The storm proved every bit as fierce as Corlys had warned…
and every bit as fleeting though.
By the following morning, the black clouds had begun to break apart, revealing patches of blue sky where only hours earlier thunder had ruled the heavens.
The sea remained rough for another day, great swells still tossing the fleet from side to side, but the worst had passed.
Torn sails were replaced, snapped rigging repaired, and damaged cargo accounted for with the efficiency expected of Velaryon sailors.
Most importantly, no lives had been lost.
The missing ships remained absent for several days, leaving Aethon uncertain whether they had weathered the storm or vanished beneath it.
He refused to dwell upon possibilities beyond his control, choosing instead to continue the voyage as planned.
Ten days after leaving Driftmark behind, the white marble skyline of Lys finally emerged from the morning mist.
The city glistened beneath the rising sun with elegant towers climbed toward the heavens, their domes plated in polished copper and colored glass that shimmered brilliantly whenever sunlight struck them.
Broad harbors stretched along the coastline, crowded with vessels flying banners from every corner of the known world.
Merchant galleys from Pentos rested beside sleek Myrish traders, while heavier cogs from Westeros unloaded timber, wool, and grain onto bustling stone quays.
Even from the deck of his flagship, Aethon could hear the city before he truly saw it.
Hundreds of voices rang out near the docks, these were dockworkers shouting orders and merchants haggling over prices, there was also the ringing of distant bells and creaking of cranes lifting cargo from ships.
It was a city that never seemed to fall silent even for once. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
As their fleet entered the harbor, Ser Alester stepped beside him and pointed toward the eastern docks saying “My lord, over there.”
Aethon followed his gaze and moored safely against the quay, were the three missing Velaryon ships.
A faint smile crossed his face as he said “So they made it.
They appear to have arrived days before us.”
He allowed himself a quiet breath of relief since he had expected experienced sailors to survive.
It was still satisfying to see proof.
The flagship eased gently against the dock, thick mooring lines thrown ashore before dozens of dockworkers hurried to secure them.
Moments later, the gangplank was lowered and Aethon stepped onto Lys once again.
This was his third visit actually, the first had been little more than a childhood journey accompanying Corlys, during which the city’s beauty had captivated him far more than anything.
The second had been entirely different and was more of a business trip.
Anyway now his third visit carried much the same purpose.
He hadn’t crossed the Narrow Sea for sightseeing, he had come to build something that belonged solely to him this time, and definitely not for Corlys, this made him think ‘Corlys may think he’s in my good graces, but I’ll make sure to deal with him along with Rhaenys, for now I have to get enough power to deal with the fall out.’
His eyes wandered briefly across the crowded harbor before a single thought surfaced, this thought was also influenced by the harsh conditions of the seas, he thought of a comfortable stemming bath.
A proper meal would also be welcome.
He was still contemplating both when servants began unloading crates, barrels, treasures and heavy iron-bound chests from the ships.
Wagons lined the docks waiting to receive them, each carefully organized under the watchful eyes of Velaryon guards.
Aethon remained nearby, quietly overseeing the process.
That was when Ser Alester subtly shifted his stance saying “My lord.”
Aethon looked up from the scroll he held and three separate groups were making their way across the docks.
Each was dressed considerably better than the average merchant, accompanied by liveried servants whose clothing alone hinted at considerable wealth.
This was an interesting because he didn’t expect them to move so quick, especially since he just arrived.
The first group reached them before the others.
Without needing instruction, Ser Alester stepped smoothly between Aethon and the approaching strangers, his hand never reached for his sword though.
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