"Four dragons?" Old Aemon was stunned.
Dany lifted her cloak, pulled out the warm red dragon egg from her pocket, and smiled at the old man. "The other two are guarding Slaver's Bay for me. And it won't be long before there are five."
"This..." The old man stared at the dragon egg, its surface covered with fine red scales, utterly speechless.
"Is it about to hatch?" Aemon's voice was dry and raspy.
"In about a week, I think."
"So soon?" Ser Barristan, standing nearby, was surprised. "The last time, that golden dragon took almost ten months. This egg has been with you for less than twenty days, and it's already about to hatch?"
"It needed ten months?" Old Aemon gave a bitter laugh. "Aegon just threw his dragon egg into wildfire without wasting even a day."
Yes, Aemon's younger brother, Aegon V — Dany's great-grandfather — was the one responsible for the tragedy at Summerhall.
Aegon had gathered seven dragon eggs, several priests of the Faith of the Seven, alchemists (fire mages), and a large stock of wildfire to hatch dragons at Summerhall.
What exactly happened that night remains unclear even to the maesters. Some believe there was a rebellion; others attribute it to wildfire getting out of control.
In any case, not only were the precious seven dragon eggs lost, but Aegon himself, along with his eldest son and daughter-in-law (Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstones), perished in the fire.
Coincidentally, on the very day that the "First Generation Betrothal Breaker" met his tragic end, the "Second Generation Betrothal Breaker," Rhaegar, was born.
Yes, Rhaegar was born on the night of the Summerhall fire — in fact, he was born right there at Summerhall, for Queen Rhaella had also been attending the dragon-hatching ritual.
Even more coincidentally, not long after the death of the Second Generation Betrothal Breaker, the "Third Generation Betrothal Breaker," Robb Stark, was born.
Was this some sort of relay race?
Or, like the reincarnation cycle of Indra and Asura, is the "soul that defies sacred marriage vows" continually reborn?
Who, then, could be the "Fourth Generation Betrothal Breaker"?
Well, the candidate would need to come from a prominent family — at least the level of one of the Seven Great Houses.
The North is out, House Targaryen is out (Dany's child was born before Robb's death), the Riverlands are questionable... It seems Edmure Tully (Lord of Riverrun and Duke of the Trident, Robb's uncle, currently imprisoned in Casterly Rock by Jaime) had a son born just after Robb's death...
Shaking her head, Dany cast away these bizarre thoughts and said, "The four previous dragon eggs all came from Asshai — all fossilized. This red egg once belonged to House Targaryen. It was lost about two and a half centuries ago, and the embryo inside still retains some vitality."
While Aemon pondered, she asked, "Old man, do you know how the Braavosi came to possess this egg back then?"
"Braavos?"
"Yes, they were preparing to send the egg to the Valyrians, which means Braavos must have had more than one egg."
"Two and a half centuries ago?" Old Aemon mused.
"That's what the Braavosi said."
"I see... I understand now!"
Outside, the wind whipped up snowflakes at the door. The old maester shivered and tugged at his cloak. Dany immediately rose from the stone steps and led him to the fireplace inside the King's Tower.
After drinking the hot milk handed to him by Barristan, the old maester sighed, "Ah, I'm getting old. Back at the Wall, I could spend a whole night stargazing, utterly unaware of the cold."
"Do you know of Princess Rhaena?"
"Uh, there were several Rhaenas. Which one do you mean?"
"The granddaughter of Aegon the Conqueror, the eldest daughter of King Aenys I, and the sister of the Old King, Jaehaerys I."
"Oh, her." Dany suddenly understood.
That Rhaena was indeed a legendary (and eccentric) princess — a social butterfly whose number of husbands, best friends, and companions was astounding.
"Princess Rhaena had a close friend named Elissa, from House Farman of Fair Isle. They were very close, but Elissa loved the sea and dreamed of becoming an explorer, venturing across the Sunset Sea. Rhaena, however, couldn't bear to let her go, believing it would tear their bond apart.
Not long after, Elissa still chose to leave, but not before stealing three dragon eggs from Princess Rhaena.
Looking back now, Elissa likely sold the eggs to the Braavosi to fund her ship and her voyage across the Sunset Sea.
At the time, King Jaehaerys even secretly ordered a general mobilization, prepared to launch a dragon war the moment anyone outside the Targaryen family hatched a dragon.
This incident was recorded in the Royal Library's History of House Targaryen. Several kings after Jaehaerys also remained vigilant about it."
The old man sighed deeply and smiled bitterly. "As expected, what must come will come. After 250 years, Your Majesty has finally found it."
"Three dragon eggs in exchange for one ship — there's no greater extravagance than that." A cold glint flashed in Dany's eyes as she sneered. "But I fear that Elissa was also used. The Braavosi's desire for dragons far exceeds your imagination.
Even at the Citadel, I encountered a Faceless Man — he arrived in Westeros at least three years ago, before I even hatched my dragons!
He stole the Seneschal's keys and infiltrated the library, searching specifically for knowledge about dragons, especially how to hatch them.
I even suspect he had already scouted the Alchemists' Guild and the Royal Library before that."
"This..." Old Aemon's wrinkled face tightened with worry. "Even the Faceless Men are involved? The Braavosi are determined to have dragons!"
"I guessed that everyone in the world desired dragons, but I never expected the Braavosi to make their move two hundred years ago, back when the Targaryens had over a dozen dragons!"
Dany shook her head and sighed, "It's probably because the Targaryens kept hatching dragons — from just three, they bred eighteen dragons in only a few decades."
"I can even understand their concerns. Forget eighteen dragons — even if only half of them formed a squad of dragonriders, they could sweep through the Nine Free Cities and restore Valyria's golden age of world domination.
Only dragons can counter dragons. It's no wonder the Braavosi struck preemptively — in fact, it was a very wise and decisive move."
"We never intended to rule the world," old Maester Aemon muttered.
"And that's precisely what 'heaven grants but does not take, yet invites disaster' means."
Dany gave a bitter smile and asked the old maester, "I've always had a question. For the sake of a mere Iron Throne, the Targaryens didn't hesitate to launch the Dance of the Dragons.
But why did our foolish ancestors never think to ride their dragons to the neighboring continent of Essos, seize a piece of land, and build their own Iron Throne there?"
"I don't know. Perhaps we had already been assimilated by this continent, fully seeing ourselves as Westerosi, unwilling to leave our homeland," the old man said, giving Dany a meaningful look. "They were different from you. You grew up wandering outside, so your feelings toward the Red Keep, King's Landing, and the Seven Kingdoms probably aren't as deep."
"It's not about the depth of feelings," Dany shook her head. "For the family, the Iron Throne could support at most three dragons: one for the king, one for the queen, and one for the heir.
Any extra dragons, if not sent away, would inevitably lead to internal strife. On the contrary, if the Targaryens had spread their branches across the world, even if usurpations were unavoidable, the family would not face extinction.
As for Westeros itself, the fewer players there are in the game of thrones, the better. When the Targaryens and the great dukes are busy fighting, it's always the common folk who suffer. Just look at the devastated Seven Kingdoms after the War of the Four Kings."
"Daenerys, you are wiser and more compassionate than us, and even more so than any Targaryen before you. As players of the game of thrones, they never even saw the common people, trampled into the mud."
Old Aemon looked at Dany, his expression complicated — a mix of relief, sorrow, and a glimmer of hope for the future.
Knock knock knock — Jon's voice called from outside the door, "Maester Aemon, Your Grace, a raven has arrived from Shadow Tower."
Barristan Selmy rose from the wooden chair padded with furs and opened the oak door, letting Jon in, a light dusting of snow on his head.
"You're still keeping watch at the door?" the White Knight asked.
Jon shook the white snow off his black woolen cloak and said casually, "With two dragons for company, it's not exactly lonely. Most people don't even get a chance to see a real dragon!"
Barristan gave him a strange look. "You're bold. After seeing the dragons burn wildlings this afternoon, you're still not the least bit afraid."
Jon simply smiled, not mentioning the strange excitement he actually felt. He walked straight to the fireplace and handed a thumb-thick parchment scroll to Maester Aemon.
The old maester opened it and read for a moment, then frowned, "Commander Bowen Marsh encountered a force of three hundred wildlings led by the Crying Man at Skulls Bridge. Although the enemy was repelled, we lost over a hundred brothers. Commander Marsh himself was severely wounded and is currently being treated at Shadow Tower."
Bowen Marsh had originally served as the First Steward of the Night's Watch. After the Old Bear's death and before a new Lord Commander was chosen, he was appointed acting Lord Commander.
"Where is Skulls Bridge?" Dany asked with a frown.
"In the Great Gorge beyond the Wall."
"They fell into a trap, didn't they? Moving the main force away from Castle Black, abandoning the defensive advantage of the Wall to fight wildlings in the open." Dany sighed.
"Yes. Mance Rayder sent small groups to harass the eastern and western ends of the Wall. To prevent wildlings from climbing over and raiding the North, Commander Marsh had no choice but to lead men to clear them out.
The Wall is too long, and the Watch too few. Fully monitoring 500 kilometers is impossible. By tradition, proactive attacks are more effective and less exhausting than passive defense," Maester Aemon explained.
"Heh, even knowing the King Beyond the Wall is Mance Rayder, and that he's intimately familiar with the Watch's combat habits, you still stick to old traditions?
If not for Qhorin Halfhand's quick thinking, Jon Snow's loyalty, and Ygritte's deep love for him — if not for all these nearly impossible coincidences happening at once — the wildlings would have already crossed the Wall and ravaged the North." Dany shook her head and chuckled softly.
In her eyes, the war between Mance Rayder and the Night's Watch was nothing more than a battle of clumsy amateurs.
The Night's Watch, starting from old Jeor Mormont, had committed several fatal mistakes in succession; meanwhile, Mance Rayder, though commanding a large army, failed to forge a proper, disciplined force.
Of course, that wasn't Mance Rayder's fault.
His situation was very similar to Dany's own — a wildling child, raised by the Night's Watch, trained as a ranger, but never properly educated in formal military strategy.
Indeed, the Night's Watch trained soldiers, but their officers always came from noble families of the Seven Kingdoms.
(End of Chapter)
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