Rewriting Targaryen History

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Failure to Contain

The first raven had barely left the rookery before the Red Keep discovered the princes were gone.

At first, the report came as confusion rather than alarm. A servant had gone to Prince Aegon’s chamber with warmed wine and bread he had not asked for, only to find the room empty, the bed unused, and one of his boots left behind as though he had dressed in haste. That alone would not have stirred half the castle. Aegon had vanished from his own rooms before for reasons that were usually shameful, drunken, or both.

Then Ser Willis Fell reported that Prince Aemond had not been found in his apartments. That changed the air.

The second report came from the lower gate. A stableboy had seen two hooded riders leaving before the formal announcement of the king’s death, escorted by one sworn knight and three men he did not know.

The boy had thought little of it until the castle began sealing messages and calling councillors. He was frightened enough when questioned that he contradicted himself twice, but one part remained steady: the taller rider had only one eye visible beneath his hood.

The third report was carried in by a Gold Cloak with blood on his sleeve that was not his own.

By then, Rhaenyra had left the council chamber and returned to the guarded passage outside her father’s rooms. She had not slept, not wept again, and not removed the black cloak someone had placed over her shoulders. Alicent remained with Viserys’s body. Helaena had been woken and brought to her mother’s apartments with the twins, though not yet told everything.

The Gold Cloak knelt in the corridor before Rhaenyra, Lorent, and me, breathing hard from the climb.

"Your Grace," he said, voice raw, "there has been blood at the Dragonpit."

Rhaenyra’s face did not change quickly. That was worse than if it had. "Speak carefully."

"Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond came before dawn. The men at the outer yard had orders that no royal dragon was to be taken without command from the Crown. They tried to hold the gate long enough to send word. Prince Aemond cut down two of them, and a third died under Sunfyre’s claws when the dragon was brought out. The princes took flight. Men on the hill say Sunfyre rose first. Prince Aemond rode east after, toward where Vhagar had been kept beyond the city."

The corridor seemed to narrow around us. Luke had once told me that adults looked different when fear became decision. I wondered what he would have seen in Rhaenyra then. Her father lay dead behind one door, her brother had fled before dawn, her other brother had spilt blood under her authority, and the crown had not yet touched her head.

"Were they pursued?" I asked.

The Gold Cloak looked at me, then back to Rhaenyra. "No, my prince. Not after the dragons rose. The captain sent riders, but no man could follow into the sky."

"Did they leave a message?" Rhaenyra asked.

The man swallowed. "One of the stable hands at the Dragonpit says Prince Aegon shouted that he was leaving on his grandfather’s command, for his own safety and the safety of the realm. I did not hear it myself."

"His grandfather," Rhaenyra repeated.

No one needed to ask which one. Otto Hightower had not been in the Dragonpit. He had been in the council chamber, polished and controlled, arguing that her coronation should wait while his grandsons were already running toward dragons. The timing was no accident.

Ser Lorent understood as quickly as I did. "They were warned before the king’s death was announced."

The Gold Cloak looked confused. "Your Grace?"

Rhaenyra answered, not to him but to all of us. "If they left before the council was summoned, then someone told them Father was dying before Orwyle confirmed the end. Someone sent them away while he still breathed."

The words struck harder than a simple accusation.

Viserys had been dying for months, but there was a difference between preparing for death and hearing that the last breath was close enough to run before anyone else knew. Aegon and Aemond had not merely fled after learning the king was dead. They had been warned in the final moments, when Rhaenyra had still been holding her father’s hand.

Ser Lorent’s mouth tightened. "I will have every servant from the outer chambers questioned."

"Quietly at first," Rhaenyra said. "Not gently if they lie."

The Gold Cloak bowed his head lower. "What are your commands, Your Grace?"

Rhaenyra looked at the blood on his sleeve. "The dead men are to be named, not counted only as losses. Their families will be paid from the Crown’s purse. The Dragonpit is to be secured again, and no keeper leaves until questioned. Find out who opened the inner gate, who saddled Sunfyre, who saw Aemond ride out, and who knew before the first guard fell."

The man bowed and hurried away.

For a moment after he left, the passage held no sound except the muffled movement from the king’s chamber. Then Alicent appeared in the doorway. She had heard enough.

Her face was pale, and grief had not left her, but fear now stood beside it. "What has happened?"

Rhaenyra turned toward her. "Aegon and Aemond have fled the city. They went first to the Dragonpit. Gold Cloaks tried to stop them. Three men are dead."

Alicent gripped the edge of the door. "No."

"They were heard saying they left on Otto’s command."

"My father was in the council chamber."

"After they were gone."

Alicent shook her head slowly, not in denial alone but in horror at the shape of what had been done around her. "Aegon would not arrange this himself."

"No," I said. "He would not."

That did not comfort her. If anything, it made the accusation clearer.

Alicent looked from me to Rhaenyra. "Where are they going?"

"Oldtown, if the shout was honest," Rhaenyra said. "Or anywhere Otto’s friends can hide them before naming their purpose."

"Helaena is here," Alicent said, and the words came with sudden urgency. "The twins are here. Aegon left his wife and children."

Rhaenyra’s anger flickered, but she did not let it rule her. "They will be protected."

Alicent heard what lay beneath that. "Protected or held?"

Rhaenyra stepped closer, her voice low enough that the guards could not turn it into hall gossip. "Both, if Aegon and Aemond mean to raise defiance. I will not harm Helaena or the children. I will not parade them, threaten them, or use them as bait. But until I know who sent your sons from the city, no message leaves your apartments unexamined, and no one enters them without my order."

Alicent’s eyes filled again, though not only from grief. "You would make us prisoners."

"I would keep you alive and keep your father from using your rooms as a second council."

"You think I knew."

"I think you did not," Rhaenyra said. "I also think men have used your children before without asking whether you wished to be complicit."

That struck Alicent deeply enough that she had no answer ready. The truth hurt more when it came without cruelty.

Rhaenyra softened, though only slightly. "Stay with Father for now. When you leave him, you will go to Helaena. Ser Erryk will escort you. Your household will be treated with dignity, but it will be watched."

Alicent looked back toward the bed where Viserys lay. "He is not yet cold."

"I know."

"And already they have done this."

Rhaenyra’s voice changed. "Yes. They have."

That was the moment grief became something sharper.

By dawn, the Red Keep knew enough to fear the rest. It did not yet know everything.

That was partly by command and partly by uncertainty. No public proclamation named Aegon traitor. No herald shouted Aemond’s bloodshed from the steps. But servants had eyes, Gold Cloaks had brothers, and three dead men at the Dragonpit could not be hidden beneath careful phrasing. By the time the sun rose pale over Blackwater Bay, courtiers gathered in corners with faces too controlled to seem innocent.

They had expected disputes. They had expected Otto to argue. They had expected Rhaenyra’s coronation to be hurried, perhaps contested by raven, perhaps resented by proud lords who disliked a woman’s claim no matter how often the king affirmed it.

They had not expected Aegon and Aemond to flee before Viserys’s death was formally announced, leaving blood behind them and women behind them in the Red Keep.

That made the question larger. Had war already begun, or had it merely sent its first rider?

The answer arrived shortly before midday in the form of Daemon Targaryen.

He came through the river gate with a small escort, salt still on his cloak from the crossing and the travel-stained look of a man who had not expected the realm to change while he was away discussing matters in Pentos that now seemed too unimportant for memory. He had only just returned to Westeros. News of Viserys’s death met him before he reached the inner yard. News of Aegon and Aemond reached him before he removed his gloves.

By the time he entered the council chamber, his face had become something dangerous.

Rhaenyra had summoned the remaining council again. Otto was present because he had not yet been arrested, though Lorent and Steffon stood near enough to make the distinction thin.

Larys sat quietly, hands folded over his cane. Jasper Wylde kept his face lowered over documents no one had asked him to read. Tyland had reports from the harbour. Orwyle looked as though the night had carved years into him.

Daemon entered without asking permission, then stopped when he saw Rhaenyra at the head of the table. For all his faults, he understood that room had changed. He bowed, not theatrically but deeply enough for the watching men to remember she was no longer merely niece or heir.

"Your Grace," he said. "I came to mourn my brother and find his sons flying to treason before his corpse is dressed."

Rhaenyra’s face remained controlled. "You have heard the reports."

"I have heard enough. Aegon fled. Aemond killed men at the Dragonpit. They claimed Otto’s command and ran toward Oldtown. If the reports are false, they have chosen a remarkably convincing shape for treason."

Otto rose slowly. "Prince Daemon, grief has made you careless with accusation."

Daemon turned toward him. "Grief has made me merciful enough to speak before cutting out your tongue."

Lorent’s hand shifted slightly, not to draw steel, but to remind everyone that steel had rules here.

Rhaenyra spoke before Daemon could continue. "Sit, Lord Otto." Otto looked at her. "Sit," she repeated, "or stand under guard. I have little patience left for men arranging posture while blood dries at the Dragonpit."

He sat. Daemon’s mouth curved faintly, but he said nothing. That restraint surprised no one more than the men who remembered him better.

Rhaenyra turned to Tyland. "The harbour?"

"No royal ship departed after the first watch without record," Tyland said. "Two small vessels left shortly before dawn, both merchant-owned and bound south. I have ordered them watched if they are intercepted, but if the princes took dragons, ships are not the first concern."

"They took dragons," Daemon said. "Sunfyre is gaudy enough to be seen from half the Crownlands. Vhagar will be seen by anyone with sense enough to look up and pray."

Larys tilted his head. "If they are going to Oldtown, they may call it seeking sanctuary until the matter of succession is settled."

Rhaenyra looked at him. "There is no settled sanctuary for a prince who flees lawful summons and leaves dead men behind."

Larys’s expression remained mild. "I describe the argument others may use. I do not endorse it."

"No," Daemon said. "You prefer midwifing arguments and denying the child."

Larys did not answer, which was wise.

Rhaenyra looked to Otto. "Did you order Aegon and Aemond to leave the city?"

"No."

"Did you send warning to them before Grand Maester Orwyle confirmed my father’s death?"

"No."

"Did any man in your service, household, or confidence carry such warning?"

Otto’s eyes held hers. "Not by my command."

"That is not the same answer."

"It is the honest answer available to me."

Rhaenyra leaned back slightly. "Convenient honesty has become crowded tonight."

Otto’s voice stayed even. "Aegon and Aemond may have feared for their safety. You have placed guards around Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena. You have prepared a coronation with haste. If they believed themselves in danger, their departure may have been foolish, even unlawful in parts, but fear is not treason."

Daemon laughed once, without warmth. "Three dead Gold Cloaks disagree."

Otto’s face hardened. "If Prince Aemond was confronted by armed men, the circumstances must be examined before judgement is passed."

Rhaenyra’s composure thinned but did not break. "They were Gold Cloaks obeying my order that no royal dragon leave without command from the Crown. Aemond did not meet bandits in an alley. He killed men enforcing the lawful security of the Dragonpit after the king’s death."

Jasper finally spoke. "Your Grace, there may be legal distinction between resisting detention and open rebellion. The deaths are grave, but we should preserve language carefully until statements are taken from all witnesses."

Daemon looked at him. "You would like the bodies to wait for grammar."

Jasper stiffened. "I would like the Crown’s accusations to survive scrutiny, my prince."

That was fair enough in shape and suspect enough in source.

Rhaenyra held up a hand before Daemon answered. "The witnesses will be questioned. The dead will be honoured. The language will be precise. None of that prevents action."

Otto watched her. Perhaps he understood then that the first hour had truly passed. He had not shaped it. His grandsons were gone. His daughter and granddaughter remained under watch. Daemon had arrived. Rhaenyra had cause.

She gave the order without raising her voice.

"Lord Otto Hightower, you are confined under guard pending investigation into the unlawful flight of Princes Aegon and Aemond, the deaths at the Dragonpit, and any attempt to obstruct the lawful succession of King Viserys’s named heir."

The room went still. Otto did not. He rose with great care. "You would arrest the Hand of the King before your coronation?"

"I am arresting a man suspected of acting against the Crown during the hour of the king’s death. Your office does not place you above inquiry."

"My service to your father deserves better than suspicion born from panic."

Rhaenyra’s face tightened at the mention of Viserys, but her voice remained steady. "My father’s service from you deserved better than his sons fleeing before his final breath was cold."

Otto had no clean answer to that. Ser Lorent stepped forward. Ser Steffon moved with him.

For a moment, I thought Otto might refuse and force hands upon him before the council. He did not. He was too disciplined for that, or too aware that dignity was the last weapon available in a room where he had lost movement.

"I will go under protest," he said.

"Your protest will be recorded," Rhaenyra replied.

As Lorent and Steffon took positions at either side of him, Rhaenyra turned to the door.

"Bring Ser Curtis Crakehall."

Curtis was already under watch outside the chamber, summoned after the first full report from the Dragonpit. He entered with two guards behind him and one white cloak on his shoulders that suddenly looked less like honour than accusation. His eyes moved first to Otto, then to Daemon, then to Rhaenyra.

"Ser Curtis," she said, "where were you during the final hour of King Viserys’s life?"

Curtis bowed stiffly. "In my assigned quarters, Your Grace, until summoned."

"Who can confirm that?"

"My sworn brothers may know I was not on duty."

"That does not confirm where you were."

His jaw tightened. "I did not assist the princes in leaving."

"I did not ask that yet."

Daemon smiled slightly. Curtis did not look at him.

Rhaenyra’s gaze remained fixed on the knight. "Prince Aemond was formerly under your instruction. You were corrected for overstepping with my sons. You remained close to Queen Alicent’s household and to Lord Otto’s circle. Now Aemond has fled the city and killed men at the Dragonpit. Until we know who warned him, who opened paths for him, and who failed to raise alarm, you will be confined."

Curtis’s anger showed faster than Otto’s. "I am a Kingsguard knight."

Lorent’s voice cut in, quiet and hard. "Then behave like one while your conduct is examined."

Curtis turned toward him. "Lord Commander, this is an insult to the white cloak."

"No," Lorent said. "Helping princes escape lawful authority would be an insult to the white cloak. Questioning whether you did is duty."

Curtis looked toward Alicent’s empty chair as if expecting support from someone not there. There was none.

Rhaenyra spoke again. "You will surrender your sword to Lord Commander Lorent until the inquiry is complete."

Curtis hesitated. That hesitation condemned him more than anger would have. Every eye in the room moved to his sword. Lorent extended his hand. After a long moment, Curtis unbuckled the belt and placed sword and scabbard in his commander’s grasp. His face had gone pale with fury.

"This will be remembered," he said.

"Yes," Rhaenyra replied. "Most things are, eventually."

Curtis was taken away after Otto.

The council chamber felt larger without them and more dangerous because absence had its own gravity.

Alicent would learn soon. Helaena would learn after, if she had not already guessed from the movement around her doors. The court would learn before sunset that Otto Hightower was held, that Ser Curtis had been stripped of his sword, that Aegon and Aemond had escaped the capital, and that blood had been spilt at the Dragonpit.

There would be no pretending the succession was merely ceremonial now.

Tyland spoke first after the door closed. "Your Grace, the arrests will cause fear."

Rhaenyra looked at him. "Good. Fear may remind some men that the Crown still has teeth."

He accepted that with a careful nod.

Larys’s eyes remained lowered. "There will be questions regarding Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena."

"They will be treated with honour," Rhaenyra said. "Their apartments will be guarded. Their servants will be limited to those known to us. Their letters will be reviewed. If any man calls them prisoners, he should explain why Aegon abandoned his wife, children, mother, and father’s corpse before dawn."

Larys looked up. "A sharp answer."

"A true one."

Daemon leaned against the table, arms folded. "Proceed with the coronation. Aegon has fled to raise strength. Crown yourself before he finds men willing to kneel to a rumour."

Rhaenyra’s eyes moved to him. "I am aware of the need."

"I know. I am saying it aloud because some men in this room are still wondering whether caution can be stretched until it becomes surrender."

Jasper looked offended but did not speak.

Rhaenyra rose. "The coronation remains within three days. The funeral rites for my father will be prepared with honour. The inquiry into the Dragonpit begins now. Ravens already fly. Every lord who receives them will know the truth before Otto’s version reaches them: Viserys is dead, his named heir rules, and two princes have fled lawful authority after spilling blood."

She looked around the table, one face at a time. "Anyone who finds that unclear may ask me directly."

No one did.

When the council ended, Daemon walked with us into the corridor. For the first time since entering, grief showed through his anger, though it came out as something harder than tears.

"I should have been here," he said.

Rhaenyra’s face softened only a little. "You could not have stopped him dying."

"No. But I might have enjoyed watching Otto realise he had fewer doors."

"He has fewer now."

Daemon looked toward the passage where Otto had been taken. "A cell is better than a door."

"Temporary confinement," Rhaenyra said.

He gave her a look. "Call it what the council requires. I know what iron means."

I intervened before they found an argument neither needed. "Aegon and Aemond are the immediate danger. Otto in chains is useful only if we still move faster than his ravens."

Daemon’s gaze shifted to me. "And do we?"

"We began before dawn."

That satisfied him more than praise would have.

Rhaenyra stopped outside the king’s chamber. The guards stepped aside. Inside, Alicent still kept vigil beside Viserys. Soon she would be told her father had been arrested and one of her sons had made himself fugitive while the other followed him into open defiance.

Rhaenyra stood before the door a moment, gathering herself.

Behind us, the Red Keep moved with the sound of a castle learning that grief had become crisis.

"My father died only a few hours ago," she said softly. "And already his house is breaking around him."

Daemon’s voice was low. "Then crown the piece that still holds."