Davos Seaworth looked satisfied at the cloudy night sky. It was the time of the new moon and the clouds were also obscuring the stars. He couldn't have hoped for better conditions for the operation ... well, thick fog wouldn't have been bad either. But it would work that way too.
With twenty-seven warships and eight old cogs, which he intended to use as demolition ships against the Imperial Navy, he had set out from Dragonstone for Tyrosh a little over a week ago.
The lights of the city could already be seen on the horizon, especially the beacon on top of the Bleeding Tower guarding the port entrance. Two hundred and fifty Imperial ships were anchored there - and many of them had wildfire on board.
Davos looked at his demolition ships, the holds of which were loaded with barrels of lamp oil. The crews were just beginning to saturate the sails and ropes with the flammable liquid. If only one of these ships managed to break into the port...
That was going to be the hard part. The port entrance was secured by a locking chain. So before the demolition ships could attack, the Imperials had to be persuaded to clear the way. A mock attack with a handful of ships was the best way to do this. The Imperials would send a squadron or two to meet the troublemakers ... and they'd have to lower the chain to do that.
Salladhor Saan was roused from his sleep in his cabin when the alarm bells rang. In a matter of seconds he was on his feet, pulled on his blue admiral's coat and hurried to the deck of his flagship, the 'Missandei'.
There he learned that some unknown ships were attacking the port fortifications. The Grand Admiral gave orders to the entire fleet to prepare for battle. His mind was racing. The attackers, who could only be the Westerosi or the League of Cities, had to be up to something. A needle-stick attack against the bulk of the Imperial Navy was risky to say the least. Perhaps it was hoped that a small number of Imperial ships could be lured into a trap. Outside the port and separated from the rest of the fleet, they would then be easy prey for a task force lurking under cover of night...
Salla decided to sail out with his flagship himself. He would take fifty ships with him, which should be more than enough even with the entire Alliance fleet waiting for him out there. After all, he had wildfire and in an emergency, reinforcements could still be called in.
He ordered the great chain that was stretched across the harbor entrance to be lowered to the bottom so that his ships could pass.
From the deck of his flagship, 'Bloodraven', Davos watched as a handful of large galleasses and dozen dromons rowed out of the harbor in the light of the beacon. He counted fifty-three ships. The opposing commander - who was definitely Davos' old friend Salladhor Saan - probably suspected something.
The Master of ships relied on the Imperials not to pull the chain back up so that they could get reinforcements immediately if the worst came to the worst. Otherwise his project would be doomed to failure. Davos understood very well that a plan, the success of which depended on the opponent doing exactly what you wanted, was a highly uncertain plan. Especially since Salla wasn't a fool. But there was no other way here.
When the Imperial ships had moved a good distance from the port entrance, Davos gave the signal to the demolition ships to move.
It was too dark for Salla to see flags, coats of arms, or colors on the opposing ships, but their silhouettes suggested he was dealing with the Westerosi.
That was interesting. Until now, Davos had limited himself to defending the coasts of the Six Kingdoms as best he could against the Imperial Navy and the Ironborn. There were no counterattacks on his part.
As much as Salla valued his old friend, he was certain that he was superior to him as a naval commander. Davos had been a smuggler captain; his aim was never to defeat an enemy in battle or even to command a fleet. Salla, on the other hand, had decades under his belt as a pirate and mercenary, and he had been a fleet commander before he entered Daenerys' service.
Davos knew that as well as Salla. He couldn't seriously hope to beat him in a sea battle while his fleet was outnumbered...
"Discovered more unknown ships astern!", the alarmed call of a lookout ripped him out of his thoughts. "I count eight. They're heading for the port!"
The Grand Admiral felt his entrails freeze when he suddenly realized what was going on. He gave the order to turn immediately to intercept the eight ships, which could only be demolition ships. The scorpions on the ship decks opened fire, but the targets were too far away for effective shots. Salla realized with horror that there was nothing more he could do to avert the disaster.
The defenders on the port fortifications also recognized the danger and hastily tried to pull the locking chain up again before the demolition ships could get through. But they were too slow. Two of the eight cogs could be sunk with projectiles - but the crews of the remaining six managed to ignite the flammable cargo and set the ships on one last suicidal course towards the anchored Imperial Navy before jumping overboard themselves.
The demolition ships quickly turned into huge torches. They collide with the Imperial ships, so that the fire spread to them. That in itself would have been fatal enough, but perhaps most of them would have managed to escape safely from the harbor.
But almost all of the Imperial warships had wildfire loaded. And it didn't take long for the flames to ignite it and set off a deadly chain reaction.
Before Salla's eyes, the port of Tyrosh turned into a green hell of flames. Wildfire explosions tore the night apart in close succession.
The Grand Admiral uttered a series of savage curses, knowing that two hundred of his ships were lost ... and their crews. Now there was only one thing left to do: attack and destroy the Westerosi fleet that had lured him out and made him open the port entrance.
On board the 'Bloodraven', Davos saw the inferno spreading furiously in the harbor, but it was not a triumph he felt. He thought of the crews of the cogs. Fortunately, the ships had only needed a few men to steer them on their suicide mission. They had been volunteers who knew what they were getting into. They got double wages and the crown would take care of their families.
It was planned that after the men set their ships on fire, disembark and go into hiding among the population of Tyrosh. But now that Davos saw the green flames blazing almost a hundred meters high, he couldn't imagine that anyone had made it out alive.
"Go with the Seven", he whispered roughly. Davos thought of his son, who had been killed by wildfire during the Battle of Blackwater. But there was no time for sentimentality. The crews of the surviving Imperial ships were sure to seek revenge.
If the Alliance had learned anything from the catastrophic defeat at Lys, it was that under no circumstances should the Imperial Navy be encountered in close combat. So Davos' ships kept their distance so that the enemy could neither board them nor use the wildfire launchers against them. In order to be able to defend themselves against a dragon attack, the Westerosi had plenty of scorpions and ballistae, which could also be used effectively against enemy ships.
In the artillery battle, Davos' Combat Group proved to be superior to the galley tactics of the Imperials. Most Imperial ships only had one ballista on the bow, while the Westerosi had numerous ballistae and scorpions on the broadsides. The Master of ships let his unit drive in the keel line, so that he could use his weapons optimally.
After the Imperials had lost nine ships without being able to incapacitate a single Westerosi in return, Salladhor Saan gave up the uneven battle and turned south. Davos let him go as his ships were running out of ammunition. Even so, it was a great victory ... a victory that would change naval warfare forever.