Land of the King, Chapter 71: In the Eyes of Myr

It was so strikingly familiar. Almost half a century ago, Aragost had commanded another fleet in an amphibious landing. Now he did so again, leading a fleet far greater, against a host infinitely more powerful than that at Sarhoy.

The waves rolled against the hulls of their ships as they sailed upon the ocean like swans on a lake. Their masts were like a forest upon the sea and as the rising sun rose in the east, it revealed the full scope of their armada. The armament that would reclaim East Arnor, starting right here, right now, at Myr.

More than three years since the day the war began with Dagor Bragollach, Arnor had returned in force at long last, to the shores of Essos. Since the infamous Drowning of the Isles many months ago, much had been done to prepare for this day. The Valyrian Navy in the Narrow Sea had been finally destroyed. The infrastructure in Arnor had been repaired and new ships had been brought over from the west or built to replace the lost. In the north the Crown Prince sailed to liberate Braavos but it would be here in Myr that the army that would win the war would land.

“Dragons inbound!” the scouts reported.

“Shoot them down,” the King ordered, unchanging from his goal or course.

With strength in numbers the Arnorian fleet was indomitable. Water mages and skinchangers in the thousands and archers and artillery in the tens of thousands proved too strong to overcome for the dozens of dragons harrying the fleet. Some ships did burn, especially in the outlying perimeter of the armada, but they meant little when the Arnorians brought sheer numbers to the battlefield. And the dragons did pay dearly for their attack as several dragons began falling from the skies, their wings torn full of holes or broken, or their legs pulled into the sea by great whips of water.

In the distance, the black walls of Myr stood proud and tall still, undamaged by three years of siege. Yet could the people it guarded say the same? Aragost supposed he was about to find out.

“Your Majesty!” his aide shouted and Aragost looked to the sky to see a stray dragon elegantly evading the Arnorian attacks as it aimed straight for the largest ship in the fleet, his flagship.

Turning its nose down, the dragon dived down hard at Aragost’s ship but soon found itself under a hailstorm of projectiles and water magic. Before the dragon could come within range, its wings were shredded with volleys of arrows and artillery before water magic dragged it into the sea, bellowing fire and fighting as it went down.

Soon, the fleet had reached the harbor of Myr and the landing began in full. Despite being under siege for three years, the vital harbor of Myr had miraculously avoided severe damage as the defenders had known the harbor and the supplies and reinforcements it brought in from Tyrosh, were the only thing keeping the city from Valyrian hands. Now that harbor was put to use as thousands of Arnorian soldiers began landing and immediately heading for the outer walls.

The armament had come in the nick of time for the besieging Valyrian army had been reinforced by the last two Valyrian Glaurungs and a whole host of soldiers and dragons.

“Boromir, take your detachment and head to the northern wall. The scouts report the Glaurung is approaching the gates. Drive it off.”

“Understood Your Majesty.”

Turning to the regiment behind him, Aragost continued as Boromir went north, “The rest of you! With me to the eastern gate!”

The outermost wall of Myr had five gates, facing north, northeast, east, southeast, and south respectively. Valyria however had only two Glaurungs now after the Drowning and so had chosen to deploy them at the positions furthest from the sea.

It was honestly an act of Eru that Myr had not already fallen. Two Glaurungs would have been enough to destroy almost any other fortress but the Myrish defenders had fought bitterly, using the sea to drown their hinterlands over and over to wash away the Valyrian encampments. And after months of hard fighting, even the Glaurungs’ Valyrian Steel armour was now in need of repairs and replacement as for all its strengths, Valyrian Steel was not indestructible.

As they marched to the far side of the city from the harbor, Aragost and his men were watched by the people. Though much had been done in the past three years to evacuate Myr’s civilian population, the slow and dangerous convoys that brought supplies and reinforcements and carried away refugees had not been able to take everyone. Hundreds of thousands had died during the siege, either killed or starved. Hundreds of thousands more remained in the broken rubble of the city, eking out a miserable existence on paltry rations, under constant fear of dragonfire or aerial bombardment.

Those same people had come to watch as Aragost and his troops urgently marched to the gates. There were few smiles on their faces, and no cheers. Only resignation, quiet gratitude, and even some hint of resentment.

As Aragost led at the head of the formation, he felt the people’s eyes on him, judging him. What was he in their eyes? He was their King that was for sure, that title brought enough begrudging respect even with all that Aragost had done to sully it. But what did they think of him beyond that? Was he a hard man making hard decisions? Was he a mass-murderer who drowned over a million Arnorians? Was he seen as the man who had abandoned Myr for three years? Mayhaps he was all of them in the eyes of Myr. Aragost did not truly know, and he was not brave enough to ask.

Soon enough they had arrived at the eastern wall. Thousands of artillery pieces and archers were deployed to fend off the dragons and Aragost’s men would add to that number. As they got onto the battlements, they reinforced the exhausted defenders.

All around, dragonfire and arrows and bolts filled the air as the reinforcements began

“What’s the situation!?” he asked of the commanding officer as arrived.

The officer bowed and saluted before answering, “Grim Your Majesty! The Valyrians are hitting us hard! We barely managed to hold before you arrived. That Glaurung is making things difficult.

“Understood. You’re dismissed soldier, go get some rest. I’ll handle this front for now.”

“Sire!” the soldier saluted before leaving.

Aragost turned back to the siege and gave his orders. “Mount more trebuchets and catapults on the walls! Bring as much water here as possible! I need Giants on and behind the walls, ready to shoot at all times!”

More men began piling onto the battlements, desperately loosing their arrows and artillery in a desperate attempt to drive off the rapidly approaching Glaurung.

“Loose!” and at his order a massive volley of boulders, bolts, and arrows was unleashed at the Glaurung.

The more powerful bolts began piercing through the battered armour of the Glaurung even as the blunt force of the boulders began bruising and breaking its bones. Enraged, the beast bellowed a great flame that saw the Arnorian garrison diving for cover under the parapets of their black walls. It did not save their siege weapons from going up in cinders however.

The Glaurung pressed further against the Arnorians at their moment of weakness, but the giants recovered quickly and sent their volley against its eyes, many coming dangerously close to a killing shot with how close the Glaurung was to the walls at this point.

Another round of flames bellowed at the walls. This time, dragons from the sky dived down upon the Arnorian positions, further intensifying the pressure on the defenders.

Aragost took cover in the black stone tower, being careful not to touch the stone of the walls. Though they were indestructible, dragonfire could still heat up black stone walls enough to harm those who touched them.

Desperately writing down the orders and sealing them, Aragost shouted to the skinchangers, “Send word to the water mages! We need a flood here!”

The skinchangers nodded and their eyes rolled back as they took control of their bonded birds and picked up the written orders before heading for the harbor.

What seemed like an eternity later, the assault died down as the water level outside the black walls began to rise. With the water mages carefully ensuring the water did not enter the city, the waves were guided around the city to form a defensive moat.

Aragost watched as the Glaurung hurriedly withdrew from the rising water while the dragons failed to do any more damage against the Arnorian defenders now that the Glaurung had withdrawn and they had water support.

“I want a thousand water mages and as many giants out there digging a moat for all that water. We can’t keep flooding the countryside like this,” Aragost ordered.

As work began on the moat, the Arnorian garrison began repositioning on the walls, artillery aimed at the sky at all times while archer stalked along the perimeter of the moat as the giants dug the moat. It was dangerous work and at any moment the Valyrians could return but if they did they’d get an ever bigger nosebleed then before with the water still at their disposal.

Feeling safe enough to leave the area to another officer, Aragost requisitioned a horse from the stables and rode for the palace of Myr.

The Viceroy’s Palace of Myr was surprisingly intact given its status as a high-priority target in a city under siege by dragons for three years. A testament perhaps to the skill and determination of the defenders of Myr.

“Lord Boromir, how did the defense of the north and north-east go?” Aragost asked as he arrived and saw his Steward waiting for him.

“Much the same as yours at the east gate. We took heavy casualties trying to keep the Glaurung at bay but when the water mages brought in the flood, the Valyrians finally pulled back,” Boromir answered as Aragost dismounted from his horse.

“Half a million men, and yet we are bleeding that like a waterfall. See to it that more reinforcements, supplies, weapons, anything that can contribute to the war effort are brought to Myr from Tyrosh and Raumdor as soon as possible. If we’re to stand a chance to break out against two Glaurungs, we might need to overcome them with sheer numbers.”

“Understood.”

“Any word from Braavos?”

“Yes, the assassination plot was successful. The resistance led by Prince Túrin and Princess Jaenara successfully seized control of the city and Prince Aravorn soon sailed in to secure the city. All dragonlords were killed and their dragons were either slain or driven off. They might go back to Valyria or fly wild, but regardless, they’re no more threat to Braavos.”

“Excellent news. With any luck, the Valyrians will be forced to pull back men and dragons from Myr to defend Andalos. If Pentos falls, we would have yet another foothold on the continent. With luck one of the Glaurungs might be moved north as well. Same as Myr, more men and supplies are needed to land in Braavos, perhaps the forces of the North and the Vale could help secure the territory and provide the numbers needed,” Aragost mused before he noticed that his Steward was not listening and seemed to be troubled.

“More to say Lord Boromir?” he queried.

“The report also stated that one dragon was successfully captured by resistance forces during the insurrection.”

“And?” Aragost interrupted, wanting him to get to his point quicker and wondering why this wasn’t mentioned earlier.

“Prince Aravorn gave custody to the dragon to Princess Jaenara to see if she could bond to it and ride it like she did with Terrax in the First War. For whatever reason, most likely the previous bond and traumatic memories interfering, she failed. Princess Jaenara ordered the dragon set free and it was last seen flying north over the Shivering Sea.”

Aragost’s mind was racing. Jaenara had the opportunity to claim another dragon, but when she failed, she had decided to set the dragon free rather than give it to her daughter or grandchildren? Why? And then the thought struck him.

I see. It’s fear.

When Jaenara had defected all those years ago. She had ended up being placed on the front lines and was a huge aid in helping Arnor defeat Valyria. The experience had ended with her dragon dying and she almost following suit. No doubt Jaenara feared the same would happen to Nimloth or her children if they ended up riding a dragon.

Aragost put his hand in his palms. What did his goodsister think of him? His son and brother as well, if they thought he would do such a thing and allowed Jaenara to do it? Yet as the man who had drowned a million of his own people, such was the reputation Aragost had earned and he would simply have to deal with it. The next time he saw any of the three of them in person, he would clear up the air, make it clear he would never have done anything like that.

‘Are you really sure about that?’ a treacherous part of his mind asked. Even now he was thinking on the lost possibilities and chances a dragon could have brought to Arnor, and also the disadvantages.

“Your Majesty?” Boromir asked, concerned.”

Aragost shook his head. The matter was done and irreversible. He only hoped it hadn’t cost them the advantage they needed to win the war.

“It matters not. Jaenara had custody of the dragon. When next I speak with my goodsister, I would have words with her. Until then there is no use crying over spilt milk.”

He had many more pressing things to worry about.

_____________________________________________________

A few days later, Aragost and Boromir were once again having a private conversation, this time at a table in what had become the King’s quarters.

“The Valyrians have pulled back. With the construction of the moat and the hundreds of thousands of soldiers at our disposal filling the battlements to the brim, they’ve decided to switch to the defensive. Our scouts have reported the Valyrians building fortified encampments far inland and establishing a perimeter around Myr,” Boromir said, summarizing the contents of the scout reports.

“The siege may be over, but the Valyrians still have us pinned here,” Aragost noted.

“Indeed. In the north, Prince Aravorn and Prince Túrin are making progress. All attempts at claiming Lorath have failed thus far but their armies have pushed far south into Andalos already. They’ve established a line on the Velvet Hills but it seems all attempts to move into the Flatlands have not gone well and the ruins of Ghoyan Drohe are heavily contested with Valyrians coming up the Rhoyne.”

“There is no way the Valyrians will allow us to reclaim Pentos, or cut their lines at the Rhoyne. What are the dragons doing?”

“Preliminary searches by both scouts and palantiri suggest more dragons are being deployed from Valyria but they’ve been hit hard by their losses. They lost the cream of their army at Morlond, and in the Drowning. They will be far more cautious with their dragons now.”

“As if they weren’t already,” Aravorn snorted. “And the Glaurungs?”

“Your prediction came true. We know for sure now that one Glaurung has left the vicinity of Myr. There’s really only one other place it could be going.”

Aravorn looked at the map on the table and the reports, bringing his right hand to stroke his chin as he examined them.

“The Valyrians are panicking. They know that with their failure in Westeros, the momentum of the war has turned against them. Now they are desperately trying to hold onto their gains in Essos. They seem to think a Glaurung in the Velvet Hills and a Glaurung here would be enough to stop us forever,” he mused.

“Send word to the Northern Front. Tell them to fortify the Velvet Hills and maintain pressure on the Flatlands, threatening Pentos and the Rhoyne as much as possible. The more Valyrian forces they keep tied up there, the better. When conditions are favorable, we could try landing forces in Tálnandor and maybe even think about reconquering Lys, it will allow us to outflank the Valyrian encirclement of Myr and break out into East Arnor.”

“So long as the Glaurung is at bay, I fear we will not be able to break out of Myr at all,” Boromir countered.

“That may no longer be the case. As powerful as the Glaurung is, it cannot fly, and it is relatively slow in comparison to a traditional dragon. The Valyrians cannot easily move them around to respond rapidly to our attacks. We know for sure now that one Glaurung has been sent north and with Pentos and the Rhoyne under threat I think the Valyrians cannot afford to reverse that order. If we land forces in Tálnandor and sally forth from Myr simultaneously, the Valyrians will be forced to choose between either force and we can break out into Essos and start interfering with their logistics.”

Boromir looked carefully at the map. “It could work.”

“It has to, and it will, with you commanding the force in Tálnandor,” Aragost said.

Boromir looked up in surprise. “Me, Your Majesty?”

“I can think of no one better than the Defender of Morlond to entrust with this task Boromir. You’re a proven and capable commander. More than that, you’ve long since proven to me that you have the will, the ruthlessness, needed for the task at hand.”

King and Steward locked eyes. They both knew what Aragost was referring to. Boromir had advised the King to carry out the Drowning. If he could do that, he was capable of sacrificing the men necessary to fulfill his mission.

“Very well. I accept Your Majesty.”

“Excellent,” Aragost said smiling though it was a false smile. He hadn’t honestly smiled since before the war.

“Before I leave to see to the preparations, there is an important matter that I believe has to be discussed.”

At his nod, Boromir continued. “A worrying trend has been noted among the giant soldiers and their losses. For the percentage of the army they make up, they have a disproportionately high casualty rate.”

Aragost sighed. “Yes, that is not unexpected. Giants are very high-priority targets for the Valyrians and they’re easy to single out on the battlefield. Word has already been sent home that every adult male giant is to be trained and equipped for war.”

“I fear that will not be enough Sire. We’re losing giants faster than we can replace them in some battles and their presence on the frontlines is vital. They are an important asset we cannot do without. I fear our advance may collapse without giants. I think that we should begin thinking about the possibility that the entire adult giant population, not just the males, would have to be mobilized.”

Aragost frowned. “That would be a very controversial decision. Especially since the ramifications of the Drowning are still being felt.”

“And yet just like the Drowning, it may prove to be necessary Sire. It is not without precedent. Already, thousands of women serve on the frontlines as water witches. They are the majority in the Water Mage Corps.”

“Hmm. Very well, I concur, but only to an extent. They will fill in the roles the male giants currently have in the home front, manual labour and the like, to free up more males for the frontlines. As a precaution, they can also begin training for war. Yet I am loath to draft females to war, be they Dúnedain or giants, without need.”

“And should the need arise?” the Steward questioned.

Aragost clenched his fists and hardened his heart. It seemed that he was now in the business of making the hard decisions no one else could.

“If and when that time comes, I will make that decision.”