Rhaegor did not choose to go to the Eyrie with the three mercenary knights. To him, there was little purpose in visiting the Vale; instead, he planned to head directly to Storm's End to see what exactly the Baratheon lord intended to do.
"The numbers keep growing," Rhaegon remarked cautiously, eyeing the many new camps that had sprung up around theirs. After more than ten days of travel, they had finally reached Storm's End. By the time they set up camp in the nearby woods, a considerable number of mercenaries and hedge knights summoned by the Baratheon lord had already gathered there, along with levied peasants from the villages under the stag's rule.
Knights with their own tents, like Rhaegor and his companions, were a minority. Most people were left to rest against tree stumps under the open sky. Only the more organized mercenary bands had somewhat orderly and livable camps.
As more and more people arrived, even the blacksmiths and merchants of Storm's End could not resist the opportunity to make a fortune and rushed out to do business.
But before that, Rhaegor and his group managed to make a small profit of their own. On the road to Storm's End, the three youths secured a merchant's commission thanks to their six horses, three sets of complete armor, and their weapons, escorting him safely to a market town near Storm's End.
They earned one hundred and twenty silver stags for the job. Along the way, Elarion also killed two bandits and looted two golden dragons from their corpses.
Unfortunately, upon settling in and inspecting them, Rhaegor regretfully informed his companions that those golden dragons were not worth much.
It was easy to tell. One bore the likeness of Queen Rhaenyra, the other the face of Aegon the Usurper. The coins minted during those months were heavily debased, as neither "king" had much regard for honest coinage.
Thus, when the war ended, that batch of golden dragons lost much of their former value. Rhaegor patiently explained Westeros' various currencies to his two companions, who clearly had not paid much attention during their lessons.
Compared to the chaos of copper coinage, silver and gold were more stable. The smallest denomination was the copper penny, the coin most commonly used in daily transactions. In these bountiful summer years, a copper penny could buy a roasted sausage or a small measure of flour. Two copper pennies equaled one copper halfpenny, the most frequently used copper coin alongside the penny. Other, rarer copper coins included the copper grain, worth four copper halfpennies, and the copper star, worth two copper grains.
Wealthier merchants, knights, and lords preferred silver and gold. The two main silver coins were the silver stag, bearing the sigil of Orys Baratheon—also the Storm King's emblem—which was the most widely circulated silver coin, valued at fifty-six copper halfpennies. The rarer silver moon, marked with a crescent moon, was officially worth seven silver stags, according to the royal mint and the Master of Coin.
As for gold, only one type of gold coin was widely accepted in Westeros: the golden dragon, featuring the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen on one side and the reigning king's face on the other. An official golden dragon was worth 210 silver stags.
However, the golden dragon was not the only gold coin in use. In the Riverlands, some still used the golden balance coin left by House Justman. Due to their rarity and high-quality gold content—true to House Justman's name—a single golden balance coin was valued at about three golden dragons.
The golden hand coins once minted by House Gardener of the Reach could still be found in southern markets, though they were smaller in size and worth only half a golden dragon.
In Dorne, while the golden sun coin of House Martell still existed, the Dornish had long accepted the institutions and currency the Targaryens brought, even as they resisted their rule. Thus, the golden sun had largely fallen out of circulation, with most melted down to forge golden dragons or other gold objects.
Even different issues of golden dragons varied in worth. The coins featuring Aegon the Conqueror, Jaehaerys I, and the dual portrait of Aegon and Draezell retained the most value. Those minted under Viserys I were slightly less reliable. The golden dragons bearing Jacaerys I's likeness were of the highest quality, making them the most valuable—though few would trade with them now.
Only now did Rhaegor realize how much he had overpaid when buying horses. He was filled with regret.
As for the golden dragons minted by Queen Rhaenyra and Aegon the Usurper…
By the Seven, their value was barely comparable to golden hand coins. And even that depended on their wear and how much base metal had been mixed in.
"We won't compete with them," Rhaegor said after checking their gear. Satisfied, he picked up the two confiscated golden dragons. "Rhaegon, we're going to the blacksmith. Elarion, I'll need you to stay behind and watch the camp."
Within their camp, there was no need to use their false names. Rhaegor's discipline ensured he wouldn't slip up in public.
"Huh?" Rhaegon was confused. "We're already well-equipped."
"I'll get you both a set of breastplates," Rhaegor said, gesturing toward the blacksmith, who was shouting over a group of nervous mercenaries. Nearby, a cart carried a pile of battered and broken armor.
The mercenaries had likely clashed with one or more well-equipped hedge knights, and those so-called "knights" had lost the fight.
That also meant that Rhaegon and Elarion had acquired new gear.
"We also have a shield," Rhaegor calculated. These two golden dragons were worth roughly 230 silver stags. If possible, they would need to add a bit more to afford two breastplates and three shields.
He pulled out another golden dragon. That should be enough, he thought.
The blacksmith of Storm's End was a burly, middle-aged man with a thick, soot-covered beard. He had just purchased five or six battered suits of armor from a group of plague-ridden mercenaries at a low price and was feeling quite pleased.
Even if he simply took these pieces back as they were, he would still turn a decent profit.
Just as he was contemplating how to deal with this scrap metal, Rhaegor arrived at his stall with Rhaegon, scanning the wares laid out before them.
Weapons dominated the selection, while neatly stacked oak shields rested at his feet. There was barely any armor in sight.
The blacksmith noticed the two boys immediately. Although he was a commoner, he had served at Storm's End for many years and was skilled at judging ages. With one look, he could tell neither of them was older than fifteen.
His gaze swept over their clothing. Rhaegor wore a fitted leather coat, clean and well-kept. Rhaegon's clothes were rougher in texture but not significantly worse—no excessive wear, no visible bloodstains. That meant either they had never seen battle, or they were the kind of fighters who left none alive.
There was also another likely possibility—they belonged to a noble house, perhaps as second or third sons, or even heirs sent out to hone their skills.
The blacksmith decided he needed to take this business seriously.
"The shields are here. If you need weapons, you can look at what I have on display. Armor needs to be custom-made. If you'd like sigils painted on your shields, just let me know," the blacksmith said, gathering his thoughts. He confidently patted his chest. "I learned painting from the maester at the castle. Describe what you want, and I can make it happen."
"We need two breastplates," Rhaegor said, producing the two golden dragons. "And three shields."
The blacksmith hesitated, taking the coins and examining them before furrowing his brow. "Ser…" He lifted his head with some effort. "Two breastplates, without any additional pieces, cost 230 silver stags. For three shields, I'll give you a discount. Altogether, that's 322 silver stags. It's enough, but—"
Rhaegor reached for his spare golden dragon, but Rhaegon quietly pressed down on his coin pouch, stopping him.
"A usurper's coin is still a coin, isn't it? Even if he's a traitor, he still minted his gold," Rhaegon said.
The blacksmith nodded. He had to admit that was true. Aegon's golden dragons were still golden dragons, though they were worth slightly less.
"We acknowledge that much. We'll price it according to the usurper's coin, but Queen Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler—her coin is backed by the kingdom's full authority. You—"
"I understand, I understand," the blacksmith said quickly, breaking into a cold sweat. Lord Borros was particularly sensitive about such matters. After the Blood and Cheese incident, he had been walking on eggshells, worried that he had offended Queen Rhaenyra's faction.
And these two boys clearly knew exactly what they were talking about, further proving their noble lineage.
He couldn't afford to offend them.
Nor could he risk bringing trouble upon himself with the lord of Storm's End.
"Ser, there's no problem—no problem at all!" The blacksmith hurried to his cart, struggling to pull out two nearly new breastplates.
These were not reforged scrap. Rhaegor could even make out the faded stag sigil that had been scrubbed from the steel.
"Ser, these are in stock, and—" The blacksmith's eyes flicked between Rhaegon and Rhaegor, measuring their frames like a tailor before decisively pushing the breastplates toward them. "They're a perfect fit. Let's call it a deal. These two golden dragons will cover everything, and I'll paint your shields for free."
"No charge," the blacksmith added with a hearty laugh.
Meanwhile, in the Riverlands…
Along the banks of the Red Fork…
A merchant caravan slowly traveled along the river.
At the front, a silver-haired man suddenly raised his hand and turned toward the carriage behind him.
"Great Master, we've arrived."