Kapitel 695: Chapter 695: Blockade
Aboard the empire's flagship, a long-separated uncle and nephew were deep in a fervent disagreement.
"Asha, your father's greatest dream in life was to make the Iron Kingdom independent again and restore the ancient ways!"
"Now, you have both troops and ships. Why not sail to the edge of the world, conquer a small island, and reign supreme?"
Victarion could not fathom why his niece seemed so fearful of Viserys. The ironborn, with their unyielding spirit running through their veins, should not be so easily intimidated.
Even the mightiest dragon could not possibly fly to the world's end to hunt Asha down.
He had once traveled to Meereen, realizing that the world was far bigger than he had imagined. Beyond the Bone Mountains lay an even vaster world.
Freedom was the ultimate treasure.
To reign at the world's edge, establishing an empire and living free — wasn't that far better than being a mere lapdog for House Targaryen?
On the other hand, Asha equally couldn't understand her father and uncle's obsession with restoring the old ways and seeking the Iron Islands' independence.
The Ironborn spoke of reviving the old ways, of paying the iron price for goods and salt wives, but weren't they, in essence, just a band of pirates? As for independence, the Iron Islands were resource-poor, barren lands that barely produced any food, save for some worthless iron ore.
Were the Iron Islands to break away from Westeros, they couldn't even sustain themselves. Nowadays, the islands were sparsely populated, almost ghostly.
She had heard that her uncle, Euron Greyjoy, had cleared the islands of wights, but settlers were still few and far between.
Even refugees fleeing turmoil avoided the Iron Islands. Euron could only bolster numbers by raiding native islands and capturing prisoners.
Independence for such an Iron Islands?
With a population no greater than a few hundred, the Iron Islands barely qualified for a governor's position. If it weren't for historical considerations, the Iron Islands might even be absorbed into the Westerlands.
Hearing her uncle's words, Asha barely suppressed her anger.
"Uncle!"
"The Iron Islands are no longer under my control!"
"If you want independence for the Iron Islands, seek out Euron, not me."
Were it not for the fact that Victarion had saved her life, Asha might have been even more blunt.
"Do you think these soldiers will listen to my commands?"
Asha knew she could command them in most matters, be it pillaging or piracy, but to turn against the Iron Throne? Impossible.
Soldiers nowadays had a notion of allegiance to a nation.
They no longer simply followed the whims of local lords, even in rebellion. Today's soldiers were loyal to the monarchy, loyal to the entire realm.
Therefore, the idea of reigning supreme at the edge of the world with them was simply unattainable.
"Euron?"
"Asha, you know, how could I possibly seek him out?"
Even without the infamous affair between Euron and his wife, Victarion and his brother's relationship had always been fraught.
"I mean no offense. Just a suggestion. If you don't want to hear it, so be it."
In truth, Victarion yearned for command of the fleet. He always saw himself as his elder brother Balon's right-hand man, deserving of the Seastone Chair after his death. Plus, his niece was but a woman.
However, when Victarion arrived on the fleet, he realized that aside from the ironborn who respected him out of courtesy, he couldn't command anyone else.
An officer from the Vale, a captain of the imperial navy, even eyed him oddly, making Victarion uncomfortable, yet unable to lash out.
What had happened while he was away, journeying half the world to Meereen? Why did the world he knew seem slightly altered?
Suddenly, a mournful horn sounded across the sea.
"Uh?"
Victarion and Asha exchanged glances, then swiftly dashed out of the cabin.
"What's going on?"
"Commander!"
A golden-haired officer, clad in the armor of the imperial navy and holding his helmet, stood at the prow.
Upon seeing Asha Greyjoy approach, he swiftly saluted and gestured towards the horizon.
"A fleet flying the banners of Lys blocks our path."
"What?"
Peering into the distance, a thick fog rose from the sea, obscuring the view. Yet, the shadowy outlines of countless ships, formed in battle array, blocking the imperial fleet, were visible.
"Spyglass!"
Taking the Myrish lens from the officer's hand, Asha gazed into the distance.
Indeed, it was the flag of Lys.
"What do the Lyseni intend?"
"Could they be responsible?"
The empire's fleet had announced their diplomatic tour in advance, starting from Myr, through Tyrosh and Lys, finally to Volantis, then skirting the tumultuous Smoking Sea to Naath. Lys had initially welcomed them. Why the sudden blockade after the assassination attempt?
The scene shifted several hundred miles away to Myr, where a hooded figure, surrounded by spies, discreetly disembarked.
The bustling Myrish port seemed calm, but countless eyes scanned every corner. From the drunken sellsword, the rotund merchant, to the veiled woman clutching her child.
The mysterious figure removed his hood, revealing a pale, shadowy face. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, a brilliant smile emerged.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein