King Aenar I Volcarys
Ibben, gods how he hated the place, it was cold and freezing most of the time, with summer snows being prevalent. So much so that the dragons were not going to be of much use here, even if Aenar had been fool enough to actually use them in open air combat. They had been in Ibben for four moons now, and each day it seemed as if the Ibbenese strength and stubbornness was growing. Each day they continued to mount assaults on Aenar's wagons and supplies, and sometimes they killed the guards, and other times they got themselves killed, and yet still they continued. It was beginning to drive him mad, why he'd ever thought conquering the damn island was a good idea he would never know, something to do with youthful arrogance he supposed. Still it was beginning to cost him and the empire gold and men, and he was not sure whether or not it was truly worth it.
The armies of Valyria had assembled at Volantis that had taken time, and yet it was a necessary thing. Aenar had needed to make sure the men knew exactly what he planned to do with the Ibbenese, and to make sure that there were no traitors within the army itself. And so 90.000 men either free men or slaves had gathered under the black dragon banner of House Volcarys in the Palace of Black to hear Aenar speak, he had issued his commands, the fleets of Lys, Tyrosh and Volantis would sail forth and assail Ibben from the coast, cutting of their ports and chances of escape, the ships of Bravos and Myr as well as those of Yunkai and Pentos would land the main body of the army on the eastern coast of Ibben, and from there the battle would begin. Aenar and his wife Rhaenys has flown ahead with the Volanteene fleet, burning the Ibbenese ships that had been at port when they had arrived. Aenar's mother Nettles and his brother Daegon had flown ahead with the Pentoshi galleys and engaged in air combat with the eastern guard of Ibben.
That was what had persuaded Aenar that perhaps airborne fighting on Dragonback would not crush this rebellion. The Ibbenese were a smart people and most likely had figured out how to bring down dragons, using methods similar to the Dornish, they had used scorpions and trebuchets to bring down Aenar's mother and her dragon, Queen Dowager Nettles and Sheepstealer had plummeted into the Shivering Sea, their bodies lined with arrows as they fell, Daegon would later tell Aenar. Daegon's own dragon had died later on, from the amount of crossfire she had received, and so Aenar had issued a decree, much as he might hate it, they would not use the dragons to end the rebellion, no, they would fight on horseback and drive the Ibbenese to their knees that way. He could not afford to lose more dragons; he had not even been able to find his mother's corpse, nor that of her dragon's, the current washing them out further away from the land.
Aenar's father had taught him how to fight on horseback from a young age, having always believed that there might come a time when dragons would not serve them well, Aenar had been sceptical of that when his father had said why he needed to know how to fight on horseback, but now he was definitely grateful. There had been six battles on the ground since Aenar had made his decision, one on the outskirts of Ib Nor, a battle led by Samor Gorqo, one of the finest commanders in Essos and a man who had helped Aenar take Mantarys, that battle had lasted for two days, and in the end the defenders of Ib Nor had all been heads on spikes, the city back in Valyrian hands. A brutal display of power, that was what Aenar's men called it, Samor did not mess around, he fought and fought until the city bent or was dead, in this case the city was dead now. Still Aenar was grateful, for the fall of Ib Nor had left Ib Sor open and exposed, and so Daegon had marched with some 15,000 men to take the city where once again they had faced a difficult battle, leading to some 30,000 deaths in total. Still the city fell and Aenar sensed victory, two victories and half the Ibbish rebels were dead.
Reality had come to hit them in the face though, victories would be followed by defeat, Aenar always knew that, had been raised to expect it, and yet when it happened it still stung. He and his sister had led an army numbering some 20,000 toward New Ibbish, and there had faced an army of some 40,000 savages the Ibbish and those who had come to pay homage to Nur Savar, the rebel King of Ib. The man had not led the army, but still a hefty battle had been fought, there were countless losses on both sides, and yet at the end of it all New Ibbish remained standing in rebel hands, Aenar ordering a retreat back to the ships of Valyria in order to prevent the blood flow from continuing, humiliated, he had sat brooding on the main ship of the Valyrian fleet for the past two moons, whilst Daegon and Ormor Cor Kon another commander from Pentos took the Port of Ibben and the holy city of Ib Qor. Aenar had arrived in the Port of Ibben some days ago, not on horseback but on Dragonback. There was much that needed to be discussed and with most of Ibben under Valyrian control they needed to discuss what would happen next. Nur Savar remained in New Ibbish and he was drawing support from Vaes Dothrak, the Dothraki smelt blood as did, some of his own commanders, he knew soon enough that what he had feared might come true unless he did something about it.
The cold breeze that came in when the door opened took Aenar from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Ser Dorros standing in the doorway, his black armour and cloak stained red with dried blood. "You summoned me Your Grace?" The man asked.
Aenar nods. "I did, sit down Ser." Once the man has sat down, Aenar looks at him and says. "What news do our scouts have for us?"
Ser Dorros hesitates for a moment before saying. "Nur Savar is massing a great host at New Ibbish, and his men are building ships. It seems he is determined to reclaim Ibben from you Your Grace. And it seems as if the Dothraki wish to aid him as well."
Aenar snorts. "The Dothraki will not cross the sea, they will promise him the world, but they will not deliver. They are savages no more."
"Not the Khal who leads those who are with Nur Savar. This man has never lost a battle in the Dothraki plains, Khal Pono he is called. Our scouts say that he wishes to reclaim Dothraki prestige, and sees helping Nur Savar as the only way to do so." Ser Dorros replies.
Aenar sighs. "What would you have me do Ser? Samor holds Ib Nor, and Ormor holds Ib Qor. Nur Savar will not dare attack the holy city, not whilst there is a chance blood could be spilt there. No he will try and come here to the Port of Ibben, where the vast majority of our remaining strength sits. How many men do we have left in the city?"
"Around 25,000 men Your Grace." Ser Dorros replies.
Aenar nods. "So not enough to hold the city should Nur Savar finally land here." He sighs then and says. "I know what my mother would suggest, use the dragons and burn down New Ibbish before the man gets it into his head to sail, but my mother died from using such logic. I will not risk losing anymore family nor anymore dragons for this damn island."
"So what will you do Your Grace?" Ser Dorros asks.
Aenar is silent for a long moment and then says. "Bring my wife in, we have much to discuss."
And so Ser Dorros leaves the room and returns a moment later with Aenar's sister-wife Queen Rhaenys. His sister has always looked beautiful Aenar thinks, her dark brown hair always something he was fascinated with, and she has always been clever, more so than he. "Your Grace." She says upon entering. "You asked for me?"
Aenar nods. "Sit down Rhae." Once she has sat down, he speaks once more. "Nur Savar it seems will be mustering men to sail for here. He means to retake the city with the help of the Dothraki. And it seems this Khal whose help he has enlisted is determined to sail, despite his people's fears."
"Will they though? This Khal might believe his people will follow him, but they won't. Their fear of the Sea runs deeper than their urge to kill." Rhaenys says ever the voice of reason.
Aenar sighs then. "Yes but it seems this Nur Savar is a capable speaker, and seems very persuasive. Our men are spread out throughout this damnable island, and it would take too long to bring them all back here to wait on the man and his army. And the dragons would be brought down before they could be useful. No, I plan on taking the attack to him."
Both his wife and Ser Dorros seem surprised by this. "But my love, you fought him once before and you lost. What is there to say something similar will not happen once again? Why not use the dragons and burn them where they stand?" Rhaenys asks.
For a brief moment Aenar feels anger, such anger at his sister's words, but then he remembers she speaks the truth, and so he voices himself to remain calm when he speaks. "That is true but, that was an early attack. Nur Savar and his savages will be confident now, overtly so. If this alliance with the Dothraki is any sign, the man believes I shall simply sit here and wait for him to attack. If I do that, we shall be overrun with savages, and they shall undo all that has been done so far. I shall not allow that to happen. I and the men holding the city shall sail for New Ibbish and surround the city and attack. A raven shall be sent to Daegon, and he shall come down with his men here to hold this city."
"And what of me, my love?" His wife asks.
"You shall take our two dragons on to a ship and sail back for Volantis. No arguments, you shall understand why in time." With that he gets Ser Dorros to walk Rhaenys back to their rooms, hating how she looks so hurt, but then when the man returns, Aenar speaks for a long time, speaking of ships and battle plans that he never thought he'd have to use. Once they are done talking, Ser Dorros leaves and Aenar spends the rest of the day sat looking out over the sea, and praying what he is about to do will succeed. If not then, all his father's hard work shall fall through.
Three days later all had been planned and they had boarded the ships, 25,000 men left the Port of Ibben aboard the Volanteene war fleet and set sail for New Ibbish. Anger and blood was on the hearts and minds of many of the soldiers, Aenar knew, revenge for their fallen brothers and friends. Aenar himself merely prayed he would survive what was about to happen, if he did not, then he knew Ser Dorros would see his wife and children protected. As New Ibbish came into sight some hours later, Aenar stood aboard the ship and shouted his instructions for his men. "You know what lays there, savages who would threaten the peace of the empire. We must kill every single one of them, no matter how big or strong they are. Once we kill the men, the savages will break."
The answering roar, is enough and soon Aenar puts on his dragon helm, atop his black war horse, his silver armour glistening in the pale sunlight, as the ships dock and the bridges are put out to the ground he is one of the first onto the soil. The battle begins with the sound of a war horn, and soon the men and he are charging at the walls of New Ibbish, the archers firing arrows at the city's own defenders, and walls being battered. After what seems like hours, the arrows stop flying from the walls and the gate itself falls down, and the battle truly begins.
Steel on steel, the roar of battle, it engulfs his ears the moment he enters the walls of New Ibbish. Hacking and slashing, cutting left and right, swinging his way through a mass of bodies to remain alive. Sometimes, he wishes he was atop Mutthiah simply as it would make life so much easier, still on and on he goes, cutting down men left right and centre, until his sword runs red with blood, and there are hardly any foes facing him. Still the battle rages on around him, men fighting each other, the Ibbenese are fighting on the front lines, street to street fighting. Clever, Aenar thinks, Nur Savar has been clever here, ridding himself of his own people, and sealing his deal with the Dothraki; they will be here soon enough in their great numbers.
The fighting continues, and more Ibbenese men come pouring out of every crevice, Aenar continues fighting. Hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing, feinting left and right, hacking and slashing he goes. Men fall to his side, and in front of him, he himself takes a few blows, dents to his armour nothing more, his sword is so red he momentarily forgets that it was ever steel, and not some sort of chemical. A horn sounds somewhere far away and the sound of hoof beats is heard, and Aenar knows that the Dothraki have entered the fray, the surprise weapon that is not so surprise. His men do not falter they continue fighting even as the savages enter the horde, and begin slashing down men. Aenar begins fighting three men at once, killing one, injuring the other and then avoiding the third by bringing his shield up and waiting for the man to be swept away in the tide.
As the fighting wore on, Aenar could feel the tiredness in his bones, just as surely as those of his men who were left felt it in theirs. There seemed to be no end to the fighting, nor the number of men that the Ibbenese and the Dothraki seemed able to throw at them, Aenar's numbers were lessening gradually, and soon enough he knew they would be facing another defeat possibly even death. And then he heard it, the sound of a war horn, not just any war horn, a horn said to wake beasts from the sea, the war horn of the people of Sarvor. There was a moment's silence as all were struck dumb by the sound of the horn, and then there was a mighty roar, and the gates of New Ibbish were blown wide open and the walls of the city fell down, as the armies of Valyria came streaming of off ships and into the city and the battle continued.
The battle would become a blur for Aenar afterwards, he would remember the scene of victory as the palace where Nur Savar had taken refuge was stormed and all those in it were put to the sword, but other than that not much would remain clear to him for sometime afterwards. The morning after the battle of New Ibbish, he found himself in the great hall of the palace, his arms heavily bandaged, his neck sore and his head pounding with pain. But there was a sense of victory in the air, the men were celebrating, had been celebrating. Ser Dorros spoke to him then quietly. "Your Grace, they found Nur Savar and his main advisors, hung from the rafters of a brothel. The city has been completely destroyed, and the rest of the rebels have bent the knee."
Aenar nods. "Very well, and what of the rest of Ibben?"
"They remain under your command Your Grace, awaiting your orders. The Queen sits in the Port awaiting you." Ser Dorros replied.
"Very well. I want a decree drawn up stating that from this day forth Ibben shall remain a protectorate. It shall be sovereign in all ways but one, it cannot wage war without the consent of whomever sits on the throne in the Black Palace. It costs too much to rule this island of savages from Volantis, I will not shed anymore blood on it." Aenar says.
Ser Dorros nods, and so it all comes to an end. When Aenar returns to Volantis some two moons later, at the court session the decree is read before all, and is made official. It is decided that Aenar's daughter Daenys shall wed one Kohro Mor Val a boy of six whose father was chosen by the people of Ibben as their new leader following the decree. And so it is that in the fourth moon of the 163rd year after Aegon's Landing that peace finally comes to Valyria, there will be no more fighting.