Hugh Hammer (ASOIF/SI)

 "And remember, we stay in formation, all of us, and keep our eyes

 peeled… Vhagar is supposed to be in Harenhal but he could fly to

 Kings Landing in a day or two, and we would never know he was

 there in time."

 Ulf supressed a yawn, it was far too early in the morning to be up

 and about, well before dawn and it was cold, autunm was already

 well advanced and winter felt like it was not too far behind. Hugh was

 rabbiting on about flying in formation, the so called 'finger four'

 formation that the two flights of four dragons each was supposed to

 adopt on the flight across Blackwater Bay to Kings Landing.

 He could not see the point of it if he was honest, Vhagar would not

 be present, and the other dragons present in Kings Landing were

 either too small to pose any threat or their riders were incapacitated.

 Sunfyre was still unaccounted for, but King Aegon was apparently

 too injured from the battle at Rooks Rest to mount his dragon.

 Sunfyre was also apparently badly wounded, so to Ulf's mind all this

 preparation and 'formation flying' was just more of Hugh's nonsense,

 all part of his desperate, pathetic attempt to ingratiate himself with

 the Targaryens. Like these idiotic lamps they were all supposed to

 carry, with shaded panels, white for aft, red for left and green for the

 right-hand side. The lamps were affixed to the rear of each saddle

 and were supposed to assist with formation flying when the light was

 bad.

 Mounting Silverwing he still could not understand what the delay had

 been, after he had defeated the Three Daughters the Queen should

 have struck immediately at Kings Landing, and be dammed, ending

 this rebellion with one swift stroke.

Even after Silverwing had recovered they had still waited and waited,

 until some six thousand men from the Vale had arrived by sea to

 Dragonstone. These knights, Men-at-Arms and levies would be

 joining in the assault on Kings Landing, but strangely not directly.

 Instead of attacking the city these men of the Vale were to be landed

 to the north and south of the city, two- or three-days ride away and

 were to sweep in towards the capital. Only a small contingent of

 them were to be landed directly beneath the walls of Kings Landing.

 Ulf could not really understand it, until he had overheard some

 soldiers talking - they were being landed away from Kings landing

 and were to block the roads to prevent any escape by members of

 the current court.

 Still, Ulf, if he had of been in charge, would have had the troops join

 in the attack directly, use the dragons to blast down the walls and to

 clear a path to the Red Keep with dragon fire. Simpler and easier to

 his mind, and he got to rain fire down that way. Ahh, how he had

 loved the feeling of sweeping down and Silverwing unleashing fire

 upon the fleeing ships of the Three Daughters, there, there was

 nothing like it. Not even fucking came close to the feeling of power

 and domination it gave him. And he had hoped that the dragons

 would be called upon to use their fire in the assault on Kings

 Landing.

 But to Ulf's disappointment the plans for the taking of Kings Landing

 did not depend on dragon fire, they seemed to depend on using the

 threat of dragon fire instead. But why threaten when you can actually

 use it? If you draw your sword, you should be prepared to use it, was

 that not a lesson everybody knew?

 Anyways, they would fly to Kings Landing and apparently men loyal

 to Prince Daemon would open the gates for them and it would all be

 over with as little fighting as possible. The Dragons were to circle the

 Red Keep and the Dragonpit during the assault, they would only be

 called into action if required to supress any resistance. He would be

 flying with Nettles, Addam and Hugh, and they would take up station

above the dragonpit. The Queen, Prince Daemon, Prince Jacaerys

 and Princess Baela would orbit the Red Keep.

 A complicated signalling plan had been worked out but Ulf barely

 understood any of it and so he had ignored it, he would trust himself

 and Silverwing to know what to do in any eventuality.

 His mount was skittish and seemed out of sorts as he mounted her,

 a few none to gentle lashes of the whip soon got her calmed down,

 he ignored the disapproving looks Hugh was giving him from atop

 the much larger Vermithor.

 Hugh was as usual wearing his ridiculous get up, though he had

 chainmail draped over the top his sheepskin coat, and he sported a

 red silk scarf around his neck. Ulf preferred to wrap himself in a

 cloak and wore much the same garb as he had worn as a Man-at

Arms.

 The other four dragons took to the air first, then it was their turn,

 climbing up over the dark waters of Blackwater Bay and setting the

 snouts of their beasts to the west and Kings Landing. They climbed

 higher and higher, higher than Ulf had ever been he reckoned,

 behind them the sun peaked over the horizon and fans of sunlight

 started to illuminate the sky.

 Ulf kept up the ridiculous 'lookout' schedule that Hugh had proposed,

 explaining the reason why they were flying in the formation that they

 were, keeping his 'sector' under what looked like close surveillance.

 In truth he only moved his head about in a semblance of keeping a

 lookout, there was no need for this farce, this mummery. No other

 dragons would rise to meet them, even if the attack on Kings

 Landing was betrayed there was nothing even Vhagar could do

 against eight dragons.

 And if Vhagar was present, well it would be a shame if Hugh fell to

 the old beast, would it not? Ulf let this pleasant thought, and the

 thoughts of the brothels and taverns of Kings Landing sustain him for

 the rest of the flight.

As Kings landing came into view Ulf spied the ships of the invasion

 force disgorging their troops onto the long stretch of beach to the

 immediate north of the city. As he remembered the troops would be

 landing beyond the range of any of the defenses atop the walls, and

 that said defenses would in all likelihood be compromised. Sure

 enough he spied the troops gain the Rosby road and advance

 towards the Iron Gate, with no sign of any reaction from the

 defenders on the walls.

 As they crossed over the city walls and approached the Dragonpit

 Ulf saw soldiers streaming through the open Iron Gate. He smiled to

 himself, so far so good.

 They started circling the Dragonpit in wide, lazy turns, not dipping

 any lower at Hugh's insistence, Ulf wanted so badly to drop down

 lower and skim over the tops of the houses, so see men and women

 running hither and thither in panic. But no, that humourless prick kept

 them high above, circling like great fucking pigeons, he was tempted

 to dive Silverwing down for a bit of fun, but Prince Daemon had been

 the one giving the orders back on Dragonstone, and he had been

 quite insistent. And though Ulf hated Hugh, he feared Prince

 Daemon, for who would not fear the Rogue Prince? He wanted to

 keep his head and his stones to enjoy the delights that Kings

 Landing was sure to offer. And so, he kept his place and circled

 around in formation again and again and again.

 He kept his eyes open though, mainly watching the Red Keep and

 ignoring anything else, only paying the minimum attention necessary

 to flying, though truth be told Silverwing was more than capable of

 staying in formation with little or no input from him.

 As the rays of the sun peaked over the eastern walls of Kings

 Landing they cast great shadows over the city, as did the looming

 Red Keep. Around the Red Keep itself the other four dragons circled,

 at a similar height to them and keeping a respectful distance form

 any scorpions that might threaten them.

Ulf let his gaze rove over the city, the great, fortified gatehouses, as

 big as most keeps; the squares that backed each one of then, the

 sites of markets on set days apparently. The great, wide avenues

 that bisected the city, the huge, central square that saw four of the

 major thoroughfares converge, the urban barracks of the City Watch,

 looking like castles dotted about the sprawl of red tiled rooftops.

 From the height they were flying at people looked smaller than ants,

 little bigger than grains of sand, starting to go about their daily

 business.

 The tide of Vale men from the Iron Gate reached the Red Keep and

 the great, paved square that stood before the main entrance of the

 Red Keep. It marched forwards and into the Red Keep, encountering

 no resistance and after a few more minutes the golden dragon

 banners of King Aegon Targaryen. 2nd of his name fluttered to the

 ground and in their place the quartered banner of Queen Rhaenyra

 Targaryen, 1st of her name flew in the breeze.

 And that appeared to be that; they kept up their circling for what

 seemed to be another half an hour before they were directed to land

 at the Red Keep.

 Upon alighting there was a brief round of congratulations and well

 wishes before they were directed to fly to the Dragonpit, where their

 dragons would be stabled. Nettles made a scene and insisted that

 Sheepstealer would never be chained in the Dragonpit, and she flew

 off in anger on her mud brown beast.

 Ulf wondered if he had made such a scene would the reaction have

 been a shrug of the shoulders and an acceptance of a rejection of a

 command from the Lord Protector. He supposed not, but then again,

 he did not have a cunt, which no doubt that ugly bitch was using, it

 being the only way to his mind to excuse the casual reaction to

 Nettles behavior.

 Once at the Dragonpit Silverwing was led to what apparently had

 been her stable and the great bitch made a few circling turns, for all

the world like a dog was wont to do, and promptly fell asleep, not

 even waiting for her handlers to serve her any food.

 They all then rode to the Red Keep for a celebration feast, the city

 having fallen to them with nary a death or violence. And more

 importantly all the previous royal family and Small Council had been

 taken, only the Master of Whispers having managed to escape.

 All in all Ulf reckoned that this was the type of battle he liked, despite

 the lack of getting to burn things from atop Silverwing, he would take

 this kind of 'soldiering' over any other type everyday of the week.

 As he settled into a wine coddled sleep in the quarters assigned to

 him in Maegor's Holdfast Ulf the White was pleased with himself and

 his achievements. The war must surely be nearly won, and he had to

 look to making sure that he got something better out of all of this

 than a mere Knighthood and a piddling few acres on Driftmark.