When Aeron Targaryen returned to White Harbor, the sun had already climbed over the harbor’s masts.
Twelve men were either sitting or lying in the shadows of the warehouse, dozing.
Brandon was guarding the door and opened his eyes the moment he heard footsteps.
Seeing it was Aeron, his tense shoulders relaxed.
“My lord.” Brandon stood up and lowered his voice.
“Everything is quiet.”
Aeron nodded, his gaze sweeping across the warehouse.
The air was filled with the smell of sweat, stale fish, and anxiety.
He walked to the center of the warehouse, not sitting down, just standing.
Everyone was awake, or pretending to be.
Twelve pairs of eyes looked at him.
“Are you all fed?” Aeron asked.
Brandon nodded: “As you ordered, I bought bread, salted fish, and watered-down wine.
There is still some money left.”
“Keep it,” Aeron said.
“It will be useful after the deed is done.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over each face.
The scarred man, the stocky one, and the other ten—he could now barely recognize a few of them.
One was missing half an ear, one was missing two fingers, and another had a burn scar on his face.
They were all men who risked their lives on the docks to earn a meal.
“Tonight,” Aeron began, his voice not loud, but chillingly clear in the deathly silent warehouse, “we are going to do something.”
Everyone sat up straight.
“The Greens have an intelligence chief in White Harbor called Crows Eye,” Aeron continued.
“Tomorrow, he will be at ‘Seal Rock’—that reef area east of the harbor—waiting for my decision.”
He noticed some exchanging glances.
Fear, but also a hint of excitement.
These men were not afraid of danger, only afraid of having no money.
“What we are going to do,” Aeron said, “is not to meet, nor to negotiate.”
He took out the rough sketch of the coastline from his bosom and spread it on the ground.
Twelve heads crowded around.
“We are going to ‘Seal Rock’ ahead of time tonight.” Aeron’s finger pointed to the location of the reef area, “Not to ambush, but to—make some preparations.”
The scarred man frowned: “Prepare what?”
Aeron took a small cloth bag out of his pack and untied it.
Inside were several bundles of black twine, some iron hooks of various sizes, and a few fist-sized objects wrapped in oil paper.
The iron hooks need to be sharpened and tied in hidden spots on the rocks.
And these—”
He carefully opened an oil paper package.
Inside was a greyish-white powder with a pungent odor.
“Quicklime,” Aeron said.
“Mixed with fine sand and packed into thin leather bags.
If you smash it hard against something solid, or if it hits water, it will burst.
If it gets in your eyes, you’ll go blind.”
The warehouse was dead silent.
Everyone stared at those things as if looking at poisonous snakes.
“We won’t use knives or swords,” Aeron’s voice was cold.
“We are going to make ‘Seal Rock’ a…
rather uncomfortable place.”
The stocky man swallowed hard: “My lord, are you trying to…”
“I want them to think that another group has their eyes on me.” Aeron raised his head, his purple eyes glowing in the dim light, “It could be people from Driftmark, it could be some smuggler looking to double-cross, or it could…
just be an ‘accident’.”
He looked at the group: “What you need to do is to place these things in key positions in the reef area before the high tide tonight.
The tide will cover most of the traces, but the items will remain there.
When the tide goes out tomorrow at noon, they will be exposed—just in time for the meeting.”
Brandon was the first to understand: “You don’t want a direct confrontation.
You want Crows Eye’s men to fall into chaos themselves.”
“In a direct confrontation, we would die,” Aeron said.
“But if we make Crows Eye think that besides them and us, there is a third pair of eyes watching ‘Seal Rock’…
what will they do?”
The man missing an ear grinned: “They will first investigate who is playing tricks.
They will suspect Driftmark, suspect The Blacks, suspect all possible enemies.”
“Correct,” Aeron nodded.
“And investigating takes time.
Suspicion leads to distraction.
When they are distracted—”
He paused, his finger tracing an arc on the chart, from ‘Seal Rock’ pointing toward the White Harbor docks:
“—that is our chance.”
“What chance?” the scarred man asked.
“The Hand of the King has more than one informant in White Harbor besides Crows Eye,” Aeron said, taking out the intelligence given by the old seahorse steward.
Tomorrow at noon, when ‘Crows Eye’ and his main force are held up by the ‘accident’ at ‘Seal Rock’…”
He looked at Brandon: “We are going to raid their homes.”
A gasp sounded in the warehouse.
Then came low laughter, like wolves grinding their teeth.
“Split into two groups,” Aeron began to assign tasks, “Brandon, take six men and be responsible for the setup at ‘Seal Rock’.
Remember—hide the items well, clean up the traces, and you must return before dawn.”
Brandon nodded heavily.
“The remaining six, come with me.” Aeron looked at the scarred man and the stocky man, “We are going to scout their other two strongholds in the city.
Not to attack, just to watch—to see how many people there are, when they change shifts, and if there are any back doors.”
“And then?” the stocky man asked.
“Then we wait,” Aeron said, “Wait for tomorrow noon, when ‘Crows Eye’ goes to ‘Seal Rock’, wait until his attention is occupied.
At that time—”
He drew that dagger of valyrian steel and stuck it into the ground.
“—we go and root them out completely.
As for their property, it will all be yours.”
No one spoke.
But Aeron could see that the greed in their eyes had already overwhelmed their fear.
This was not a suicide mission; it was a planned raid.
“Any questions?” Aeron asked.
The scarred man shook his head first, then the stocky man, and then everyone shook their heads.
“Very good.” Aeron put away the map and those ‘trinkets,’ “Now, eat, and rest.
We leave after dark.”
He walked to the corner of the warehouse and sat down against the wall.
Brandon followed and sat down beside him.
“My lord,” the giant lowered his voice, “do you really think…
this will work?”
“I don’t know.” Aeron was honest, “But this is the only chance.
Otto Hightower is forcing me to take a stand, House Manderly is watching from the sidelines, and the fleet from Driftmark might already be on its way.
We must flip the chessboard before they can react.”
“And after you flip it?”
“After…” Aeron looked at the sky over the harbor outside the broken warehouse window, “After, we will make everyone see that the one who flips the chessboard is qualified to set new rules.”
Brandon was silent for a long time, then said: “My grandfather once said, true dragons do not fear packs of wolves, because the dragon is in the sky, and the wolf is on the ground.”
“Your grandfather was very wise.” Aeron closed his eyes, “Rest.
Tonight will be very busy.”