The official reason Viserys gave for appointing Ock Velwater—this "new noble"—instead of one of his trusted Kingsguard, was his concern for Rhaella's safety.
No one questioned the decision further after that.
When Ock heard the news, he was stunned. He hadn't expected Viserys to choose him.
But once the surprise wore off, he was too excited to sleep. This ant new honors, new accomplishnts.
Even so, the other Kingsguard weren't entirely reassured. Over the next few nights, they took turns cramming as much military strategy into his head as possible—especially on the topic of battlefield command.
They didn't hold anything back.
Due to limited ti, Ser Gerold made the final decision: together with Willem and another Kingsguard, they chose to teach Ock the tactics for commanding archers.
They taught him how to position archers in different terrain, how to anticipate the effect of wind on arrow trajectories, and how to read battlefield conditions quickly.
anwhile, preparations for the expedition included the careful selection of three thousand soldiers.
Only a few of them wore armor initially, as Viserys had promised to distribute proper gear once they arrived.
These soldiers were handpicked—most were from Dragonstone, Crab Isle, and Tideshead Island. Many were originally from the peninsula of the Crabs, though they had long served in the Dragonstone fleet.
Their combat ability was secondary. What mattered most to Viserys was their loyalty.
Many had families still residing on Dragonstone.
Viserys's rewards for military rit were also generous—he didn't bother with outdated noble titles. After all, once he started giving out too many, dukes and barons would quickly lose value.
Instead, he granted land directly.
One enemy head earned twenty acres of land—permanently owned, inheritable by their descendants.
At present, his strength didn't allow for grand claims of "national ownership," nor did he intend to lecture these soldiers—many barely educated—on the difference between ownership and usage rights.
It was far more effective to tell them plainly: this land will be yours.
Alongside the soldiers, two thousand farrs were recruited.
To attract them, Viserys offered a three-year tax exemption for newly cultivated land. Most of them were married n with families.
This secured their loyalty—and, in tis of crisis, their potential as military reserves.
One of these farrs was nad Jason. He and his wife had four children in ten years—all strong and healthy.
His wife believed it was a blessing from the Seven.
Jason had long lived on Dragonstone, but the land there was barren and poor.
When Viserys spoke of rich, fertile land by a great river—land their sons could one day inherit—Jason could no longer remain still.
"You must take care. The children and I will be waiting for good news," his wife told him, cradling their youngest daughter in her arms.
"Don't worry," Jason replied. "His Grace is a drear. If any danger cos, we'll see it coming long before it arrives."
He looked longingly at his daughter. It wasn't easy leaving ho.
But what gave him peace of mind was the fact that Viserys had already provided their family with half a year's worth of food rations.
And not just that—he had ordered the families of the recruits to be housed together, with soldiers assigned to maintain order and keep them safe.
Without this level of care, most n wouldn't have been able to abandon their hos and farms.
Jason's wife nodded. She understood. Without Viserys, Dragonstone might have already fallen.
Soldiers and bandits were often one and the sa—just look at what had beco of King's Landing.
After saying his goodbyes, Jason arrived at the designated gathering point.
There, he discovered many others like himself.
Then he saw sothing unexpected—a group of boys, around fourteen years old, standing tall and solemn. They, too, were preparing to cross the Narrow Sea.
Jason couldn't help but wonder what use boys like them could possibly be. Certainly not for war—not yet. Most didn't even look strong enough to plow a field.
Others had similar thoughts.
But Viserys had already divided the children of the Crab Claw Peninsula into "classes" based on age.
Class One included the oldest, with an average age of fourteen or fifteen.
Viserys planned to keep them close once they reached the Eastern Continent—secretly forming them into his own elite bodyguards.
A hidden trump card, unknown to any of his enemies.
If he intended for these boys to beco future officers, then they would need to be tempered through fire and blood.
In two more years, they would be of age—and Viserys would have a cohort of loyal, literate, and well-trained commanders.
His army would surpass anything this era could field.
Once he established firm control over Gohor, Viserys also intended to select more children from the families of these pioneer farrs, training them at his academy.
When those families realized that their children could one day beco magistrates or generals under House Targaryen, they would bind themselves wholly to his cause.
They would beco the backbone of Targaryen expansion into the east.
The first ti Viserys had left Dragonstone, he had taken five ships.
This ti, he commanded fifty.
Half of them were captured vessels from the Battle of the Gullet—taken from the fleet of Greenshield Isle. Many had been rchant ships repurposed for war.
The rest were old, decommissioned ships from the Dragonstone fleet.
After transporting the troops to the Eastern Continent, all fifty ships were to be sold to Frego.
And Viserys wasn't the least bit sentintal about it.
At the docks, as the ships prepared to sail, Queen Rhaella stood watching, overco with a desire to board.
Even Rhaegar had never gone so far from her.
Now her youngest son was sailing beyond the Narrow Sea.
Lately, she often found herself poring over maps, tracing her fingers across them again and again. Her eyes always landed on Braavos.
As if, by staring at that spot, she could sohow see her child.
"Don't worry. Viserys will be fine," Elia whispered gently.
Rhaella nodded. She knew it was true. After all, Arthur was with him.
Just as the fleet was preparing to set sail, an unassuming ship arrived at the harbor.
It was the Red Viper's ship.
After officially informing Robert that Dorne would no longer support House Targaryen, Oberyn had made straight for Dragonstone.
It wasn't his fault Dorne refused support. That was Dorne's choice—not his.
"Your Grace," he said to Rhaella, "may I join the fleet to Braavos? I believe I may be of use to King Viserys."
Rhaella looked at the Red Viper. He had just returned from eting with Robert.
If it had been anyone else, she might have turned them away on the spot.
But with Elia now living on Dragonstone, Rhaella no longer feared any hidden motives from Oberyn.
"You have my thanks, Prince."
She respected both his martial prowess and his cunning.
With him by Viserys's side, her son would be all the safer.
And so, under the personal farewell of Rhaella and Elia, the Red Viper, Ock Velwater, and Davos set sail for Braavos—escorting three thousand soldiers and two thousand farrs across the sea.
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