The Stronghammer - CH - 66

The docks of Dragonstone were alive with the scent of salt, the creaking of ships, and the calls of merchants hawking their wares. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the narrow piers. Among the bustle, Holden Cross leaned against a wooden post, his arms crossed as he oversaw the final preparations.

Two hammocks had been secured aboard The Silver Maiden, a modest trading vessel heading towards Driftmark before continuing its journey west. It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but it was discreet—just what they needed.

Holden exhaled, glancing toward the looming castle atop the volcanic cliffs. Eddie still hadn’t returned.

Eddie strode through the halls of Dragonstone, his boots echoing off the stone. He knew his way well now, having spent months within its walls. Servants moved about with hurried steps, sparing him curious glances. He was no longer a squire to the Crown Prince, but he was far from forgotten.

He found Aemond in the library, sitting at a long wooden table, a book open in front of him. He wasn’t reading, though—his violet eyes stared ahead, deep in thought. He looked up as Eddie approached.

“You’re leaving,” Aemond said, his voice flat.

Eddie smirked. “You don’t sound surprised.”

Aemond exhaled through his nose. “I knew you wouldn’t stay here forever. You don’t belong in one place.”

Eddie leaned against the table, crossing his arms. “And you do?”

Aemond’s fingers traced the edge of his book. “I have responsibilities.”

Eddie scoffed. “So do I. Exploring the world, getting into trouble, seeing what’s out there—it’s as much a duty as sitting on a chair and listening to old men argue.”

Aemond shook his head with a smirk. “That’s what you tell yourself.”

They were silent for a moment. The tension between them wasn’t heavy, but it was filled with unspoken words.

Finally, Aemond stood and extended his hand. “Will you come back?”

Eddie clasped it firmly. “You never know. Maybe I’ll return with my own kingdom to rival Westeros.”

Aemond chuckled, but there was something sincere behind it. “Then I’ll have to challenge you for it.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Eddie grinned.

Aemond sighed. “Take care of yourself, Eddie.”

Eddie released his grip and nodded. “You too, dragon prince.”

With that, he turned and strode out of the castle. He didn’t look back.

The morning had begun like any other—the salty breeze of Dragonstone, the scent of fish from the docks, and the familiar hustle of sailors preparing their ships. Eddie and Holden Cross were already awake, their bags packed, ready to board The Silver Maiden and set sail westward.

But the ship never left.

Instead, the entire harbor was locked down, and the Targaryen banners flew high as orders were barked from the Red Keep. Royal ships that had been docked were ordered to remain, and other vessels were prevented from departing.

Eddie and Holden watched from a distance as couriers ran through the city, carrying messages sealed with wax—orders, no doubt, calling lords to arms. The urgency in the air was unmistakable.

“Something’s happened,” Holden muttered, arms crossed as he stood near the docks, eyes scanning the soldiers moving hastily between ships.

Eddie nodded, adjusting the belt of his sword. “A war? A rebellion?”

“A call for war doesn’t come this fast. Whatever happened was sudden.”

Their answer came soon enough.

A group of dockhands whispered among themselves, one of them wide-eyed with horror. Eddie approached casually, blending into the crowd. He caught snippets of their conversation—words that made his stomach turn.

“…pirate attack…”

“…merchant vessel…”

“…captured for slavery…”

Eddie frowned. Slavery wasn’t common in Westeros. Pirates would only dare such an act if they were from Essos, or if they thought they could slip away before Westeros could retaliate.

Then he caught the next words, and his blood ran cold.

“…Baratheon’s daughter…”

Eddie’s fingers clenched into a fist.

Borros Baratheon had no son. His eldest daughter was his heir—one of Eddie’s cousins. And now, she had been taken.

He turned sharply to Holden, who had also heard. The old knight’s face was grim.

“That complicates things,” Holden said. “Borros Baratheon won’t sit idle. He’ll demand immediate action.”

“And the King?” Eddie asked.

“Viserys will have no choice but to support him.”

It made sense why the royal fleet had been locked down. They weren’t just waiting; they were preparing for war.

Eddie exhaled sharply. “Do we know where they’re taking her?”

Holden looked towards the harbor, watching the ships assembling. “If it’s slavers, then most likely Essos.”

Eddie cursed under his breath. “Then we’re not leaving yet.”

Eddie paced the small room he and Holden had rented in Dragonstone, his mind racing. Cassandra Baratheon was not just his cousin—she was the heir to Storm’s End, the future of House Baratheon. Losing her would be an unthinkable blow to the family.

Holden sat in the corner, watching him with narrowed eyes. “You’re thinking about doing something stupid again, aren’t you?”

Eddie stopped pacing and turned to face him. “I can’t just sit here while Cassandra is taken away into slavery. I know how these slaver pirates work, and I know where to start looking.”

Holden exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “And what do you plan to do? March up to the Targaryens and demand a ship? They’re already locking everything down.”

Eddie shook his head. “No. The royal fleet is slow. By the time they move, Cassandra could already be deep in Slaver’s Bay or worse. We need to act before that happens.”

Holden leaned forward, interest piqued. “So, what’s your plan?”

Eddie sat down, running a hand through his dark hair. “I know where to start. There’s no way a ship from Westeros attacked a vessel flying Baratheon colors. That means the pirates were from Essos. The Stepstones, most likely.”

Holden’s expression darkened. “The Sons of the Kraken.”

Eddie nodded. “Exactly. They’re the only pirate faction bold enough to strike a noble’s ship and try to ransom or sell the captives. And they don’t just operate randomly—they have informants, contacts in port cities. Someone in Dragonstone, maybe even in King’s Landing, knows where they took her.”

Holden sighed, rubbing his beard. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. If the pirates have her, they’ll either ransom her back to Storm’s End or sell her in Volantis or Lys.”

Eddie stood. “Which means we don’t have time to waste. The longer she’s held, the harder she’ll be to find.”

Holden grunted. “And how exactly do you plan to find the Sons of the Kraken?”

Eddie smirked. “I know just the place to ask.”

Dragonstone wasn’t just home to dragons and nobility. Beneath its rocky cliffs and shadowed harbors, the underbelly of smuggling and piracy thrived. Eddie led Holden down to the hidden pathways beneath the city, where lanterns flickered against damp stone walls, and the scent of salt and stale ale filled the air.

The Smuggler’s Den was a tavern tucked away from prying noble eyes, a place where information flowed as freely as wine. Sailors, pirates, and traders gathered here, exchanging rumors, gold, and secrets.

Eddie and Holden entered, the heavy scent of spiced rum and pipe smoke filling their lungs. The dimly lit room was packed with rough-looking men, some nursing drinks, others engaged in whispered conversations.

Holden muttered under his breath. “This place hasn’t changed in twenty years.”

Eddie made his way to the bar, tossing a silver coin onto the counter. “We’re looking for information.”

The bartender, a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek, eyed the coin before nodding. “Depends on the kind of information.”

Eddie leaned in. “Sons of the Kraken. Where was the last sighting?”

The bartender’s expression turned wary. “That’s dangerous talk.”

Eddie slid another coin across the counter. “And this is dangerous money.”

The man hesitated before glancing around and lowering his voice. “Word is, they hit a merchant ship not far from Crackclaw Point. Took prisoners, including someone important. Their flag was seen heading east, towards the Undisputed Lands.”

Holden cursed. “Undisputed Lands. That’s where they’ll hold the captives before deciding if they ransom or sell them.”

Eddie straightened. “Then that’s where we’re going.”

Holden gave him a skeptical look. “And how exactly do you plan to get there?”

Eddie marched toward Dragonstone Castle, his boots echoing against the stone floor. The entire fortress was thick with tension. The halls were filled with whispers, and even the guards were speaking in hushed tones. It wasn’t just the disappearance of Cassandra Baratheon that had everyone on edge—it was the possibility of what would come next.

Everyone in Westeros knew that Borros Baratheon wasn’t just a typical lord. His bastard brother was Robert Stormrage, King of Stormrage, a powerful ruler in Essos. If Cassandra wasn’t found soon, Robert himself would descend upon Westeros like a storm, and nobody—not even the Targaryens—wanted to deal with an angry dragonlord from across the sea.

Eddie pushed open the doors to the war chamber and found the lords gathered in heated discussion. King Viserys was seated at the head of the table, looking weary and troubled. Otto Hightower stood at his side, his sharp eyes watching everyone carefully. Prince Aegon leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the chaos.

Lord Corlys Velaryon was present, his expression grim. He was the master of ships, and a Baratheon ship getting attacked on the open sea was an insult to his authority.

The moment Eddie stepped inside, the discussions stopped. All eyes turned to him.

"Who let the bastard in?" Lord Beesbury sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

Aegon chuckled, pushing off the pillar. “Careful who you call a bastard, Beesbury. You don’t want to make the wrong enemies.”

Eddie ignored the insult and walked up to the table. “I know where she is,” he said bluntly, his voice carrying across the room.

Lord Strong turned to him sharply. “Where?!”

Eddie met his gaze without hesitation. “The Sons of the Kraken have her. They’ve taken her to their secret harbor in the Disputed Lands. I have confirmation from sources in the city.”

There was silence for a moment. Then Otto Hightower spoke. “We received the same information from the spymaster.” He turned to King Viserys. “Your Grace, this confirms it.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his forehead. “And what do you propose, Lord Strong?”

Lyonel Strong pounded his fist on the table. “We need to act now! If they get far into Essos, we’ll never find her again.”

Lord Corlys frowned. “We cannot simply send our fleets storming into the Disputed Lands. It would be an act of war.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t need to send the fleet.”

Everyone looked at him.

“I’ll go.”

Borros narrowed his eyes. “Alone?”

Eddie grinned. “Not alone. I’ll take Holden Cross and some men. We don’t need an army to infiltrate the pirate stronghold. We just need a fast ship, good steel, and the element of surprise.”

Aegon laughed. “That’s madness.”

Eddie stormed out of the castle, his fists clenched, his temper barely in check. They didn’t take him seriously. The lords and advisors all saw him as a reckless teenager, a nameless squire with no real authority. The idea of him leading a mission to rescue Cassandra Baratheon had been laughed off as foolishness.

"You're just a boy," Otto Hightower had said with a condescending smirk. "This is not your fight."

Not his fight? Eddie’s blood boiled at the thought. Cassandra was his cousin, his family. They were wasting time debating while she was being shipped off into slavery.

As he stormed through the courtyard, a voice called out behind him.

"Eddie!"

He turned to see Aemond jogging toward him, his silver hair catching the sunlight. Unlike his lazy older brother Aegon, Aemond actually paid attention to what was happening around him. He was sharp, ambitious, and most importantly, he respected Eddie.

"What happened?" Aemond asked, catching up. "Why do you look like you’re ready to punch a hole through the castle walls?"

Eddie exhaled sharply. "They won’t let me go. The lords, the king, all of them think I’m just some reckless fool. They think it’s too dangerous."

Aemond frowned. "So what are you going to do?"

Eddie scoffed. "What do you think? I’m going anyway."

Aemond smirked. "Of course you are."

Eddie nodded. "Problem is, all the ships are under Velaryon control, and I doubt Lord Corlys will give me one just because I ask nicely."

Aemond looked thoughtful for a moment, then grinned. "You don’t need a ship."

Eddie gave him a puzzled look. "And how exactly do you expect me to cross the sea without a ship? Swim?"

Aemond rolled his eyes. "Vermithor, you idiot."

Eddie blinked. Then it hit him.

Of course.

Aemond had a dragon.

Eddie felt like an idiot for forgetting such an obvious solution. Vermithor was huge, one of the largest living dragons in the world. Faster than any ship. Stronger than any army. And Aemond have almost full control over him.

"Can Vermithor carry more than one person?" Eddie asked.

Aemond smirked. "He's carried me and a few crates of supplies before. How many men do you need?"

Eddie thought about it. "Holden Cross, my ten men, and me. Twelve in total."

Aemond's eyes narrowed as he considered it. "It'll be difficult, but if we load light, we can make it work. No heavy armor, no extra supplies. Just weapons and whatever we can carry on our backs."

Eddie grinned. "Perfect."

Aemond looked a little hesitant. "But what happens if they find out Vermithor is gone?"

Eddie shrugged. "By the time they realize it, we'll already be in Essos."

Aemond smirked, clearly liking the sound of that. "Then let's do it."

They agreed to meet at their usual hidden spot, a secluded clearing near the edge of Dragonstone, where Aemond had been practicing his flying in secret. The location was far from the castle, away from prying eyes.

Eddie rushed to find Holden Cross and the others, explaining the new plan in a hushed voice.

Holden listened carefully, nodding. "Dragon travel, huh? Not exactly what I was expecting, but I won’t complain."

One of Eddie’s men looked nervous. "I've never ridden a dragon before."

Holden smirked. "Neither has anyone else besides a few Targaryens, boy. Count yourself lucky."

Under the cover of night, they gathered their weapons and supplies, making sure to travel light. No armor. No extra baggage. Just swords, daggers, and determination.

When they reached the clearing, Vermithor was already waiting, his bronze scales glinting under the moonlight. Aemond stood beside him, running a hand along his massive neck.

"You’re late," Aemond said with a smirk.

Eddie grinned. "Had to say my goodbyes."

Holden Cross eyed Vermithor warily. "Big bastard, isn’t he?"

Aemond chuckled. "Better hope he doesn’t throw you off mid-flight."

One by one, they climbed onto Vermithor’s massive back, securing themselves as best they could. Aemond took the front, his hands gripping the dragon’s reins.

Eddie sat behind him, holding on tight. "You sure about this?"

Aemond grinned. "Too late to back out now."

With a powerful beat of his wings, Vermithor took to the skies.