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Chapter 199: Battle Preparations
🕑 Added 2025-03-11 12:35:11 +0000 UTCGrey Gallows was the largest island in the Stepstones archipelago. It was the final stop for the Rhoynar people during their great migration, where Nymeria built a town and used it as a foothold to establish contact with Dorne. Eventually, she formed an alliance with House Martell by marrying its then-lord, Mors Martell.
For this reason, Sunspear had long claimed ownership of Grey Gallows. However, over the years, the island had changed hands many times. During the Usurper’s War, Sunspear’s fleet launched a surprise attack on Grey Gallows, wiping out the pirates who had taken residence there and reclaiming control over the island and its surrounding islets.
But now, the island had changed hands once more. A few months ago, the golden spear banner of Sunspear was lowered, replaced by the flags of the Three Kraken Alliance and the blood-red longsword of Summerhall, now flying over Grey Gallows and the surrounding island settlements.
For House Martell, though they had struck a deal with Lynd to support his vengeance, in truth, they had been forced into it. They understood all too well that once Lynd set his sights on unifying the Stepstones, Grey Gallows would have no chance of resisting his fleet.
Had Lynd not tamed the Sea Dragon, they might have tried to ally with the pirate factions near the Essos coast and put up a fight against the Miracle Fleet. But the moment Lynd subdued the Sea Dragon, it became clear—there was no longer a fleet on the sea capable of standing against the Miracle Fleet.
It was only a matter of time before Lynd took control of the Stepstones. Rather than passively allowing someone else to seize the island, it was better to take the initiative and trade it away, maximizing their own interests in the process.
Daeron Martell had once been the governor of Grey Gallows, overseeing the island and its surrounding territories while serving as commander of the Martell fleet.
For nearly a decade, he had been stationed on Grey Gallows, knowing every inch of the land. Now, the former lord of the island was returning as a mere guest, a fact that filled him with an inexplicable sense of melancholy. But what struck him even harder was how, in just a few months, he could barely recognize the port he had called home for ten years.
When he had relinquished control of the island, the port had been nothing more than a modest fishing harbor, capable of accommodating at most ten flat-bottomed fishing boats. Now, it had been transformed into a massive harbor, able to dock dozens of large warships. The docks had been rebuilt with mortar, pebbles, and stone slabs, forming smooth and sturdy foundations. Neatly arranged warehouses and barracks stretched from the docks to the very edge of the town. The original settlement had been completely engulfed, and its former residents had all been turned into dockworkers.
Among the people working on the docks, Daeron recognized many familiar faces. The scribe recording cargo logs had once been a maester he had employed—one who had been expelled from the Citadel. The warrior patrolling the docks had once been his captain of the guard, a man who had previously lacked even a full suit of armor. Now, that same man was clad in exquisitely crafted standard-issue leather armor, his hair and beard meticulously groomed, looking almost like a different person altogether.
Letting out a sigh, Daeron disembarked from the ship. Led by an envoy, he made his way toward a manor on the outskirts of town—a place that had once been his residence. Now, it belonged to another. And the greatest irony? It had been his own suggestion to trade Grey Gallows Island away.
Indeed, it was not Prince Doran who had proposed the trade before Lynd made his move—it had been Daeron himself, the island’s governor. As for his reasoning, the letter he had sent to Sunspear had been filled with eloquent justifications, carefully crafted arguments. But in the end, there was only one real reason.
Fear.
He had anticipated that Lynd would inevitably set his sights on the remaining Stepstones. Wanting to assess the true strength of the Miracle Fleet, he had taken a ship toward Miracle Harbor. However, midway through the journey, they encountered a patrol fleet in the midst of hunting down pirates. He had watched, helpless, as the Miracle Fleet effortlessly sent a dozen pirate ships to the ocean floor while losing only two longships of their own.
But that was not what had truly terrified him.
The moment of true fear came as their ship neared the harbor—when he witnessed the Sea Dragon Cannibal emerging from the depths, returning to its lair after patrolling the waters of Dorne.
The sheer size of the beast defied all his prior understanding of dragons. He could not fathom how his Sunspear fleet could possibly resist such a monstrous creature, let alone defeat it.
In that instant, he understood—he had to act. Otherwise, he would not only lose everything he had, but also his very life.
So, after returning to Grey Gallows Island, he wrote an urgent letter and sent it to Sunspear. He hadn’t expected his proposal to be approved outright—he had been prepared to return to Sunspear himself to explain the advantages and risks to Prince Doran. But to his surprise, Sunspear agreed immediately and swiftly negotiated a deal with Summerhall, transferring Grey Gallows Island directly to the Miracle Fleet.
To be honest, on the day of the transfer, he had felt reluctant. But now, he knew he had made the right decision. He was still the commander of Sunspear’s fleet, and the people of Grey Gallows Island were spared from war. Instead, they had good jobs and stable lives. At least when he found himself feeling resentful, he could use these thoughts to convince himself otherwise.
Upon entering the familiar manor, he was led to what had once been his study. Inside, a number of people were already gathered—among them, familiar figures like the three Ironborn captains of the Three Kraken Alliance and Hollis Redwyne, commander of the Miracle Fleet. These were men who, in the Stepstones, could stir up a storm with just a single command. And yet, now they stood quietly like attendants, waiting for orders from the only person seated in the room.
“That’s how things will be arranged. Go and carry out your tasks—I don’t want to waste any more time here. One naval battle is enough,” Lynd said, sitting behind the desk. He quickly signed off on a few orders and handed them to Hollis, Asha, and the others. Then, noticing Daeron Martell entering the room, he waved his hand, signaling for everyone else to leave. Once they had gone, he motioned for Daeron to step forward.
Six months after Augustus was born, Lynd had secretly left Redemption Town and traveled to Miracle Harbor. There, he boarded a patrol warship bound for Grey Gallows Island in the Stepstones, where he officially began leading the campaign to unify the archipelago. The Sea Dragon Cannibal had joined him in the waters of Dorne and accompanied him to the Stepstones, preparing for the decisive naval battle to come.
Upon arriving at Grey Gallows, he had immediately gathered the subordinates who had arrived ahead of him and assigned them their pre-planned tasks.
Dorne’s fleet had not originally been part of the strategy, but Prince Doran had sent him a letter, informing him that, as per their agreement, Dorne would dispatch its fleet in support of his campaign.
As far as Lynd was concerned, the more forces under his command, the better—as long as they followed orders and didn’t cause trouble.
When Daeron stepped forward, Lynd studied the veteran sea commander, a man several decades his senior, before speaking in a measured tone. “Ser Daeron, I have received a letter from Prince Doran stating that during this period, you will be under my command and will follow my orders completely. Is this information accurate?”
“It is,” Daeron replied firmly, lifting his head and squaring his shoulders. “I, Daeron Martell, am here to follow your orders.”
“I’ve heard that you were once the governor of Grey Gallows,” Lynd continued. “Now that I’ve taken control of your former territory, don’t you feel any resentment?”
Daeron’s expression remained solemn. “If you had asked th Prince, you would know that I was the one who proposed trading Grey Gallows to you, my lord. So you need not worry—I hold no anger toward you. And you can rest assured, I will follow your orders and fight as required.”
“Good.” Lynd rose from his seat and gestured for Daeron to follow him. They moved into an adjoining war room, where a detailed topographical sand table of the Stepstones’ waters was laid out.
The table was covered with miniature ship models, their placements and markings immediately revealing to Daeron what Lynd had planned—a decisive battle in Darkwood Bay.
At present, Lynd had already seized control of Bloodstone Island, Torturer’s Deep, and the island now named Grace’s Mercy. Along with Grey Gallows, this meant that two-thirds of the Stepstones were now under his command. The remaining islands, those closest to the Essosi coast, were still held by the Pirate Alliance and the forces of Tyrosh.
“Neither Tyrosh nor the Pirate Alliance can stand against my Miracle Fleet and the Three Kraken Alliance on their own, and they know it,” Lynd said, pointing to the sand table. “That’s why they’ve consolidated their forces here in Darkwood Bay, planning a concentrated strike on Godsgrace Island. I’ll grant them their wish—we’ll settle this with a decisive battle in Darkwood Bay to determine who will rule the Stepstones. You, however, will not need to take part in the battle. Your task is to hold this position.”
Lynd’s finger tapped on a small island at the southeastern edge of the Stepstones. Daeron immediately grasped his intent.
“You want me to keep watch for the Lysene fleet. You suspect Lys will send reinforcements.”
Lynd shook his head. “Not suspect.”
He reached for a document on the side of the sand table and handed it to Daeron. It had evidently already been reviewed by the others in the room.
Daeron scanned the contents. It was brief—just a single line:
The Lysene fleet has secretly left port in the dead of night. Their destination is unknown.
“How many ships have you brought? Can you hold off the Lysene fleet?” Lynd asked in a low voice.
“Rest assured, I have brought thirty warships and forty oared ships this time—enough to counter the Lysene fleet,” Daeron replied confidently. “If you need me to, I can wipe them out in the Stepstones.”
Lynd shook his head and firmly stated, “No. I only need you to block them and keep them from interfering in this battle. It would be best to avoid direct combat if possible—I need them to return to Lys intact.”
Daeron hesitated for a moment, not fully understanding Lynd’s reasoning, but he still nodded. “I will do my best to avoid engaging them. But if battle becomes inevitable, I will not hold back.”
Lynd nodded in agreement. “That’s fine. If it comes to that, fight however you see fit.”
He then quickly filled out a supply requisition and instructed Daeron to collect provisions from the warehouse.
Although Daeron had arrived with his own stockpile, he saw no reason to refuse the additional supplies. In a way, this extra allocation could be considered payment for the support his fleet was providing.
With tasks assigned, Lynd left the manor and headed for the docks. Under the watchful eyes of onlookers, he summoned the Cannibal from the depths of the sea, mounted the great beast, and rode toward Grace’s Mercy.
...
As Lynd was positioning his fleet, a dozen ships of varying sizes were anchored around a desolate island in Darkwood Bay. Small boats were lowered into the water, ferrying the captains of these vessels to the shore.
It was immediately evident that these men belonged to two distinct groups. One faction was dressed in extravagant clothing, their hair dyed in striking shades of red, blue, and purple. They wore bizarrely shaped hats, carrying themselves with the air of arrogant peacocks.
The other group, in stark contrast, was clad in tattered, filthy garments. Their hair was adorned with bones, and their weapons—hung with bells, brass tokens, and other trinkets—jingled noisily as they moved, a deliberate announcement of their presence.
When the two factions finally stood face-to-face, the atmosphere was anything but harmonious. One side eyed the other with open disdain, while the latter looked back at them as if assessing prey.
A middle-aged man from the finely dressed group stepped forward. Speaking in a heavily accented Valyrian, he said in a deep voice, “Enough! If we don’t unite now, there will be no place for us on these seas. We are not each other’s enemies—the enemy is out there!”
At this, an old man from the pirate faction stepped forward and scoffed. “Otto, it is you who have broken your word. You promised that once we allied, you would supply us with enough weapons. So, where are they? Don’t tell me they’re buried beneath this sand at our feet?”
The middle-aged man sighed. “A few months ago, Miracle Harbor cut off our supply line, claiming the route was unsafe. The weapons meant for you were among those shipments…”
The old man cut him off, unimpressed. “That’s not my concern. The fact that Miracle Harbor stopped supplying you has nothing to do with our agreement. I’ll say it again—give us the weapons, and we will stand with you against the Miracle Fleet and the Three Kraken Alliance. But without weapons, we are leaving tonight. You don’t expect us to fight with our bare hands, do you?”
“Rest assured, we will deliver what was promised.” The middle-aged man signaled to an attendant. A moment later, a large chest was carried forward and set down. He unlatched the lid, revealing rows of neatly arranged longswords, scimitars, and other weapons.
Before the old pirate could respond, his men surged forward, pulling weapons from the chest and testing their balance. Their expressions quickly turned to satisfaction.
“The rest is on that ship,” the middle-aged man said, pointing toward a vessel anchored offshore. “Take what you need.”
Before he could finish speaking, the old pirate thumped his chest and laughed. “No need to worry. Our ships will assemble at the designated location. When the time comes, we will follow your Tyroshi fleet and slaughter those western island savages!” He paused briefly before adding, “If we don’t act together now, we may never get another chance.”
