章節 317: Chapter 318: The New King
The Iron Islands
The Greyjoy Hall of the Drowned God was once again crowded with ironborn.
"King Balon is dead! He gave his life to restore the old ways and reclaim our glory! He was Balon the Brave, Balon the Blessed by the Drowned God! But now, he is gone!" Aeron Greyjoy's voice boomed through the hall, echoing like waves crashing against jagged rocks.
"King Balon is dead!" The ironborn shouted in unison, their voices thick with grief and anger.
"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" Aeron cried. "We will never surrender! Never falter! We need a new king to sit the Seastone Chair and continue Balon's work!"
"A new king will rise!" the crowd roared in response.
"He will!" Aeron's voice surged like a tidal wave. "But who? Who shall take Balon's place? Who will rule these sacred isles? Who will lead the ironborn?"
The Drowned Priest raised his hands high, his expression frenzied and wild.
But the Greyjoy Hall fell into uneasy silence.
The ironborn exchanged wary glances, each gauging the intentions of the others.
With Balon Greyjoy dead, succession was uncertain. By order of inheritance, Balon's son Theon was the rightful heir, but Theon was in the North, his fate unknown. Balon's daughter Asha might stake a claim, but few ironborn would accept a woman as their ruler.
That left Balon's brothers: Euron "Crow's Eye," Victarion the "Iron Captain," and Aeron "Damphair."
By seniority, Euron seemed next in line, but he had been exiled by Balon and lacked the influence of Victarion, who commanded the Iron Fleet.
Aeron, who harbored no love for Euron, turned his gaze to Victarion. Breaking the tense silence, he called out again:
"Who will be our king?"
Victarion met his brother's eyes and nodded. He stepped forward and ascended the dais.
"You all know me," Victarion said, raising a steel-clad fist. "I have no pretty words, only my axe and my iron fist! I've led the longships of the Iron Fleet into countless battles, winning countless victories for you all! And here's what I will say—
Whatever my brother Balon gave you, I can give you too. And more!"
"Victarion! Victarion, the King!" his supporters cried. Servants opened chests filled with plundered gold, silver, and jewels, spilling them across the floor.
Captains and raiders surged forward, scrambling for treasure while shouting Victarion's name.
Aeron allowed a faint smile but cast a wary glance toward Euron, wondering if he should act.
But the interruption came not from Euron, but from Balon's daughter, Asha Greyjoy.
"Uncle!" Asha bent to pick up a gold circlet from the treasure and bounded onto the dais.
The hall's clamor quieted; the ironborn wanted to hear what the daughter of King Balon had to say.
"My uncle is the bravest of the ironborn, but he is not the one most fit to sit the Seastone Chair," Asha declared confidently, placing the circlet upon her head. "Balon's brothers come after Balon's daughter in the line of succession."
"That's the law of the greenlands," Victarion retorted. "Never has a woman sat the Seastone Chair."
"That was the past," Asha said, turning to the crowd. "My uncle says he can give you more than my father, but what is that? Wealth? Glory? Freedom?
"No. Think carefully. Don't forget how we were hunted across the Riverlands by those armored knights of the mainland. Don't forget the widows we left behind, or the longships sunk in the Mander.
"My father brought you failure, and my uncle will bring you more failure!
"But I am different. I won't follow that path."
"Then what will you give us?" asked one of the captains.
"Peace!" Asha replied. "It's time for the ironborn to change. We cannot stand against the mainland's steel-clad knights. I will never forget my father's revenge, but there are many ways to seek vengeance. We ironborn are not just raiders—we can have allies.
"The Lannisters share a common enemy with us. Together, we can unite with the Iron Throne, achieve vengeance, and claim peace and victory!"
"Victory!" someone echoed enthusiastically.
"Asha! Asha! Asha!" A growing chorus of ironborn shouted her name.
But others jeered:
"No cowards! No women!"
"Victarion! Victarion is the King of the Ironborn!"
The crowd devolved into chaos. Stones flew toward Asha, who dodged frantically, her golden circlet falling to the floor.
The disorder intensified until a horn's piercing blast cut through the noise.
Its deadly wail silenced the hall.
Everyone turned toward the source of the sound.
It was one of Euron's men, blowing a great horn covered in red-gold patterns, inscribed with Valyrian glyphs that glowed brighter and brighter before erupting in flames.
The horn's scream was agony incarnate, scorching ears like molten steel.
The ironborn clutched their heads, groaning and cursing, but the horn drowned out their cries.
The hornblower fell to his knees, smoke wafting from his mouth, then collapsed dead, blood and blisters marking his face.
Euron "Crow's Eye" strode forward, mounting the dais with a measured, confident gait.
Every eye fixed on him.
"Ironborn," Euron said, his voice calm but commanding. "You've heard my horn. Now hear me.
"I am Balon's eldest brother, the only living Greyjoy who has never tasted defeat, never bent the knee, and never faltered. I have sailed to Asshai, seen miracles and horrors beyond imagining..."
"If you like the shadows so much, go back to them!" someone heckled.
Euron ignored the jibe and continued:
"You call me Crow's Eye. The crow's gift is to see death, and I see all of Westeros marching toward it.
"My brother wants to continue Balon's path. My niece offers peace. But I offer you all of Westeros!
"We are ironborn, lords of the sea! Our banners once flew wherever the waves reached. I promise you—from Lannisport to Storm's End, Winterfell to Sunspear, the Vale to the Shield Islands—we will take it all!"
"You're mad!" Asha retorted. "If we couldn't hold the Reach, how can we conquer the Seven Kingdoms?"
"Why not?" Euron said with a grin. "Haven't you heard the story of Aegon the Conqueror? He began with fewer men than we have."
"But he had three dragons."
"And so shall I." Euron's smile widened. "The horn you just heard—Dragonbinder—was forged in Valyria's depths. Through it, I can command dragons."
Euron scanned the crowd, gauging their reactions. When he saw their awe, he smiled triumphantly.
"That alone deserves the driftwood crown."
For a moment, the hall was silent, then the ironborn erupted in cheers:
"Euron! Euron! Euron!"
Victarion tightened his lips and left.
Outside, the sea's roar replaced the hall's tumult.
Victarion seethed with anger and despair. His brother had stolen his wife and now the kingship.
"Dear brother," Euron's voice called from behind.
Victarion clenched his fists. "Come to gloat?"
"The driftwood crown is nothing to gloat about," Euron replied lightly. "But if you want it, you can have it—once I claim the Iron Throne."
Victarion turned, disbelief etched on his face.
"You fancy yourself a conqueror? Where are your dragons?"
"I'll have them soon," Euron said confidently. "And I need a queen. Brother, will you fetch her for me?"
Victarion's fists bled as he clenched them tighter.
"You steal my wife and expect me to bring you a queen?"
"You killed her," Euron reminded him with a shrug.
"When you violated her, you killed her!"
Euron clapped a hand on Victarion's shoulder.
"Don't fret. I'll gift you a better woman. But this queen, you must bring her to me."
"Who is she?"
"The last true Targaryen. They say she's the most beautiful woman alive, with silver-gold hair and violet eyes. Go to Slaver's Bay, dear brother. Witness her beauty and bring her to me."
"Why should I go?"
"For duty, because your king commands you." Euron chuckled, "and for the Seastone Seat. I meant my promise. When I sit on the Iron Throne, I will crown you King of the Iron Islands."
"I'll go," Victarion growled, releasing his fists, blood dripping to the ground.
But not for you, he vowed silently.
The most beautiful woman in the world will be mine.
(End of Chapter)
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