"Targaryens, their word is law!"
Aegon remembered his aunt saying this.
So, on the fourth day, he did not go looking for Big Black.
But after leaving Big Black alone for a day, on the fifth day he could no longer resist. He went again and said: Big Black, look, I too have the mark of a Paladin now.
Big Black was, after all, still a child.
After being pestered so relentlessly, he finally lost patience.
He broke his mother's instructions to stay silent and indifferent toward Aegon, and for the first time roared in anger:
"Get out..........."
The dragon's breath sent Aegon's hair flying, his face turned pale, his stiff body nearly collapsed, and his head was spinning.
He did not even know how he left the rooftop garden.
After resting a day, on the seventh, despite the Dragon Queen's repeated attempts to dissuade him, Aegon insisted on becoming a Paladin of honor—that is, a dragonrider.
"I can finally understand how you felt that day. It's like being reborn!"
Having completed the bond, Aegon was exhilarated, riding on the back of the wyvern as he shouted to the little dwarf beside him, who looked much smaller in comparison.
Yes, Tyrion was riding Tessa, preparing to take Aegon on his first trial flight around Slaver's Bay.
"Your Highness, once you take off, you'll experience a second rebirth. It feels nothing like riding a horse—more like having the whole world beneath you.
If I had to choose between a woman and Tessa to spend my life with, I'd choose Tessa without hesitation.
Of course, riding dragons by day and women by night is even better, hahahaha!" Tyrion laughed smugly.
And indeed, he wasn't exaggerating. Departing Astapor in the morning, landing in Meereen by noon, he spent the night in pleasure, and by the next morning he was back again.
But the dwarf only indulged once. The very next day, he received a mission and set out on business.
He was not sent to the jungles of Sothoryos to search for wyvern nests.
Instead, he retraced Daenerys's westward path to Westeros, flying across the Long Summer Lands, over Volantis, across the Narrow Sea, and landing more than six thousand kilometers away at the Stepstones.
Because, after drifting at sea for more than three months, the first group of twelve thousand wildlings had finally arrived at Queen's Point.
Tyrion's journey had two purposes: first, to take the fire mage Bogba to Volantis and persuade Tam and Bu Cheng to pledge loyalty to the Dragon Queen; second, to select a few skinchangers from among the wildlings and bring them back to Slaver's Bay.
Bogba, the gaunt fire mage, was only a street performer in Volantis. Unlike someone like Lisbon, hailed as the "first of the Eastern youth," he was not widely known.
But Bogba knew Tam.
And Daenerys had long considered recruiting Tam and Bu Cheng, her old friends, to aid her.
As for skinchangers, the more the better.
Tyrion had volunteered for this mission.
The daily routine of supervising wildfire production and raiding merchant ships in the Straits of the Free Maid had grown far too monotonous. He longed to personally experience "greeting the dawn in mist, and resting in distant lands at dusk."
However, he set forth two conditions: first, that Big Black would escort him and Tessa across the Long Summer Lands; second, that if the dragonriders lost in battle, the Dragon Queen would allow him to surrender to the enemy.
Yes, the fool still dreamed of living comfortably in an allied prisoner camp, enjoying the treatment of a Westerosi lord.
But in truth, should he surrender, the allies probably wouldn't kill him.
In this world, killing noble prisoners was deeply taboo. Even against slavers, the Dragon Queen seldom resorted to brutality: she first sent them to hard labor, then held grand trials after the war.
Fortunately, Tyrion did not encounter any enemy dragonriders.
The allies had only a few dozen wyverns. After stationing garrisons at Mantarys, Tolos, and New Ghis, their strength was stretched thin. Adding escort squadrons, they simply had no ability to patrol the vast skies of the Long Summer Lands.
In fact, Xaro had already captured over thirty wyvern riders, retrained them, and put them back into service.
Which meant that the Dragon Queen's spy network was already proving effective.
After dropping off Bogba outside Volantis, Tyrion did not linger. He continued west.
Compared to Big Black, who could fly out at dawn and arrive by dusk, Tessa needed two days and two nights.
Even so, when he finally reached Queen's Point and saw the true dragon banners fluttering over the camp below, Tyrion was filled with emotion.
Back then, it had taken him more than half a year to travel from King's Landing all the way to Slaver's Bay. Now it had taken only two days.
"No wonder the Valyrians could rule the world! Perhaps the Dragon Queen truly can establish an unprecedented Targaryen world empire." he thought with mixed feelings.
"Dragons, dragons, long live the Dragon Queen, long live Big Black!"
Suddenly, countless people rushed out from the manor houses below, gathering in the wide threshing ground, waving and cheering at the wyverns in the sky.
"The black dragon looks different. It's larger, its wings are broader, and even its color has turned dung-green."
On the ground, among the welcoming crowd, "Shieldbreaker" Thoren shaded his eyes and muttered doubtfully as he stared at the dragon's shadow under the blazing sun.
"That's not the black dragon," grumbled the Sea Walrus.
"Hey, remember what the Queen's Hand told us at the meeting a few days ago? The Dragon Queen would send dragonriders to fetch Eagle-Howl, Wolf-Eye, and the other skinchangers," Harley said.
This Harley was not Daenerys's former shield-bearer "Hunter Harley" (whose thin little face had been skewered on an Other's ice sword like a candied hawthorn back in Chapter 328), but his son, "Long-Face" Little Harley.
He had inherited his father's positions as clan chief and leader of a thousand.
The other two men were also wildling chieftains of a thousand, who had followed the Dragon Queen beyond the Wall in the great battle against the Others.
Now, they had been promoted from centurions to commanders of a thousand, holding authority over several thousand wildlings, and were counted as leaders under the Queen's banner.
A deep "Wooooo—" echoed. Following the custom of the Night's Watch, a horn blast signaled the arrival of allies.
In the center of the village, Tyrion spotted a two-story marble building and guessed it must be Barristan's quarters.
So he guided Tessa down to land by the fountain in the square.
Barristan looked much the same as ever: a smoke-black iron helm, white-enameled plate, and a spotless, wide wool cloak.
For a moment, Tyrion felt dazed.
It was the first time he had seen the old knight in four years.
The last time they had met was before Robert's journey north to Winterfell.
"Ser, it has been many years. You are still so vigorous, your presence even more impressive than before," Tyrion said, sliding down from the leathery wing with deep emotion.
This was not entirely flattery. Though four years older, the old knight was still full of vigor. His appearance had changed little, and in spirit he seemed even more radiant.
"You, however, have changed a great deal." Ser Barristan scrutinized the dwarf with a critical eye.
Green helm, green armor, green cloak—all emblazoned at the chest and mantle with a golden roaring lion's head.
Across his face ran a savage scar from the corner of his mouth to his brow, and his nose was gone, leaving only two black hollow pits.
Ugly, perfectly suited to his infamous reputation.
An unclean soul deserved a demon's grotesque visage.
Yet beside him stood a colossal beast forty meters long and two stories tall.
What was the Queen thinking, to make such a man a proud dragon-rider?
The thought of sharing service with a kinslayer, regicide, and patricide made Barristan deeply uneasy.
Compared with that, having the dishonored Great Bear as his sworn brother suddenly seemed less intolerable.
"Wow! So that's a dragon? Enormous—and magnificent!"
Tyrion turned and saw a petite young woman, about one-and-a-half meters tall, barely past twenty, with olive skin, wide black eyes sparkling with wonder, and a head of glossy black curls.
Though small, she was well-shaped—beautiful and alluring.
"Her name is Tessa, my partner," Tyrion said, his eyes gleaming, grinning mischievously. "You're not mistaken, she is magnificent, but her rider is ten times braver."
"Is that so?" The little woman smiled coyly. "May I touch her?"
"You may touch both dragon and rider—"
"Ahem." Barristan shot Tyrion a stern glare. "Tyrion, this is Princess Arianne of Dorne."
"Ah!" Tyrion's eyes lit up brighter still. He bowed deeply. "Your Highness, your beauty outshines even the sun itself. To say nothing of touching her—if you wish, I could take you on a flight."
Arianne's expression showed she was tempted.
Barristan frowned. "Business first."
They entered the stone hall, where Barristan introduced Tyrion to several wildling commanders and a dozen skinchangers among the ranks.
"Forget skinchangers—so long as the Dragon Queen commands it, we'll sail to Slaver's Bay and fight her wars," boasted Small Halle, thumping his chest.
"The Dragon Queen keeps her promises. As soon as we arrived, we were granted houses and land. The freedfolk keep their word as well. We call her 'Queen of the Free,' and every one of us will follow her into fire and death without hesitation!" said Big Walrus solemnly.
"One command, and we'll march into fire and death!" roared the wildling captains and skinchangers, their faces red with fervor.
Barristan's expression did not change, but Arianne's eyes brimmed with shock and disbelief.
Tyrion, however, was unruffled. It was his first time seeing wildlings from beyond the Wall, but their reaction struck him as familiar. Like Barristan, he remained calm.
After all, following the Dragon Queen for so long, they had seen this kind of scene many times before.
Slaves always reacted with the same fanatical devotion when facing the Queen.
"Slaver's Bay is too far, and the Long Night is coming. We should stick to the plan and focus on planting winter wheat and sweet potatoes," Barristan said, shaking his head.
"Ah, it's so hot here I nearly forgot it was deep winter!" Big Walrus tugged his long beard and exclaimed.
"This land is wonderful—warmer than beyond the Wall, and far more fertile."
"Indeed! At the Wall, I hadn't tasted a sweet apple in months. Here, the fruits are so plentiful I'm sick of them."
"And the people here are kinder."
"Kinder?" Tyrion's mouth twitched. "Didn't the Tyroshi already march to wipe you out once?"
Tens of thousands of wildlings had settled across two hundred kilometers of Tyroshi territory. It would have been strange if the Tyroshi hadn't reacted.
In truth, they had known long before that the Dragon Queen was bringing wildlings into the Disputed Lands.
It could not be hidden.
The Northerners near the Wall knew, the Braavosi knew.
The fleet sailing south along the Narrow Sea had taken on water and fruit at Widow's Watch in the North, Gulltown in the Vale, Dragonstone, and elsewhere. Many had seen them.
The Tyroshi had even sent their fleet to intercept.
But with the navies of Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys drawn off to fight in the great world war of Slaver's Bay, the remnants were no match for the Dragon Queen's royal fleet.
So Tyrosh had dispatched five thousand foot and horse to march south and strike at the wildling villages.
The army never set out. They were discovered beforehand by the skinchangers' animal companions.
(End of chapter)
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