Chapter 8
The platform had been built in quick succession by the Gold Cloaks once they heard who needed it and what it was for.
And despite the early hours of the morning and the light rain that had begun to sprinkle across King's Landing, a large crowd had gathered around the platform at the foot of Rhaenys' Hill.
The silent anticipation broke as cheers went up from the Small Folk when they saw Meleys, Caraxes, Syrax, and Arrax appear from the Dragon Pit and begin flying in the sky above them. And the cheers grew in volume when they saw a group of Gold Cloaks marching through the crowd with Prince Daemon astride a large warhorse at the head.
Behind Prince Daemon, astride their own steads was Princess Rhaenyra and Princes Rhaenys, both still in their riding clothes as Lord Corlys rode his horse behind them, the ax he had carried into battle at the Stepstones strapped to his back.
Following them were the newly sworn shields of Princess Helaena and Prince Lucerys, both with new cloaks and armor to replace the white garb of the Kingsguard.
Ser Arryk's new armor was black while his cloak was a deep red color that reminded everyone of blood, the colors of House Targaryen.
Ser Erryk's now wore silver instead of the grey and white plates of the Kingsguard and a blue cloak that had a greenish hue to it. He was wearing the colors of House Velaryon.
The cheers then turned to shouts of outrage as rotten fruits, vegetables, fish, and even horse dung were thrown at the prison cart that was taking up the rear. Inside, squished against the bars and forced to stand in the cramped space, were five midwives and a maester. All of them were huddled together and trying to avoid the rotten food being thrown at them to no avail, they were covered in the stinking things before they reached the platform.
When the Lord of the Tides, The Rogue Prince, The Queen Who Never Was, and The Realm's Delight stood atop the platform, all four of the dragons landed behind them, roaring in unison as the Small Folk cheered and the six in the cart trembled in fear.
One of the Gold Cloaks placed a block at the front of the platform while another opened the cart. The Cargyll twins reached inside to grab one of the women and forcefully marched her, kicking and wailing, up the platform's steps.
To Corlys Velaryon who was now holding his ax, and Daemon Targaryen who had Dark Sister in hand.
There was no explanation.
None were needed.
Dyana had sought out Lord Caswell who happily spread the word to the staff, both in and out of the Red Keep.
Sara told her family and friends who then began chattering with everyone they knew until word had spread throughout King's Landing that an execution was going to take place.
The crowd roared when the first woman was forced to her knees and her neck shoved onto the block.
Corlys looked to Daemon who nodded and stepped forward. He got into position and raised his ax.
Daemon watched the blade make an arch and slice through the woman's neck like a hot knife into butter. The woman's head fell to the ground and began rolling toward the crowd. Hands grabbed it and the head soon disappeared as people began throwing the bits they had torn off the skull further back.
And the Rogue Prince had one thought in his head,
For Aenyra.
The Cargyll's brought the second woman and this time, Daemon was the one standing by the block with Dark Sister.
When the sword found its mark and the head rolled, Daemon watched it go while thinking,
For Aemma.
And when the third was dragged forth and her head was taken by Corlys, Daemon tightened his grip on his sword and thought,
For Lucerys.
This repeated twice more.
Swish.
Schtwik.
Thump.
For Aenyra.
Swish.
Schtwik.
Thump.
For Aemma.
Then Mellos was brought up and Rhaenyra stepped forward.
A hush fell over the crowd as Daemon handed Dark Sister over to her without hesitation.
The Princess walked to the maester who was being held down by the twins and stared at him.
Everyone was holding their breath.
She raised the sword over her head and brought it down in a graceful arch.
The crowd cheered.
The dragons roared as the women's bodies were deposited onto the ground before them.
Mellos' head disappeared into the crowd, followed shortly by his lifeless corpse.
The Small Folk tore what was left of the despicable maester apart until his bones were nothing but dust.
It was over now, and the crowd thinned slightly as some left while others watched the dragons feast on the midwives' bones.
As Daemon descended the steps of the platform and remounted his horse, one last thought filtered through his mind.
For Lucerys.