to the skies above King's Landing while simultaneously stopping Cersei from launching a surprise attack on Dragonstone.

The first task—you are already in King's Landing. The second task—your dragon can burn Cersei's fleet before it sets sail.

But both tasks must be completed at the same time.

Either you Clone yourself, or you let White Mane and the Mother of Dragons handle the defense of Dragonstone while you stay in King's Landing alone to deal with the Enforcement Squad."

"Sansa set off north today. There are Unsullied guards in the northern mission.

Daenerys has White Mane and eight thousand Unsullied on Dragonstone—that's more than enough to deal with Cersei's mercenary fleet.

I will deal with the Enforcement Squad in King's Landing. We divide them like this."

Tyrion drew a curved line next to the arrow representing Dragonstone, connecting it to King's Landing. Varys stood up from beside the chimney and brushed the soot off his sleeves.

"Dividing forces. Then divide them. In four days—the battle will begin on two fronts simultaneously. The naval battle of Dragonstone will start first, followed by the aerial battle over King's Landing.

If Dragonstone wins, Cersei's wildfire reserves will be completely reduced to zero.

If the aerial battle over King's Landing is won—with the Enforcement Squad harvested or persuaded by you, and the morale of King's Landing's Gold Cloaks collapsed—the conditions for a siege will be ripe.

Four days. I still have a hummingbird waiting at the Braavos harbor for the last piece of intelligence—the exact departure time of the mercenary fleet. I will forward it to Dragonstone immediately upon receipt."

Drogon tucked the hummingbird message tube into the leather pouch at his waist and stood up. The evening glow burned into a sheet of golden-red flame behind him.

His deep brown round pupils contracted slightly in the twilight, a very fine dark gold shimmering deep within them.

"Four days. Leave Dragonstone to her and White Mane. King's Landing—leave it to me and Tyrion."

Late at night.

The Dragonstone training ground. Only a single Dragonglass Lamp cast a cold light on the volcanic rock ground. The sea breeze poured in from the direction of the volcanic crater, blowing the Dothraki grass at the edge of the training ground flat.

White Mane was conducting her final pre-battle swordplay sparring. Her opponent was neither an Unsullied veteran nor a Dothraki centurion.

It was Daenerys Targaryen.

The Mother of Dragons wore a simple black riding outfit, holding a spare valyrian steel short sword that was a third shorter than the dragon-kiss sword—it was one of the valyrian steel daggers Drogon had brought back from the Yunkai treasury.

The blade was slender and the guard simple; it seemed slightly heavy in her hand, but she held it steadily. Her purple eyes focused intently on White Mane's line of attack.

White Mane used the dragon-kiss sword to execute the opening stance of consecutive slashes.

But the speed was half as slow as usual, and the angles were deliberately wider. She wasn't attacking; she was teaching.

When the first sword slashed down, Daenerys sidestepped to avoid it. On the second sword's horizontal sweep, she parried with her short sword, the metal collision spitting out a few sparks. As the backhand thrust came, she took half a step back, just in time for the tip of White Mane's sword to stop half a foot in front of her.

White Mane sheathed her sword into its old scabbard. Her amber eyes gleamed with satisfaction under the Dragonglass Lamp.

"You've improved. Last time you couldn't block the second strike. This time you did. You've been practicing every day while he's been away."

Daenerys sheathed the short sword back at her waist and flexed her wrist, which was slightly numb from the recoil. Her voice was breathy, but steady.

"When he's not here, I am the Dragon of Dragonstone. This time Cersei is launching a surprise attack—he asked me to stay on Dragonstone and defend it with you. He's going to King's Landing alone to deal with the Enforcement Squad. I promised him. I won't go back on my word. But I must ensure that when he lures the Chronos Dragon toward the Gold Cloaks in the skies above King's Landing, I can hold Dragonstone for him."

White Mane untied the black silk scarf from the hilt of her sword and tied it back around her left wrist. It was a token Daenerys had tied around her wrist. After tying it, she looked up, her amber eyes meeting Daenerys's purple eyes.

"You can. And not just you—Missandei managed the city in Meereen for so long, and her deployment plan arrived just this morning. Grey Worm's Unsullied have already readjusted the firing angles of the ballistas on the eastern side of Dragonstone according to her plan.

If Cersei's mercenary fleet dares to come—they will run right into Rhaegal and Viserion at the mouth of the Blackwater River. Although those two dragons aren't as large as Drogon, they are more than enough to burn a dozen mercenary ships."

Late at night. Daenerys's bedchamber. Outside the window, the red glow of the volcanic crater slowly flickered in the darkness.

After Drogon flew back to Dragonstone from King's Landing, he handed the summary booklet brought back from The Citadel and the Glass Candle to Melisandre. Then, he pushed open the door to Daenerys's bedchamber directly.

She wasn't asleep yet.

She sat in front of her dressing table, holding the obsidian foam bracelet Sansa had woven. The bracelet was very light, and every piece of foam was shaped differently—some round, some flat, some with a tiny hole in the middle.

The joint was strung with silver thread—which Sansa had unraveled from the hem of her own skirt. Seeing him enter through the reflection in the mirror, she placed the bracelet on the table.

"Sansa gave this to you. She said you were too engrossed in counting dragonglass at the back door. Put it on. Tomorrow you go to King's Landing to deal with the Enforcement Squad—don't get distracted. Dragonstone is mine. King's Landing is yours."

Drogon slipped the bracelet onto his left wrist.

The obsidian foam shimmered with an extremely faint iridescence under the Dragonglass Lamp. He looked down at the bracelet for a moment, then raised his head, his slitted pupils meeting hers in the mirror. The silver-gray rim of his slitted pupils was incredibly faint under the lamplight.

"For Dragonstone's defense—White Mane said Rhaegal and Viserion will handle the eastern reefs. She will personally lead the Dothraki Cavalry to guard the western beachhead. You will command from the Great Pyramid.

Cersei's mercenary fleet is composed of Braavosi; they are not good at hard naval battles. They rely on wildfire. Once the wildfire jars are exploded by dragonflame, the fleet will fall into chaos. Are you confident?"

"Yes. Every day you were gone, I sparred with White Mane on the training ground. Not to learn how to use a sword, but to learn how to keep enemies from getting close. She said I was the best student she ever taught. Though I am her only formal student."