Chapter 14.1- The Seadragon's Roar

We had underestimated the pirates. And we had done so to our detriment. So much we had lost. For one, they’d burned the shipyard,, seemingly having decided that if they could not have it then neither could we. That loss would have been large enough, even if one did no consider the loss of life. Vaemond had taken the bulk of Knights with him, Corlys had sent the rest of the men at arms into the island to scout and put things in order. That meant those in the village had been a paltry amount of guards, Corlys himself, and the portion of the crew that were not battle ready. Needless to say, they were an enticing target and the loss of life from those essential bits was still yet to be fully collated. At present, we would be lucky if we could crew even two thirds of our ships. Somehow, that was still not the most drastic loss.

That lay before me on the bed now, groaning and moaning. Corlys Velaryon, the Seasnake, had heard the alarm raised about the pirates. And instead of staying still in the safety of his quarters, he had drawn his sword and moved to defend his people the best he could. The only problem with that had been that my father had never been anything more than a passable swordsman even in his prime, and those days had long passed. One pirate had slashed him across the belly, near opened his insides for the world to see. Luckily, Ben had been able to sight him from his horse while he’d been saving me and he’d been able to evacuate him.

Now, we were here.

He groaned again, and I sighed. We had milk of the poppy aplenty, but no Maester to speak off. It was an oversight that did not bear repeating. We had healers aplenty, but even I with just the basics of First aid and High school biology knew more about healing than they did. So I shut them out once they proved too foolish to countenance and I took to caring for my father alone. I bound and rebound his wounds day after day. I cleaned them every morning and every night. I saw to it that his sheets were washed and changed day and night. I slathered his bandages with boiled wine to ward off infections, and most importantly, I administered the milk of the poppy with a sinking feeling every morning and afternoon and evening. Because he should have been getting better. He should need the opium less and less as he healed, but everyday he seemed to need more to stop the pain.