Domeric XIV

Domeric was getting real tired of this! His son was starting to walk and talk, and he'd just finished demobilizing the last of his soldiers when Arya sent word from the Dreadport.

Fuck! Fuck! He wanted to scream! King Stannis was MIA, probably dead, and their enemy had a dragon. Why did it always have to be him?

Well, there was nothing left to do but kiss his girls goodbye and get back in the saddle. They might have to call a great council after this since Princess Shireen was nowhere to be found as well, but he couldn't think about that just yet. This one-eyed man, who most were saying was Euron Greyjoy, had to be dealt with first. The Iron Islands were really his least favorite part of Westeros. The North>Dorne>The rest>Iron Islands in his view. Last he heard, that dwarf lord was improving the place somewhat, so maybe they could catch up to "the rest" in this lifetime.

Lord Stark was kind enough to let him have Robb, and, most importantly, Robb's wolf. With Dany supplying aerial recon, Nymeria and Grey Wind for scouts and early warning, there was really no way they could get surprised. Trusting in speed, the force Domeric took down the Neck was all mounted: heavy lancers with their squires, men-at-arms, and longbows who would fight dismounted but had horses to take them from place to place. The weather was crazy and unpredictable, driving rain one day, then snow flurries, then bright sunshine. Make up your mind! Didn't the Singer say something about balance? Well, maybe having each day of the week with different weather was a sort of balance, but Domeric hoped that wasn't what she meant. The Kingsroad was a wallow, and every day they lost pulling cartwheels out of the mud was a day Euron Greyjoy was free to do who knows what.

The Twins had some vital intel, and Lord Walder was pretty openhanded with food and supplies, but he had few swords to join with them.

"Sent my knights south when Lady Cat called the banners," the old man explained at dinner. "A few of them have staggered back, but not many."

Oh, that was really bad. "Is my mother all right?" Robb asked worriedly. The wolves seemed worried as well. As a favor to Domeric, the Lord of the Crossing allowed them in the hall. Nepotism was a powerful thing.

The old man shrugged. "Who knows? There was a battle on the Red Fork, my lads say. Blackfish led them. They held for a while, but then that white dragon came and burned them up like it was the field of fire. Those Unsullied have no fear; they will fight to the death for their master without balking. Hosteen says they wouldn't break and maintained their formation no matter what, like fighting stone statues."

That changed things. Domeric had a pretty good command of the military logic of this world. Soften up the enemy formation with arrowfire and clashes with your own infantry, then smash your heavy horse into their flank and they go running. Might not work this time.

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"You are sure it was a white dragon?" Dany asked.

"So they tell me, girl. Heh. White dragon, black dragon, it's almost like the days of the Blackfyre pretenders."

"The Blackfyre rebellions were red dragons against black dragons, Father," Ser Stevron Frey, the heir to the Twins, pointed out.

"I know that!" Lord Walder snapped. "I was there, a little boy, for the second rising, if you can believe it. Old Lord Rivers nipped that one in the bud. In the third, I was a squire. Missed the fourth, though. That one didn't last so long, I recall. Now, what other news do you have for my goodson?"

Domeric smiled. "Am I your goodson? Your granddaughter is my wife. I don't know if there is a word for that."

The old man grunted. "Close enough, I'd say. Lady Cat doesn't dare piss down on me near as much as old Hoster, I'll tell you that. If I'd known a Northern match would do so much for my house, I'd never have bothered with the Tullys."

Robb looked uncomfortable with where this was going, but wisely stayed silent.

"Other news?" Domeric said leadingly.

Ser Stevron, who was an old man himself, supplied what he could. "They say Euron Greyjoy has been pirate king of the Basilisk Isles for these past several years. His corsairs prey on anyone trying to sail round the Doom. He bought himself an army of Unsullied in Astapor, and took a princess of the Summer Isles hostage. Her family supplies him with a company of bowmen. Finest archers in the world, Summer Islanders, with bows of goldenheart that outrange ours of yew. They did murder on our positions at the fords, let me tell you."

"And he stole my dragon!" added Dany with some heat.

"Dany, Dany," Dom said softly, trying to calm her down. "Remember what I told you about a 'dragon in being'? I don't want you risking yourself unnecessarily just for revenge. Simply being up there presents a threat Euron can't ignore, preventing him from committing his own dragon. There is a chance we can kill Euron on the ground. If that happens, could you get control of your white dragon again?"

The Targaryen princess thought for a moment. "I don't see why not. Viserion is still bound to me by ties of blood and spells. The sorcery the one-eyed man used to sever the connection should dissolve with his death."

Dom considered that seriously. Greyjoy didn't know these lands, and he couldn't be in the air all the time. Those slave soldiers might not fight without a master. It was a thought, a definite thought.

"We heard other things, worse things," Robb changed the subject. "Did he truly burn King's Landing?"

Ser Stevron shook his head. "None of us has been down that way in some time. That is what the rumors say, though. Lord Rykker in Duskendale claims refugees have made it to his doorstep. The dragon burned the Red Keep, and then the fire spread. When the Alchemist's Guild caught fire, half the city went up with it. Wildfire is a perilous thing, as I'm sure you know."

Worse and worse. Domeric sighed. There would be a ruined city, a refugee problem, and lands depopulated by a plague. It seemed like everything bad was happening all at once.

"The only way to Riverrun is through Hag's Mire," he said. "It will be a muddy mess, but the Whispering Wood would conceal our approach." Visions of Agincourt danced in his head. There was no way he was going to charge them over a field of mud. He would bait them into attacking him if he could. "Does Riverrun still hold?"

"We think so, my lord," Ser Stevron answered. "Euron wouldn't burn that castle, I think. There was talk of him wanting to marry Sansa Stark."