GOT: The Great Khal — Chapter 123 - Volume Two: Ascending the Iron Throne
Volume Two: Ascending the Iron Throne
Chapter 123: The Dragons Arrive
The main gate of Dragonstone's keep had been battered open.
The iron-bound doors lay crooked to one side, hinges snapped. Splintered wood and iron nails were scattered across the ground.
The first dozen men through the gate never made it past the entry hall. Spears met them head-on and punched straight through.
The Unsullied stood in three ranks, shields locked against shields, spears thrusting out through the gaps in unison, withdrawing, thrusting again. Mechanical. Precise.
But there were too many of them. The ironmen kept coming, trampling their own dead. One Unsullied fell, a second stepped up, the third was cut down.
Barristan Selmy came charging down the stairs. He drove his sword through one ironman's throat, then backhanded half the face off another.
"Hold the doorway!" He planted himself at the entrance to the main hall and did not give a single step.
Nimiz burst from the side corridor with his arakh in hand. One slash took off a hand. Another took a neck. All wide, sweeping strikes.
"Whitebeard! You owe me!" He cut down an ironman who had been trying to flank Barristan Selmy.
Jorah Mormont's longsword was already notched. Two broken arrow shafts jutted from his armor.
An ironman rushed him. Jorah cleaved him to the ground, shield and all.
Another lunged from behind. A short axe bit into his shoulder guard and threw sparks. Jorah spun, drove his elbow into the man's chest, knocked him flat, then put his sword through the man's belly.
Strong Belwas swung his lengthened arakh. The blade crashed against an ironman's helm with a burst of sparks.
Batista gripped a short-hafted hammer. One blow caved in an ironman's skull. Before the man could scream, the second blow slammed into his temple.
Johnson wielded a two-handed greataxe, its blade half as wide as a door panel.
He waited behind the Unsullied shield wall for his opening. When it came, he swung. Men and shields went flying.
The axe was so heavy he had to catch his breath every two swings. But no one who took a hit from it was still standing.
A stray arrow buried itself in Barristan Selmy's left arm. He glanced down, bit the sword hilt, yanked the arrow free, and threw it to the ground. Blood dripped from his fingers.
"Contract the line!"
Nimiz's face was pure despair. "Today we all die here."
The Unsullied began their alternating retreat. Front-rank spearmen thrust the enemy back, sidestepped, and withdrew. The rear rank filled the gap. Squad by squad, they fell back.
2 dragon cries split the sky from the horizon. Every head lifted.
Two dragons plunged down through the clouds.
Drogon's wingspan had grown by another full measure. His scales were black as charred coal, gleaming dark crimson in the sunlight. He wore newly forged plate armor that wrapped him from neck to the base of his tail. He was the size of a wild yak now, his neck thick as a tree trunk.
Behind him came Viserion, gold scales and gold armor, so dazzling in the sun it hurt to look at him. He was a size smaller than Drogon, but still like a full-grown water buffalo — his round belly and broad chest made it clear he had not missed many meals.
Each dragon carried a rider.
On Drogon's back, Khal Drogo gripped the reins in one hand and held a pudao in the other.
On Viserion's back, Daenerys Targaryen clung to the dragon saddle, her silver-gold hair streaming behind her like a white line.
"Dragons!" someone on the wall shouted.
"The Khal has come!"
The defenders' morale surged. The shield wall shoved outward hard, driving the ironmen back several steps.
Euron looked up at the diving dragons and laughed. The kind of laugh that sent chills down a sailor's spine. "Interesting," he said. "Fucking interesting."
Still dozens of yards above the water, Drogon spread his wings wide. His body dropped and he skimmed low over the fleet.
Dragonfire erupted from his throat. Black flames poured down onto the first iron ship.
The sails ignited into curtains of fire. The mast crackled and burst apart. The ironmen on deck had no time to jump before the flames swallowed them whole.
Drogon pulled up, circled, and dove again. This time he aimed for the center of the fleet. Fire swept across the surface of the sea and 3 longships caught at once. Ironmen threw themselves into the water.
Viserion was not as ferocious as Drogon, but he was faster and more agile.
The gold dragon swept low over the fleet's flank, torched one ship with a single blast, then banked sharply and dodged an iron crossbow bolt fired from below.
"Shoot the dragons! Shoot the dragons!" a captain screamed.
Archers raised their bows and loosed into the sky. Dozens of shafts flew toward Viserion and clattered against his plate armor. A crisp ringing filled the air — arrows striking iron, bouncing off one after another, not leaving so much as a dent. One shaft caught briefly in a groove of the chest plate's ornamentation. Viserion shook his body and it fell away.
Drogon took several volleys as well. He was flying lower and drawing heavier fire.
A dozen arrows struck his flank at once. Sparks flew off the iron armor, shafts snapped, arrowheads ricocheted. Drogon twisted his head and roared, then spewed dragonfire at the ship with the densest cluster of archers.
The archers became balls of fire. Bowstrings snapped in the searing heat, cracking and popping in every direction.
The front ranks of Euron's fleet were burned down to their skeletons. The sea's surface was littered with burning debris and bodies.
"Steady! Steady!" Euron roared from the prow. His voice was swallowed by dragon cries and the roar of flames.
The 2 dragons swept over the beachhead. The shore was packed with ironmen — some just jumping from their ships, others with one foot still in the water, shields raised, staring up at the sky with terror on their faces.
Drogon flew low along the coastline. His dragonfire swept across the sand like an enormous broom.
Where the flames passed, ironmen were charred to cinders. Wet sand melted into glass and steamed.
Some threw down their weapons and ran for the sea. Viserion cut them off from the other side and drove them back with another blast.
Archers on the shore crouched behind the reefs and shot at the sky.
Another volley flew up. The shafts struck Drogon's plate armor with a steady metallic clanging, like hammers on iron. They snapped and bounced away. Some rebounded and buried themselves in the sand.
Drogon spewed dragonfire at the reefs. The rocks burst apart. The archers hiding behind them were hurled out by the shockwave, rolling across the sand with flames covering their bodies.
Drogon dipped sharply and skimmed over the castle wall. Drogo did not wait for the dragon to land. He leaped straight off the back.
Pudao in hand, he dropped into the enemy ranks and cleaved an ironman down with his first stroke.
Daenerys saw him jump. Her heart clenched.
But she did not lose focus. She patted Viserion's neck and turned him toward the next ship.
Drogon beat his wings and climbed. He and Viserion split apart, one left, one right, and dove toward the sea again.
The 2 dragons swept low over what remained of the fleet. Their dragonfire crossed in the air and wove into a net of flames.
➤ Next: Drogo the God of Slaughter