The first report reached Daetosh five days after the proclamation of House Baraeris.
It arrived shortly before dawn, carried by a rider whose horse collapsed beneath him inside the northern gate.
Dust covered the man’s clothing, and dried blood marked one side of his face where a branch or blade had opened the skin above his ear.
He had travelled through most of the night, changing horses twice at settlements that still recognised the authority of Daetosh.
The guards brought him directly to the magistrates’ hall.
Mortarion entered wearing a black tunic beneath a light breastplate rather than Aurion’s complete armour.
Dreaded Deliverance hung at his side, while the silver sphinx of House Baraeris had been stitched across his chest with green thread marking its eyes and claws.
Blue Bat followed him into the chamber.
The Unsullied commander spoke only High Valyrian, as did every soldier summoned into this world beneath Mortarion’s command.
Qavo Merrax therefore took his place beside the map table to translate between Blue Bat and the local officials.
Belarro Vezhar stood near the exhausted rider.
“This man serves a merchant house that trades between Daetosh and Varos,” the magistrate explained.
“He left the town three days ago after hearing that the Tyroshi garrison had begun calling soldiers into its walls.”
Mortarion turned towards the rider.
“You will begin with what you saw yourself.
Afterwards, you may tell me what others claimed.”
The man swallowed before answering.
“I saw companies entering Varos from the western road, Master Mortarion.
Some wore Tyroshi armour, while others carried the colours of sellsword captains.
The fields beyond the southern wall have become a camp, and wagons arrive throughout the day carrying grain, arrows and barrels of water.”
“How many soldiers did you count?”
“I could not approach closely enough to count every formation.
There were at least four thousand when I left, though people inside Varos said more were expected from the coast.”
“Who commands them?”
“The name I heard most often was Serro Hestar, one of the Archon’s mainland generals.
The merchants said he fought in the Stepstones.”
Belarro looked towards Mortarion.
“Hestar is known in the western territories.
He served several Tyroshi commanders during the war against Prince Daemon Targaryen and the Sea Snake.”
Mortarion had expected Tyrosh to respond.
The size of the response interested him more than its existence.
“What else did you hear?” he asked the rider.
“The host is expected to number six thousand once every company arrives.
Nearly half are sellswords.
The rest are Tyroshi veterans, including men who fought upon Bloodstone and the nearby islands.”
Mortarion considered the distinction.
Sellswords could be unreliable when deprived of pay or placed beneath poor leadership.
That did not make them harmless.
Many companies survived because their officers understood war better than the noble patrons who hired them.
The Tyroshi veterans concerned him more.
They had fought in the Stepstones against Prince Daemon, Corlys Velaryon and Caraxes.
Some would have seen dragonfire descend upon ships and fortifications.
They would understand that tightly packed formations offered easy targets and that siege engines had to be concealed or dispersed.
Anaxion remained larger than Caraxes, but size did not make the enemy ignorant.
Mortarion looked towards Blue Bat and spoke in High Valyrian.
“The Archon has selected men who have already faced a dragon.
That suggests the host is intended for more than intimidation.”
Qavo translated for the magistrates.
Blue Bat answered in the same ancient language.
“Veterans may resist panic longer than inexperienced troops, but experience can also teach fear.
Men who survived dragonfire will remember what it did to those beside them.”
“Do not build a plan around fear,” Mortarion replied.
“If they break, we will exploit it.
Until then, we assume they hold.”
Qavo translated the exchange.
Belarro listened with growing unease.
“Varos lies more than a week away if an army marches with wagons,” he said.
“The Tyroshi cannot reach Daetosh immediately, but every settlement along the western road will offer them supplies once their banners appear.”
“They will offer supplies because refusal would bring punishment,” Mortarion said.
“That does not mean the people wish to see them succeed.”
Belarro pointed towards the map.
“There is only one significant settlement between Daetosh and Varos, though calling it a settlement may be generous.
Narra was destroyed years ago and never rebuilt.”
Mortarion followed his finger.
The symbol lay three days west of Daetosh, close to the principal road.
Beyond it, the route continued through farmland and broken villages before dividing towards Varos and Maedros.
“What remains of Narra?” Mortarion asked.
“Sections of its wall, an old magistrate’s house and several stone warehouses.
The wells survived when the town burned, and shepherds still use them during summer.
No more than a few dozen people live among the ruins.”
“Why was it destroyed?”
“Tyrosh accused the town of hiding Myrish scouts.
The garrison resisted when Tyroshi soldiers attempted to arrest the magistrates.
By the time the fighting ended, most of Narra had burned.”
Blue Bat listened to Qavo’s translation before studying the map.
“It lies close enough to Daetosh for our supplies to reach it, while remaining far enough away that a battle would not endanger the town.”
Mortarion nodded.
“If we wait behind Daetosh’s walls, Hestar will choose where to camp, which roads to threaten and which farms to burn.
He could also send detachments south towards Freerider Gate while keeping the main army beyond our reach.”
Belarro looked between them.
“You intend to march towards Varos?”
“I intend to march three days towards Narra and make the Tyroshi travel the remaining distance to me.”
“That would leave Daetosh with a smaller garrison.”
“It will leave Daetosh with two thousand Unsullied, the local guard and walls strong enough to resist anything except the main Tyroshi host.
Hestar will not bypass five thousand soldiers and a dragon to besiege this town.”
Belarro’s expression suggested he was not entirely convinced.
Mortarion understood the magistrate’s concern.
Daetosh had survived by remaining beneath the protection of stronger powers.
Its people had little experience trusting a ruler willing to leave the walls and meet danger before it arrived.
Mortarion had no intention of allowing that caution to dictate strategy.
He looked towards the rider.
“You have done well.
You will be given food, a fresh horse and payment for the journey.
Before you rest, you will speak with my scribes and describe the companies you saw entering Varos.”
The man bowed deeply.
“Thank you, Master Mortarion.”
Guards led him from the chamber.
Mortarion turned towards Belarro.
“Summon every merchant who has travelled the western road during the last month.
I require information on bridges, wells and fields between Narra and Varos.
No rumour is too small to record, but every statement must be marked according to whether the speaker witnessed it personally.”
Belarro nodded.
“The merchants will be gathered before midday.”
Mortarion addressed Qavo next.
“You will remain available to translate during the military council.
Blue Bat and the senior officers cannot plan with the local guides if they cannot understand one another.”
Qavo inclined his head.
“I will ensure that every instruction is conveyed accurately.”
“Accuracy matters more than politeness.
The scholar accepted the warning.
Mortarion looked down at Narra.
The ruined town was not merely a point between Daetosh and Varos.
It offered an opportunity to choose the place where House Baraeris would fight its first true battle.
He intended to examine it before moving the army.
Anaxion carried him west before noon.
The dragon rose from the riverbank beyond Daetosh and followed the road cutting across the fields.
Mortarion wore Aurion’s armour for the flight, its black steel secured tightly around him while the wind pulled at his silver-white hair.
The new standard of House Baraeris streamed from a short pole attached behind the riding straps.
The silver sphinx appeared almost white beneath the sun, while green cloth marked its eyes and wing edges.
Anaxion noticed the movement but showed little interest.
The bond between dragon and rider continued to strengthen.
Mortarion no longer needed to combine every command with a complete image of the direction he desired.
Some words had become familiar enough that Anaxion responded to their sound and Mortarion’s posture.
Not every command was obeyed.
When a herd of wild horses appeared north of the road, Anaxion turned towards them despite Mortarion’s order to continue west.
Only after several attempts did the dragon return to the intended course.
Mortarion accepted the delay.
Anaxion was still learning.
Forcing the dragon through pain or restraint might produce quicker obedience, but it would weaken the bond holding them together.
Narra appeared beneath them before the afternoon had fully passed.
The town had once surrounded a low stone hill beside the western road.
A shallow river curved around its southern edge, crossed by a bridge whose centre had partially collapsed.
The northern side rested against rough ground covered by thorn bushes and exposed rock.
The position possessed natural strength.
An enemy approaching from Varos had to march between the river and the northern ridge unless it abandoned the road and moved across slower, uneven country.
The broken walls could anchor an infantry formation, while the surviving buildings offered shelter for supplies and wounded soldiers.
Mortarion directed Anaxion lower.
The dragon passed above the ruins, scattering goats and several shepherds who abandoned their animals without hesitation.
Blackened walls divided streets swallowed by grass.
The remains of a square stood near the hilltop, surrounded by roofless buildings and collapsed arches.
Mortarion saw two usable wells.
A third had been filled with rubble.
The old eastern gate had collapsed entirely, though much of the western wall remained standing at waist height or higher.
A stone granary near the river had lost its roof but retained thick walls.
Narra could not withstand a siege.
It did not need to.
Mortarion intended to use it as a fortified camp and battlefield rather than a permanent stronghold.
Anaxion landed outside the northern ruins.
The shepherds watched from a distant hillside as Mortarion descended.
He removed his helmet and approached the nearest well, drawing water with a bucket left beside it.
The water smelled clean.
Mortarion examined the surrounding ground on foot.
The western approach provided enough open space for thousands of soldiers to deploy.
Low stone boundaries divided abandoned fields, creating obstacles that could slow cavalry without preventing the Unsullied from forming.
The river protected the southern flank.
The rough northern ridge could be occupied by short-bow soldiers and scouts.
Any Tyroshi force attempting to move around it would be visible from above and forced away from the road.
The ruins themselves provided stone for breastworks.
Mortarion climbed the remains of the magistrate’s house and looked west.
The road continued between abandoned orchards before disappearing beyond low hills.
Hestar’s host would have to approach from that direction unless it undertook a longer march around Narra.
Anaxion rested within the old square.
The dragon’s body occupied much of the space, his wings extending across collapsed walls.
Mortarion felt approval through their bond.
The elevated ground gave Anaxion a clear view of every approach, and the surrounding countryside held enough wild animals to feed him without taking livestock from inhabited farms.
Mortarion returned to Daetosh before sunset.
The military council began that night.
Blue Bat and five senior Unsullied officers stood along one side of the map table.
They spoke among themselves in High Valyrian, while Qavo translated their statements for Belarro and the three local guides brought from the western road.
The process slowed the discussion, but Mortarion preferred delay to misunderstanding.
One guide claimed that the northern path around Narra could carry cavalry.
Another insisted the route became impassable after rain.
Qavo translated each answer before Mortarion required the men to explain precisely which section they meant.
Eventually, the disagreement became clear.
Light riders could use the path during dry weather.
Wagons and formed cavalry units could not.
Mortarion marked it accordingly.
Blue Bat pointed towards the western road.
“If Hestar marches directly from Varos, his scouts will reach Narra two or three days before the main host.
They will observe our numbers and report the condition of the ruins.”
“Let them,” Mortarion replied in High Valyrian.
“I want him to know five thousand Unsullied are waiting.
If he believes he can defeat us, he will continue forward.
If he fears us, his hesitation will weaken the Archon’s authority.”
Qavo translated for the locals.
Belarro looked troubled.
“What if he waits for reinforcements?”
“Then his six thousand soldiers consume grain while achieving nothing.
Tyrosh can hire more men, but hired men become expensive when kept idle.”
One of the local guides cleared his throat.
“Master Mortarion, sellswords may raid the nearby villages if their supplies run low.”
“That is why the villages west of Narra will be warned.
Grain that cannot be moved will be hidden or destroyed before the Tyroshi seize it.
Livestock will be driven east.”
The guide stared at him.
“Destroyed?”
“I would rather compensate a farmer for burned grain than feed the army marching to kill him.”
Belarro intervened carefully.
“The farmers may resist abandoning their homes.”
“They will be offered shelter near Daetosh and Narra.
Those who remain do so at their own risk, but no one will be forced east at spearpoint.”
Mortarion turned towards Blue Bat.
“I will take five thousand Unsullied.
Four thousand will carry spear and shield as usual.
Five hundred of the soldiers trained with short bows will occupy the northern ridge and ruined walls.
The remaining five hundred will serve as scouts, reserve files and labour units.”
Blue Bat nodded.
“How many wagons will accompany the army?”
“Enough for fifteen days of food, medical supplies and tools.
We remain only three days from Daetosh, so further provisions can travel under guard.”
“The soldiers can march within two days.”
“They will march tomorrow morning.”
Blue Bat looked towards Mortarion.
“That leaves less time to prepare.”
“It also places us at Narra before Tyroshi scouts decide to occupy it. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
The ruins matter because we reach them first.”
The Unsullied commander accepted the decision.
Mortarion continued issuing assignments.
Black Moth, one of the ten senior officers, would remain in command of Daetosh with two thousand Unsullied.
Local guards would continue manning the town’s inner streets, but the Unsullied retained control of the gates and towers.
Green Slug received a raven ordering him to hold Freerider Gate with his thousand soldiers.
He was not to march north unless Daetosh came under attack or Mortarion sent direct instructions.
The two thousand Unsullied at Corsair’s Bay would continue securing the fleet and rebuilding the harbour.
Mortarion had no intention of stripping every garrison merely to increase the army at Narra.
A realm that collapsed behind its ruler was not a realm.
After the local officials departed, Mortarion addressed the Unsullied officers directly in High Valyrian.
“This will be the first battle fought beneath the name Baraeris.
The enemy outnumbers the force I intend to take, and some among them have survived dragonfire in the Stepstones.
Do not mistake sellswords for untrained rabble, and do not assume Anaxion will break them before our spears are tested.”
The officers listened without movement.
Blue Bat answered for them.
“The soldiers will hold whatever ground you assign.”
“I know they will.
Your duty is to ensure they do more than hold.
I want the enemy observed, measured and forced to reveal how Hestar commands.
We will not rush into battle because Tyroshi banners appear upon the road.”
“When will you use Anaxion?” Blue Bat asked.
“When the enemy has committed enough men that scattering becomes costly.
If I burn their scouts and outriders too early, Hestar will learn to approach cautiously.
I would rather let him believe his veterans understand dragons.”
A small shift passed through the officers.
Mortarion had begun recognising their reactions despite the discipline concealing them.
The idea appealed to Blue Bat, though the commander would never show satisfaction openly.
“We will prepare Narra and wait,” Mortarion continued.
“Hestar has been ordered to remove us from the Disputed Lands.
Pride and fear of the Archon will bring him forward, even if caution tells him otherwise.”
The council ended after midnight.
Daetosh awoke to the sound of five thousand soldiers assembling beyond the western gate.
The Unsullied formed in dark ranks beneath the banners of House Baraeris.
Their armour remained plain and uniform, while long spears rose above circular shields.
The people gathered upon the walls to watch.
Many had begun to recognise the silver sphinx, though some still referred to it simply as Mortarion’s creature.
The name Baraeris had spread through the markets, spoken carefully by people uncertain whether the new house would endure long enough to matter.
Mortarion appeared wearing Aurion’s armour.
He addressed the army in High Valyrian.
“Tyrosh gathers six thousand soldiers at Varos.
Its Archon believes this realm can be ended before it takes root, and the men marching towards us believe Daetosh will raise another banner as soon as they appear.”
His voice carried across the silent ranks.
“They will not reach these walls.
We will meet them at Narra, where the ruins of an abandoned town will become the first ground defended by House Baraeris.”
The Unsullied remained motionless, but their attention fixed entirely upon him.
“You will march with discipline, purchase what you require and leave every settlement stronger than you found it.
The people of these lands will judge our rule before they ever swear loyalty to it.
They must learn that our arrival brings order, while the arrival of Tyrosh brings hunger and fire.”
Mortarion drew Dreaded Deliverance.
The dark Valyrian steel reflected the morning light.
“When Hestar reaches Narra, he will discover that House Baraeris does not surrender its borders every fortnight.”
Spears struck shields in a single controlled blow.
The sound rolled across the road and fields.
Mortarion returned the sword to its scabbard.
The march began.
Five thousand Unsullied moved west in organised columns, followed by supply wagons and local guides.
Scouts travelled ahead and along both flanks.
Short-bow soldiers marched near the centre, their weapons protected from dust beneath wrapped cloth.
Mortarion rode Anaxion above the army for part of each day.
From the sky, he examined the roads leading north and south, searching for Tyroshi scouts.
Several riders appeared during the second afternoon, watching from a distant ridge before withdrawing west.
Mortarion allowed them to leave.
He wanted Varos to know where he waited.
The army reached Narra on the third day.
Unsullied formations entered the ruins without disorder.
Labour units immediately cleared rubble from the wells, granary and central square.
Soldiers rebuilt sections of the western wall to chest height and created protected positions for the short-bow units along the northern ridge.
The broken bridge across the southern river was made passable for messengers but remained too narrow for a large formation to use quickly.
Stone boundaries in the western fields were reinforced rather than removed.
Gaps wide enough for infantry files were marked, while likely cavalry routes were obstructed with stakes and shallow trenches.
Blue Bat inspected every position beside Mortarion.
They spoke in High Valyrian without translators now that no local officials accompanied them.
“The enemy can move around the northern ridge,” Blue Bat said, “although doing so will separate its cavalry from the road and wagons.”
“Place scouts beyond it and prepare two hundred men to refuse the path.
They do not need to hold forever.
They only need to warn us and slow whatever moves there.”
“The southern river is shallow farther west.”
“I saw the crossings from Anaxion.
Hestar may send men across during the night.
Double the patrols and place concealed watchers along both banks.”
Blue Bat looked towards the open western ground.
“Will the army form outside the walls?”
“When the enemy arrives, yes.
The ruins will protect our camp and supplies, but I will not allow Hestar to trap us inside broken stone.”
They climbed to the roofless magistrate’s house.
The standard of House Baraeris had been raised above its highest surviving wall.
The silver sphinx faced west, its green accents visible whenever the cloth caught the light.
Below, five thousand Unsullied transformed Narra.
Tents filled the old streets.
Wagons formed barriers around the granary.
Engineers cleared lines of sight and marked assembly areas.
The ruined town, abandoned for years, once again held an army.
A raven arrived from Daetosh near sunset on the fourth day.
The message had travelled through merchants and scouts along the western road.
Varos now held an estimated six thousand soldiers.
Its stores were prepared, its companies had received partial payment, and Serro Hestar had ordered the army to march within two days.
Beyond the darkening hills, Tyroshi veterans and sellswords prepared to advance beneath the Archon’s banners.
They expected to march through frightened settlements, remove an unknown ruler and restore the old borders before House Baraeris became more than a name.
Narra stood between them and Daetosh.
Mortarion had brought five thousand Unsullied to ensure they came no farther.
Anaxion rested within the ruined square, his dark green scales nearly black beneath the evening sky.
Smoke escaped slowly from his jaws as he sensed the anticipation moving through Mortarion.
The dragon understood that prey approached.
Mortarion placed one hand upon the damaged western wall.
House Baraeris possessed no ancient victories for singers to remember and no line of dead warriors carved into the stone of a family castle.
Its history would begin here.
Among the ruins of Narra, Mortarion waited for Tyrosh to give him his first battle.