The Eminence in GOT

Chapter 55 - Interlude. Encounters. Random and not so random

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***

P.O.V. Robb Stark

The beginning of the seventh month of the year 299 A.D.E.

The Northmen's main stake, the outskirts of Coldhall, Western Lands.

Things were not going according to plan.

It's been just under six months since I learned of my father's death in King's Landing. And the subsequent coronation of me as ruler of all lands north of the Blackwater.

King of the North. Sounds proud.

King of the North and the Trident. Sounds proud and strong.

If only I could live up to that title.

It was a good start to the war. Made a not-so-pleasant deal with Walder Frey, getting 5,000 more not-so-bad soldiers into my army. Victory in the Whispering Woods, where trapping a proud Jaime Lannister proved that being a Kingsguard doesn't make you a good warrior or commander. The massacre at Riverrun, where the West's forces, caught by surprise, were nearly overwhelmed except for a southern detachment that quickly withdrew towards the Golden Tooth. Not two months into the war, the lions had lost nearly ten thousand men killed and captured.

After this failure and my threat to come to the capital and personally execute Joffrey Waters, Tywin Lannister and his army locked themselves in Harrenhal.

I was offered to march on him, and afterward on King's Landing, to avenge my father. But I refused, to the disappointed sighs of the lords. Though the rest of us considered old Hoar Castle a ruin, the tallest walls on the continent and the deepest provision cellars during the war meant a lot. Our forty-thousand troops, though they had suffered losses but were replenished by the River Lords, would simply not have been able to take this fortress defended by a thirty-thousand-strong army.

So, to put the lions to sleep, to rid the Riverlands of bandits and deserters, and to find the road I needed, the Hunt for the Hunt began. Grigor Clegane, with his gang of scum, ran all over the Riverlands, ravaging towns and villages, torturing men and raping women. And the Mountain's favorite pastime of crushing babies with his giant foot while he took young girls by force caused fits of hatred and anger in all who heard about it.

Eventually, the mad dog, thanks to the help of the Brotherhood of No-Name under the leadership of Lightning Lord Beric Dondarion, was driven into a trap near the High Heart. No matter how fierce Clegane was, no matter how cutthroat his men were, when you've been relentlessly poisoned for nearly a month without rest, not even a lion can do anything. Not like his dog.

The thirty chardwood stumps on the hill had acquired the heads of freaks who couldn't even accept death with dignity, still begging for mercy. Thirteen heads each, nailed with long, thin nails, a sacrifice to the Old Gods and a reminder of what happens when people forget their humanity.

The only one left alive was Horus himself. When I was about to personally cut off his head, Ruse Bolton came up to me and offered to take him prisoner, saying that this way I could gain the very strong gratitude of some of the people of Dorne. Everyone knew about the story of Princess Elia and her son, who had been killed by Clegane, and there was no particular objection. After all, the northerners know that justice must always be done by the hands of the kin of the slain.

But this whole hunt, with its long pursuit and almost undisguised trips to the castles of the Riverlands, was necessary only to weaken the vigilance of Tywin Lannister, who had been sitting in Harrenhal the whole time, gathering the scattered remnants of his son's army. In the meantime, Theon, who had convinced me after all, went to Pyke via Seagard to his father, to persuade him to join the war on our side and attack the coast of the West. And part of my army, using the trails Gray Wind had found in the mountains, near Golden Tooth and Kamnegorka, was slowly penetrating the lions' lands, preparing to strike where they would not expect it.

Was I afraid that Old Lion, if he knew, would rush west and stab me in the back? No. Fifteen thousand Boltons, Ambers, Dustins, and Riswells had been entrenched for two months at Ruby's Brood, the legendary place where the last dragon died, a veritable man-made fortress. The lions could not move west without crossing to the northern shore of the Trident. Of course, there was the option of Tywin going across the Jester's ford, but leaving defenseless King's Landing in the rear... He wouldn't take such a foolish risk. Nor can he.

So on the first day of the seventh month, ten thousand Northmen attacked at dawn the army Stafford Lannister was assembling and training under the walls of the Golden Tooth. It was a massacre. Eight thousand untrained peasants scattered as soon as they saw the northern cavalry attack, and five hundred knights, not even awake after last night's drunkenness, did not last half an hour. And soon, at the risk of shooting the captured Stafford and fifteen other lions, the Lefford stronghold opened its gates.

A glorious victory that opened my way into the heart of the Westlands. But it was nothing.

I wondered where the Kingslayer's soldiers were that hadn't joined Tywin, scattered to the Riverlands, or joined Stafford's army. It turned out that two armies were being trained in the west, one at the Golden Tooth and one at Coldhall, a well-fortified castle just off the River Road. And the army being assembled there was very different from the rabble that had been slaughtered earlier.

Two thousand experienced Lannister lancers, eight hundred armored Kold cavalrymen, and three thousand Leffod warriors who had forgotten something outside their castle. It was only later, when a couple of prisoners were brought to me and told me what they knew, after the Grey Wind's jaws snapped in front of their noses, that I realized that six thousand good soldiers had been forgotten, and Tywin needed them now like air.

The Old Lion had originally marched into the Riverlands with an army of nearly fifty thousand men. Fifteen for the Kingslayer and thirty-five for himself. But soon it became known that Renly Baratheon had been coronated and the Spaceland and Stormlands were at war. It was to him that Mother had gone a couple weeks ago, to set up a series of agreements and discuss the withdrawal of the North and the Riverlands from the crown. The Western lords were alarmed. All their men were in the Riverlands, leaving minimal garrisons in their castles, leaving their lands almost completely defenseless. Even Tywin Lannister found it hard to deny ALL of his vassals, so five thousand warriors went back and got busy defending the paths along the Golden and Ocean Roads. They were later joined by two thousand from the defeated Kingslayer's army, and after the order to start gathering armies, a thousand went under the Golden Tooth.

But that didn't change the outcome. Six thousand against ten. With half sitting in the castle and the other half, on horseback, standing nearby in camp. We can't siege and starve them, the cavalry will stab them in the back. If we chase the cavalry - they will go deep into the West, leaving us with crossing communications and three thousand enemies behind us. Almost everyone understood this when they saw how three small mercenary bands sent to scout the battle, who had broken away from Tywin's army and agreed to serve in my army to save their lives, were turned into flight by accurate shots from trebuchets and ballistae, and crushed by a knight's spear from a nearby forest. No one wanted to lose their men, who were already few in number, in such a battle.

There was a parity in which I could not advance beyond Sarsfield and Coldhall without exposing my army to attack or engaging in battles where victory was not a future defeat.

One had to accept the idea of the head of the Highlanders of Clan Nori. Not from great wit, he suggested sending some of the army to pillage and ravage the lands available to us, which was almost the entire north of the Western Lands. Ashmark, the Rock, Windfall, the Fortress of Doom, Hornwall, the mines in the Pendrick Hills. Full larders from the recent harvest and treasure vaults full of gold. In the first week alone, our supplies were replenished with ten tons of grain, five thousand cows and pigs, two hundred kegs of ale, and twenty thousand gold dragons.

"But I haven't captured any of the lords' families" - I thought tiredly, remembering the cowards who abandoned their lands and fled to Casterly Utes. - "They would have been perfect hostages with which to pressure the western lords. But what isn't there, isn't there. We have to wait for Uncle to bring in another two thousand soldiers to finally end this standoff

«Tou-dou...- The sound of a battle horn blew sharply over the camp, and a couple of seconds later, one of the guardsmen flew into my private tent and, falling on his knees, shouted. - Your majesty, a rider with a white flag has ridden out of the castle and is fast approaching here! We've gotten a good look at him! It's Aerys Cold!

Aerys Cold. The head of the small house of Kold and the one who led the army that blocked my passage further west.

"What's he doing here?" - I thought, quickly throwing my cloak over my shoulders while simultaneously ordering the reporting soldier. - Escort him to the main tent. Take his weapons away from him. Don't touch the rest.

My thoughts rushed like snow in a gust of wind, ranging from "Is he here to surrender?" to "Is he here to negotiate?". Most likely the latter was the most correct, though I don't even know what he would be able to offer. Without Tywin's orders, the other western lords couldn't even move, and Cold's orders were long known and sounded like, "You may all die in this place, but don't let Stark go any farther."

I was the last to arrive at the main tent. All the lords present in the camp were already gathered there. Rickard Karstark, Galbart Glover, Mage Mormont, Willis Manderly, and Donnel Locke. All major lords whose troops had taken part in the march to the West. Along with several heads of minor houses and a frowning Blackfish, they made up the main group, standing beside a large oak table from which all maps and letters had been removed in advance.

Separate from them stood our present guest. The tall and trim, russet-haired lord of Coldhall, who looked like he was in his forties, stood confidently opposite my vassals and pressed them with his mere presence, ignoring the guards holding their swords.

"Hmm, it is true what they say, he looks like a northerner. Though if you remember who his father is, it all makes sense." - I looked at the man thoughtfully as I walked around him and took my place at the head of the table.

«Greetings, King of the North, Robb Stark, Lord of the First Men and all the lands beyond the Isthmus. - Kold was the first to speak, putting everyone present in a stupor from the first word. Until then, all the Western lords we'd ever met had at most called me "Dirty Rebel" or "Usurper," sometimes even going so far as to insult me. But to start a conversation respectfully, without a blade to my neck... that's never happened.

«He is not only the king of the North, but also of the Trident and the surrounding lands! - Grandfather was the first to come to his senses, setting a bad tone for the conversation.

«Now the Crown and its vassals own part of Trident, and to call a man the ruler of half of something... That sounds like an insult to me. - Hearing the answer, the lords, like me, hesitated even more. Of course, I had heard from the servants and knights captured in the Golden Tooth that Aerys Cold was a very strange man, with his quirks and peculiar sense of humor, but to be so....

«I'm glad to see you, Lord Cold. - I began the conversation, sitting down in the chair I'd pulled over and staring at the Westerner. Something about him made me uneasy. It was as if my intuition, developed and sharpened during this short war, didn't understand what it didn't like and was telling me about it. - What brings you to my camp?

«Negotiations. - The Mad King's namesake smiled even more, quickly glancing around at those present. - But before they begin, I would like to ask everyone but you and Ser Brinden to leave.

«How dare you!

«You insolent bastard!

«To leave the King alone with you!

«Quiet! Boom... - The ruckus that erupted had to be silenced with a good smack on the table and a great bellow. The heated northerners couldn't understand any other way. - Can you think of a single reason for this, Lord Cold?

He only grinned at my question and reached into the bag hanging on his shoulder and pulled out two pigtails of bright yellow and black and white from there.

"This!" - Lightning flashed through my head with a guess as to who the hair belonged to, and a rising and agitated Gray Wind confirmed my guesses even more. It was the fur of Nymeria and Sunshine, my sisters' direwolves. - Everyone out except Lord Cold. Grandfather, you stay too.

Yes, I agreed with the grumbling lords that remaining unguarded in front of a sword master, albeit unarmed, was a bad idea, but there was nothing I could do with myself. If Sansa's fate was more or less known from the rare traders who ventured across the Riverlands and the small network of informants I'd inherited from my father (though its head said he hadn't organized them), I hadn't heard from Arya or Elsa.

«What of my sisters? - As soon as the last guard was out of the tent, I asked with pressure, not caring about propriety.

«They're fine. - Kold answered, taking two letters from his pouch, sealed with unbroken seals of sealing wax, and placing them on the table. - They're in my brother's domain now, and the Lannisters don't know it. Here are their letters for you. You may read them to be sure. After that, we will continue our conversation.

Stepping out from behind the desk and picking up one of the small letters written on raven paper (p.a. meaning the format of paper that ravens can carry) I quickly broke the seal and began to read the lines written in such familiar sprawling and sharp handwriting:

"Dear Robb. I hope this letter comes to you very soon. It has been a few days since we arrived at Tempest Castle and learned of Father's death. The first two days were very hard. I wanted to take the smallest boat in the harbor and sail to King's Landing and personally slit the throats of all the baked Lannisters. But Elsa stopped me. According to her we should wait, grow stronger, and later join the war, and help you." - At this point I, involuntarily, smiled. Arya had always been like that. Wild and unbridled, more reminiscent of a true Northerner than me, Sansa, and Bran combined. - "I agreed with her and decided I needed to learn how to protect myself and turned to Lord Felix for that. And imagine, he agreed almost immediately! Not saying a lady should do this, a lady should do that, as Mother kept nagging, but handed some servant a letter and within a couple hours a yellow-skinned woman came to me and started training me. Robb, this is amazing! The spear in her hands is like a snake stinging its prey. Soon enough, I'll be able to do the same, and the living lions will be the envy of the dead. I look forward to meeting you. Your little sister, Arya Stark."

Smiling involuntarily, I quickly folded up my sister's letter and moved on to the second, written by Elsa, which made me frown very hard.

"Robb, I hope you're alright. There are so many things I want to tell you, but unfortunately the paper given to us just won't hold everything I want to tell you. First of all, a ship with twenty thousand golden dragons is due to arrive in White Harbor at the beginning of the seventh month. This is my winnings from the tournament. Use it for war as you wish. Second, in the process of escaping King's Landing, we ended up in Dorne with the Tempers. Lord Temper has agreed to let us go without any ransom, so if they demand anything from you, don't agree. The Lannisters don't know about us, and they'd better not. So please try to keep our whereabouts private. Thirdly, be careful. I happened to overhear a conversation between the lord and a woman. They said Tywin Lannister's ravens can often be seen flying toward Pyke and the Twins. Be careful of the Greyjoys and the Freys. That's all for now. May the Old Gods be with you. Your bastard sister Elsa Snow."

"This is definitely Elsa's letter," I thought as I handed the letters to the Blackfish and began absently scratching my overgrown beard. Elsa had always been like that - smart, serious and strong. I never understood what went on in her head. Her love of books, her long talks with her father in the solarium, her training with the old Braavosian who lived in Wintertown. She was always moving and doing something, no matter what her mother told her or how the other ladies looked at her.

A girl of mystery, the information she received from which made one wonder. From the huge pile of gold that would soon be in the Manderly lands, to the Old Lion's communication with my allies, all of it could bring me a lot of problems and benefits in the future. But first I had to finish our conversation with Kold, who had been standing patiently in the corner of the tent for the past five minutes, watching my great-uncle and I reading the letters excitedly.

«Thank you for the wonderful news, Lord Cold. - I thanked the man sincerely, for knowing that my sisters were out of reach of the Lannister scorchers made me breathe so much easier. - But I'm sure you're not just here to deliver letters from your brother. You're a vassal of the House of Lions and should have told them long ago where their prisoners escaped to. What do you want from me?

The question was indeed an important one. I knew that the Kolds and the Leffords were the pariahs of the Western Lords, but now Aerys was committing an act very close to betrayal. And knowing what the other lords of Westeros thought of the success of my war, it was very, very strange.

«That's an interesting question, Your Grace. The answer is simple and trivial enough. - At my raised eyebrow in question, he grinned once again and continued. - Family. Most of my family can't stand the Lannisters. My youngest sister, Thea, was Princess Elia's maid of honor and saw with her own eyes how Tywin's men killed her and the year-old Prince Aegon. She would have been killed too if I hadn't been among the stormers, stopping the Mountain in time. It hardened her so much that she married your vassal Ruse Bolton and now rules Dreadford in his name. - It came as a great surprise to me when I heard those words. To know that the wife of my strongest vassal had been at Red Castle on that ill-fated day and had such a terrible history behind her was worth a great deal. I understood her much better now. - My second sister, the namesake of the dead princess, married a few years ago to the second prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell, the Red Serpent, who with every fiber of his being wants to wring the necks of all living lions. And finally, my brother, Felix Temper. I'm sure you know of him from the stories. He led the Dornish forces that attacked the flank of the Last Dragon during the Battle of the Trident. He dislikes lions as much as you do.

«He does. - Blackfish, who had been silent until then, entered the conversation. - I myself was one of those who fought at the Ruby ford. I remember the hell that the Blood Hunter and the Blood Jackal created around them. It's not for nothing that the bards composed two songs after that - "The Stag Who Struck the Dragon" and "The Hunter and the Jackal".

«I agree. They're great for drinking ale and eating beef sausages. - The two veterans of Baratheon's Rebellion, though they'd never fought together, grinned like old friends. - Well, back to our conversation. My entire family dislikes the Lannisters in one way or another, which means I have no reason to. Why would I sacrifice my own people for a bloody senile old man and his incestuous children? Of their family, only the Imp is worthy of my respect, but with his father and little sister so fiercely loved, he won't live to see the end of the war.

After hearing those words, I almost laughed out loud. If anyone had told me of a Western lord who dared to say such a thing about Tywin Lannister, I would have considered it a bad joke. But here, that man stands before me and finds himself with very, very glorious news. Knowing that the commander of the army that blocked my way to Casterly Rock was not a loyal vassal of the lions, but rather one of those who wanted to stick a sword through their hearts, was a good prospect.

«And what do you want to offer us? - I asked, inwardly preparing to hear good news. And I was not mistaken.

«First, I will provide you with a map of the secret roads that lead through the mountains, bypassing my holdings to the central regions of the West. This will allow you to continue ravaging the lion lands without waiting for reinforcements from the Riverlands. Only please leave some of the army here so that I can explain to Lord Tywin in the future why I failed to act. - Laying out the folded parchment, Kold continued. - Secondly, I have some very bad news for you. It has come to light from Rodrik Harlow, an old friend and partner of our family, that Balon Greyjoy has once again rebelled. He has gathered the rebuilt Iron Fleet, free captains and lords from Pyke and sent them to the North and the Vale to ravage the west coast.

The news I heard almost made my knees buckle. Theon, whom I'd sent two months ago to the Iron Islands to fetch ships, had betrayed me. It just couldn't happen. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

«Do you have proof? - After the letters from my sisters were handed to me, my trust in Cold was very high. And he had no motive to lie, because if I found out about the deception, all his hard work today would be for nothing. But I couldn't believe in betraying a close friend, almost a brother.

«Of course. - The Westerner replied, once again pulling new papers out of his bag. - This is the letter from Lord Rodrik, written a month and a half ago, first sent to my brother and then forwarded to me. And this is a letter from Lord Farman, who also wrote to me about the ironborn's activity. I hope that's enough for you.

Together with my grandfather, after reading the letters and being convinced of their authenticity because of the unique seals of the lords at the end, we came to the conclusion that it was all true.

«Dirty shifter! - Brinden growled with undisguised anger, making a dent in the table with his fist. - I told you, Robb, you can't trust ironborn. And Baelon, the worst of them, even less so!

«I agree with you, Grandfather. - I answered, barely able to contain my rage. I had little doubt of the truth of Cold's words, for if I thought carefully and compared some of the facts, such as the western shore not yet burning and Lord Flint's letter of yesterday about the ships seen at Cape Kraken, it all made sense. - We had been betrayed. Letters must be sent to Winterfell, Bear Island, Darkwood, and the rest of the coastal castles to begin preparing their defenses. Thank you for such important news, Lord Aerys. - I turned to Kold standing beside me.

«No need, Your Majesty. Consider it a gift to you from my family. - With a slightly broader smile, he replied.

«Free gold is only in the dragon's mouth. What did you want for such information? - Said the Blackfish. - And don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart. The return of two Stark daughters, the passage of troops further West, and finally the news of the Greyjoys' betrayal. That's worth a lot and you must have wanted something out of it.

«Not so much. - Cauld frowned a little. - Just three things. Your agreement to future negotiations with the Temper and Kold family. A few small favors, not too heavy, like the ones old Frey forced you to do. And finally, your prisoner. - At the raised eyebrows at my uncle and me, the Westerner clarified. - No, I'm not going to free the Mountain. I'd personally like to kill him for infringing on my sister's life, but in Dorne, the first and second prince are willing to give a great deal for his head.

"Too strange terms, but there's no choice," I thought, taking another look at the man who had made this day one of the most memorable in my memory. Still, turning down someone who could let me further West, whose sister was married to someone who had my back against the Lannisters and whose brother had my sisters was not the best idea.

«Agreed, but we have much to discuss before we act. - I said, extending my hand to the Westerner for a handshake. Contracts must be sealed. - I hope our cooperation will benefit us both, Lord Cold.

«Of course, Your Majesty. - He agreed, shaking my hand firmly.

***

A few hours later, the envoy of the West walked out of the main tent with a quick step, to the loud mate and curses of Blackfish and the King of the North. For most of the soldiers and the few spies who had barely made it into the monolithic and much disliked southern army of the Northmen, it was a failed attempt at negotiation that ended in nothing.

But a few days later, change began to happen.

Grigor "Hora" Clegane, whose bloody and bitten armor was later found in the Eshmar forest, escaped. His skin, bones, muscles, and internal organs were completely eaten by hungry lions and mountain wolves, who had not seen such an abundant, albeit strong, meal in a long time.

Ravens were sent to Riverrun, Winterfell, Dreadford, and a number of northern castles where there were still trained warriors capable of fighting back. The Ironborn who had begun plundering the western shores managed to get away with it for only a couple of days before they were hunted down by angry and infuriated northerners.

Finally, two weeks later, a five thousand man corps of northerners was spotted at Oxcross, marching towards Lannisport, which was unprepared for such a thing and quickly began to panic.

The war in the West was once again gaining momentum, and the lions were once again beginning to remember the name of the Young Wolf of the Starks with undisguised fear and hatred.

***

P.O.V. Daenerys Targaryen

The beginning of the ninth month of the year 299 A.D.E.

Jade Gate Strait, Essos.

The sea was beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. The endless blue of it seemed to reflect off the cloudless sky, swaying slightly and giving me inner peace.

It had been a long year and a half since I'd married Drogo. It seemed like yesterday. A marriage that at first seemed like a curse turned out to be a blessing. Drogo, the strongest man I had ever seen in my entire life, turned out to be a kind, caring, and loving man whom I had unwittingly fallen in love with.

I had everything - a loving husband, loyal subjects, a faithful knight, and, halfway to Vaes Dothrak, a child ripening in my womb that everyone predicted would have a great future.

But it all turned to dust. First there were the assassins who tried to poison me and Drogo. We survived only because of one of his blood riders' love of drink - Kohollo had tasted the poisoned wine before anyone else, and when we were about to taste the glorious drink from Arbor, he began to choke and foam at the mouth. There was a great panic in Khalasar. The poisoner, who tried to flee the city, was caught by Ser Jorah himself and had the antidote knocked out of him, which saved the few who survived until his return.

Drogo was furious.

He swore on his blood, the blood of his horse and his blood riders that he would cross the Narrow Sea and avenge the deaths of his men by placing his son on the Iron Throne.

It took money to cross the Narrow Sea. A lot of money. Ships and crews, unlike slaves and weapons, could not be taken by force. Because of this, Drogo decided to go to Lhazar, which had prospered over the last decade, already being ravaged by Khal Ogo and his son Fogo. A battle ensued during which he personally killed both of them. But at the end he was badly wounded by one of the dead Khal's blood riders.

I then made the biggest mistake of my life. Wanting to do something to help my husband, I sent to him Mirri Maz Duur, a "god's wife" captured in one of the cities of Lhazar, famous for her skills in witchcraft, healing and sorcery. She washed and stitched up Drogo's wound, but he soon tore off the bandage with the paste of healing herbs made by Maega and ordered it to be replaced with the traditional Dothraki plaster of clay and fig leaves, despite my entreaties to him. Eventually he grew weak, contracted blood poisoning, and fell from his horse, splitting his khalasar, ready to follow only the strongest khal.

The events rolled on - Meiga's use of black magic, the loss of my child because of it, Drogo's final death, the departure of almost all of Khalasar, and the birth of my dragon children. They were the thread that kept me in this world and prevented me from trying to leave it again.

The journey to Qarth that followed, I don't even want to remember. The friendly and beautiful ancient city, with its white-skinned people and their unique and beautiful culture (although exposing one breast was too "exotic" an experience for me), turned out to be a dump where everyone wanted only two things - my dragons or my body. Often both. It was only the intercession of Xaro Xoan Daxos, who wanted to marry me off to strengthen his position among the merchants, but still told me to my face, that kept me out of the hands of the Purebloods, the Pitiful, and the sorcerers of the House of the Immortals. The latter, having tried to poison my mind with sorcerous visions and various potions, burned in the flames of Drogon, who was protecting his mother.

And now, sailing on the ships sent by Master Illyrio Mopatis, my old "benefactor" who had sheltered my brother and me when we roamed the Free Cities for our own purposes, I realized that I had come a very long and difficult way. And this could be only the beginning.

«What are you thinking, Khaleesi? - There was a deep and rough voice behind me, a voice that could only belong to one person.

«About the path we have traveled, Ser Jorah. - I answered, smiling at the tall and rough northerner, the only one who had always been at my side, even when my own Khalasar had turned his back on me. - It had been thorny and long.

«I agree, Khaleesi. But the road ahead won't be easy either. Conquering Westeros, even with three dragons," he nodded toward the dragons frolicking nearby, "... and the support of the most powerful man in Pentos, will not be easy.

«My people are waiting for their true queen to appear and free them from their oppressors. All we have to do is overthrow the rotten lords who supported the Usurper and take King's Landing, giving me back the Iron Throne that is my birthright. - I replied, mentally visualizing the vast streets of the capital and the crowds of people chanting my name and begging to be freed from the tyrant's grip.

«It's not that simple, Khaleesi. - Jorah was getting wise again. Gods, if he weren't so boring and old, he'd be worthless. Dozens of people, common and noble, poor and rich, were telling me how welcome I was in the Seven Kingdoms. As if people who were completely different and unrelated could be lying to me. - As I said, not everyone will follow you. The Starks, Arryns, Baratheons, Tullys, Lannisters and Martells were the ones who fought on the Usurper's side during the Rebellion. The only ones on the King's side were the Tyrrells, but they too chose to sit on the sidelines, feasting at Storm's End. We have no allies among the Great Houses, which means we have nowhere...

Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam.

«Ships on the horizon! - A shout came from the top of the tallest mast, interrupting Mormont's boring rant. It wasn't that I didn't see his point, but what could I do? I was aware of the fact that I couldn't get an army out of thin air. And without an army, the despots in King's Landing wouldn't even listen to me.

Soon, from behind the light fog that was far away on the horizon, the outlines of ships did indeed appear. Very large ships. The ships sent to me by Magister Illyrio, the Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes, were large, hundred-oared galleys that Belvas the Silach said could drive a large pirate gang off the Steps. But compared to the giants, whose sides were as high as the outer walls of Qarth (p.a. let me remind you that all people here are very impressionable, so don't write in the comments that the author is crazy), sails so big that they could cover a whole city square, and rams to break a battle barge in half like a dry stick, they seemed dwarfs in front of normal people. I counted only eight of them, and not all of them were out of the fog yet.

«Tempers! - I heard a loud shout of sailors from the masts, who quickly ran all over the ship and in a hurry began to arm themselves and go down into the hold, on the oars.

«Oh, for crying out loud! What's the Golden Eagle and his gang doing here?! - The elderly captain named Groleo came running up to us, as usual hurling vulgar insults in Valyrian with a very strong Pentoshian accent. - Madam, you need to hide in your quarters immediately. The ships have definitely spotted your dragons and will surely board us now. You'll be safe there.

«No," I said, glancing once more at the huge ships approaching us, the larger flags bearing a banner with a sun and purple flames burning in it, and the smaller ones a blue sun with a golden eagle spreading its wings. - I'm not going to hide like a cowardly rat. I am a dragon. And dragons don't fear flames or birds.

«..." Groleo wanted to say something else, but he met my serious gaze and, exhaling, went off to give commands to the other sailors, hurling insults and slaps at them left and right.

«You told me about the Tempers once before, Ser Jorah. - I said to the knight still standing beside me, his hand on his sword as Belvas and his old squire Arstan Whitebeard came rushing toward us. - Tell me more about them and this Golden Eagle that Captain Groleo mentioned.

- Golden Eagle..." Mormont began, scratching his thick beard thoughtfully and looking at the fast approaching ships. - It's the nickname of the heir to the House of Temper, Lyon Temper. I don't know much about him, unlike his younger sister, but I'll try to tell you what I know. He is one of the pillars upon which the wealth of his house stands. He is the one in charge of all the Tempest caravans sailing everywhere from the Summer Isles in the south, the Outlands in the far north, the Iron Islands in the west and the Golden Empire, and Ibben in the far east. He himself is quite the traveler, rumored to dream of surpassing his father and the legendary Corlis "Sea Serpent" Velarion. According to the sailor stories I heard when I was a mercenary, he's been to such faraway lands as the wild kingdom of Mossovia, the underground cities of Nefer, and the distant Isle of Elephants, from where he brought creatures to Westeros that you don't often see even in Essos.

«Why the Golden Eagle? - I asked, noticing out of the corner of my eye how Arstan's face changed as he saw the flags approaching.

«Two reasons. - Groleo answered instead of Jorah, who shrugged his shoulders. - The first was the rare golden bird he'd brought from the werewolf kingdom that always accompanied his ships. - Indeed, if you looked closely, you could see a small golden dot circling in the sky, looking very much like a bird. - And the second one you will soon realize for yourself.

Asking what he could mean, I was prevented by a long spear fired from the ballista, which flew a few meters from the ship and raised a whole lot of splashes, frightening the dragons flying not far away.

"How dare they!" - I thought angrily as I looked at the ships that had already begun to circle us, with dozens of crossbows, ballistae, and onagers on their sides, capable of turning us into a sieve in the blink of an eye. Just as many were aiming at my dragons, who had been badly frightened and were now huddled against the main mast, glaring angrily at the red-clad men.

Chick.

Chick...

Chick...

From one of the ships, whose bow was decorated with a figure in the form of an eagle spreading its wings, the boarding cats began to drop, drawing us very quickly to the side of that vessel. The "Ballerion," heretofore called the "Saduleon," was a very bulky broadside caravel with huge holds and large sails, but even so its sides were half as low as those of the Tempers' ship, which enabled the numerous crossbowmen to take us in their sights without much fear of a reply.

In a minute a wide wooden plank was thrown across our deck, and a wave of soldiers rushed onto the Ballerion, equipped with spears and large shields, or heavy crossbows, already loaded and cocked for firing. On our side, on the other hand, were the heavily armed sailors, swords already drawn, led by Ser Jorah, Belvas, and Arstan, and three dragons ready to start pouring fire on all and sundry as soon as I gave them an order.

"But it's all useless," I thought sadly, as I ran my eyes over the arrows and ballistae aimed at us, capable of sending everyone on deck to their deaths at any moment. And I really didn't want to die.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

«Stay calm, ladies and gentlemen. Just calm. We don't want unnecessary bloodshed, do we? - Asked a man coming down the gangway, jingling his steel-rimmed sabatons, from one glance at whom I understood Groleo's words.

"You see him once and you never forget him again." - A stray thought slipped through my mind as I scrutinized the man walking by.

Lyon Temper was a handsome young man in his twenties, as tall as Arstan, who towered over me by almost a head and a half. His hair, the color of purest gold, styled in a sloppy but suited to him, his correct facial features, and his incredibly rare eyes, the color of the purest ruby, rumored to come only from the mixing of undiluted Valyrian blood, made all the women on deck stare in mute shock at one of the brightest men they had ever seen in their lives. Though most of the sailors were looking more at Temper's clothing, consisting of a gold open armor with blue engraving consisting of a breastplate, massive shoulder pads, armguards, greaves, greaves, and a breastplate skirt. If it had been worn on someone else, I would have easily called it tasteless and stupid kitsch, but on the Dornish it all looked very harmonious and... right? Creating a unique and unrepeatable image, making it clear that in front of you is a man, not deprived of power and wealth, capable of many things.

And now this man has boarded my ship.

«Before you is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, the Lawful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Sea of Grass, Mother of Dragons! - I said loudly, stepping forward under the disapproving glances of Jorah and Arstan. - By what right do you dare to threaten me and my men by boarding my ship?!

There was a brief silence, broken by a sudden chuckle from the red-eyed Dornish.

«Pfft... Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha... - After looking at me carefully for a few seconds, Temper laughed heartily, to the surprised looks of his men and the angry ones of mine.

"What the hell does he think he's doing talking to the queen!" - I roared in my mind as I looked at the wretch who had finally laughed and, wiping the tears from his eyes, began to speak:

«I apologize, my lady, for showing weakness. - He bowed slightly and apologized, putting me in a slight stupor. - I have heard rumors about you. Most of them were about a little girl, a weak-willed girl who obeyed her brother, and after his death her husband, unable to speak a word against him. But I see now that it was all a lie, and for that I apologize.

"In fact it used to be," A stray thought flashed through my mind as I pulled myself together and replied:

«I forgive you, Ser Temper. I know very well how false rumors and speculations can be. But now answer me, why did you so unceremoniously stop and almost storm my ships?

«I am not a knight, my lady, but I apologize again. - Once more he apologized, putting his hand to his heart. - But when I saw the flesh-and-blood magic embodied in my Myrian trumpet," he pointed to Drogon, Viserion, and Reigal, still leering at him, "I could not deny myself the desire to look closer at them," he turned to me, "and their mother. My lady, I invite you and your companions, Ser Jorah Mormont, an old friend of my family, and Ser Barristan Selmy, the greatest knight of the Seven Kingdoms, to dine with me in my quarters.

«What?!" Jorah and I shouted at the same time, staring in shock at the unsurprised Arstan, who was only stroking his long beard in embarrassment. This old squire, who looks about fifty years old and always walks with a stick, is one of the legendary knights of the Seven Kingdoms, songs and ballads about which even in Essos know and remember! How is that possible?

«So it was a secret. My apologies, Ser Barristan. I've had to do that a lot today. - Said Temper, whom the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard looked at without any anger, but with a kindly kindred reproach. I've seen it when old slaves in Pentos look at their delinquent grandchildren.

«It's all right, young man. The truth would have come out sooner or later, so I have no cause for offense. - He answered the Dornish, and then, turning to me, kneeled down and said. - My real name is Barristan Selmy "The Brave One". Former Lord Commander of the Royal Guard. I served your grandfather Jehaerys II the Wise, his son Aerys II and his son Rhaegar the Silver in the Kingsguard. Now let me serve you as the true Queen of Westeros.

The sword, drawn from what turned out to be the folding scabbard of a staff, rested on both hands and was held out in my direction, waiting for me to take his oath.

"Too much going on today." - I thought tiredly as hundreds of swear words in Valyrian, Dothraki, and Andalian ran through my head.

In the end, we accepted Temper's suggestions. Though I had been warned not to go on the ship of those who had already betrayed my home once, there was little choice - there were too many Dornish for us to handle. Ser Barristan, who, according to Jorah, had served the Usurper, though he had sworn to serve my family, I decided to keep him by my side for now, giving him a chance to redeem himself in the future. A man who had lived among the lords of the Seven Kingdoms all his life and had left them only because of one woman's desire for a higher position for her lover-brother was very useful to me, not only as a warrior and advisor, but also as a friend. According to Selmy, he knew my father and grandfather, and was a close friend of my older brother Rhaegar. I wanted to know more about my family. My mother, father, older brother, grandparents.

«Would you like a drink, My Lady? - Lyon asked me, after a small meal of fresh fruit, roasted meat and vegetables. He had now taken off the top of his armor and was sprawled masterfully on the many cushions that lay along the large oak table, on small legs. His entire quarters, furnished in the Rojnar style, abounded in luxury and various curiosities that I had not seen even in Master Illyrio's house. For example, the huge tusk hanging on the wall was clearly not the elephants I had seen in Volantis and Pentos. - I have all kinds of wine in my holds, from the famous liquid gold of Arbor to the liquid fire of the North, one sip of which would make even a bear turn pink.

«You're talking to the queen, Temper. - Ser Jorah, who did not even think of sitting down and continued to stand behind me, as did Ser Barristan, reprimanded him. Belvas did not bother with etiquette and sat quietly on the large cushion offered to him, sipping wine from a goblet offered by one of the servants. - Watch your tongue.

«There is no need, Ser Jorah. - I stopped him, realizing that it was at least foolish to quarrel with the owner of this place. - I'd like to try the peach fire wine, famous in Essos. My brother always drank it before he gave it to me, and it was not available in the markets of Vaes Dothrak.

«Of course, my lady. - Nodding to the servants, Temper went out for a few minutes and returned with a sealed bottle, the color of purest amber because of the drink in it. Even Mormont and Selmy did not refuse the glasses offered to them, for Temper's wines had been famous for years, and not many people had been able to taste them. It was too hard to get them outside their domain.

«It's delicious. - I replied sincerely, feeling the pleasantly sweet flavor on my tongue and the rich aroma of ripe fruit filling my nostrils. Together with the pleasant warmth filling my throat, chest, and stomach, it made me feel like I was back in Braavos, in the house with the red door, surrounded by my kind older brother and stern but kind Willem Darry. It was as if I were home again.

«I am glad, my lady, that I could satisfy you. - The Dornier smiled a soft and somewhat sarcastic (maybe it seemed to me) smile at my words.

«Why do you call me "my lady"? - I inquired, having noticed this strange moment long ago. - Everyone who had ever spoken to me before had either called me queen, recognizing my claim to the Iron Throne, or tried to kill me, wanting to take away the dragons and get rid of the Seven Kingdoms' last hope for the return of a true dynasty. You treat me like a common lady, not a queen. Why is that?

«My father is a unique man in his own way. From the day I was born, he taught me to look at a man's deeds, not a line of ancestors, among whom there were sometimes honorable men. A lord can spend his life feasting in his castle, ripping off his peasants to the last thread, and die as a glorious representative of his family, whose name will be taught to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren in history class. A peasant, with a nickname instead of a name, can be the kindest of people, during his life by his own labor and then having created from a small farm a prosperous village, feeding hundreds of families. But his name will be forgotten. The next generation will glorify the lord under whom the village prospered, and the poor laborer will simply be forgotten. So I judge people on the basis of their deeds and actions, not on long pedigrees, most of which are names that can be wiped clean. - The blond grinned back, taking the glass from the hands of the black-skinned maid and taking a small sip of the drink. - I'm talking to Daenerys Targaryen now. The Mother of Dragons. Blood from the blood of ancient Valyria, widow of the Great Khal Drogo, whom she ruined with her own hands. But queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, you are certainly not now.

«How dare you! - I shouted, angry, and banged my glass on the table, spilling some of the wine across the room.

«I dare. By right of familiarity. - Temper grinned back at me, looking at me with a touch of condescension, making me even angrier. And then shocked. With a slight turn of his head, he showed off the small bell woven into an inconspicuous braid behind his right ear. - I was acquainted with your husband, Khal Drogo. We met in Saath when his Khalasar was returning from Omber five years ago. His father knew my father, they even had a ritual duel where Khal Bharbo won, so he agreed to trade the mined gems and gold in exchange for Dornish horses and good steel. After that, we met him once a year in different parts of Essos and conducted a mutually beneficial trade that brought us both very high profits. It was I who gave him his favorite arakh, which he carried with him at all times. You probably remember it - with a black engraved horse, brown braid, and an inscription in Valyrian. "The Khal's strength is the greatness of all his steeds...

«and all the men worthy to ride them." - Shocked, I continued, the old Dothraki proverb was indeed engraved on the rounded part of Drogo's arakh. But how is that possible? Only I, who could read and write Valyrian, and who he sometimes let see his weapons when I asked him to, knew. - But he never said he had any acquaintances beyond the Narrow Sea.

«Because right before your wedding, we had a very big fight. - Temper answered me in pure Dothraki, shocking and surprising me once again. How many secrets does this man, only a few years older than me, hide? - I was the one who tried to talk him out of marrying you. But the fool dismissed my words, saying he was following prophecy and the words of the Dosh Khaleen, and if I persisted, I would no longer be welcome in his Khalasar. In the end, the fool died a foolish death by the vengeance of a petty witch, and you survived with three dragons and a crowd of loyal Dothraki. That's what happens when you get involved with these silly games around the Iron Throne.

«The Iron Throne is mine by right. - I cut him off harshly, frowning at the fact that the boor had almost directly told me that I'd killed my beloved husband for dragons and a little khalasar.

«Which one? - He grinned back, asking a very stupid question that didn't need an answer. _{𝓷ℴ𝓋𝓅𝓊𝒷.𝒸𝓸𝓶}

«By blood right. My ancestors created the Iron Throne by conquering all Seven Kingdoms, and as their last heir, I have every right to take what is mine. - Still, I answered.

«Well said. - Clapping his hands together, Temper said in reply. - But tell me, my lady, why did Aegon the Conqueror create the Iron Throne, made up of hundreds of blades from his vanquished enemies, and not some other? Like gold, to show the wealth of his family, or a dragon throne, to signify that it is on dragons that his power rests. Why the Iron Throne? What was your great ancestor trying to tell his descendants?

«He wanted to show what our power is built on. - I answered briefly, a little surprised at the strange question, not quite sure what the Dornish was getting at. - Hundreds of molten swords of defeated enemies, reminding the rest of the Seven Kingdoms of our victory and power.

«Just like in the book. - The blond man grimaced a little when he heard my answer. - Only, my lady, somehow everyone forgets the second instruction the Conqueror left to his children. The throne is a very high, uncomfortable, and dangerous chair with spikes and blades that remain razor-sharp even after three centuries. By making his symbol of power like this, Aegon was telling his descendants that the Throne does not tolerate weak kings. And your family had plenty of them. Ainys the Weak, Maegor the Cruel, Aegon II the Usurper, Aegon III the Broken, Baelor the Idiot, Aegon IV the Unworthy, and finally your father, Aerys II the Mad. Of the three hundred years of your family's reign, two hundred were reigns of insane fanatics, tyrants, murderers of kin, lechers, and outright fools. Tell me, my lady, how will the other lords of Westeros feel about you when they find out that at sixteen you've already managed to become the wife of a Dothraki, drive your husband to his grave, and quarrel with the whole of Qarth, which controls one of the most important straits in the world, in just one year?

«They would have to recognize me. I have three dragons that will become as powerful as Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes in the future. As they did three hundred years ago, they will give me power over the Seven Kingdoms. - I replied calmly, though Lyon's words struck a chord with me. After the death of my husband and child, I feared nothing in my life more than to become like my father and lose my mind. To become like the man all the people of Westeros wanted to kill and who was and still is cursed.

«I agree with that. Your dragons are growing very fast indeed, and if nothing bad happens, they will be able to catch up to the Black Terror in size in the next few years. - The blond nodded toward one of the cabin windows, where Reigal's attentive face could be seen. - But then call things by their proper names, my lady. You will take the throne of the Seven Kingdoms not by blood, but by force. Like the four kings currently at war.

«Four? - I was surprised to hear the news. In Qarth, Ser Jorah learned that there was a war on the continent between Joffrey Watres, "son" of the Usurper, Robb Stark, son of the executed bastard Ned Stark, and the youngest of the Baratheon brothers, Renly. Who's the last one?

«Joffrey and Stannis Baratheon, claiming the Iron Throne, Robb Stark, who has sent emissaries of the crown to the bakehouse and declared himself King of the North and the Trident, and Balon Greyjoy, who has once again rebelled and declared independence for the Iron Islands. - Temper clarified, taking a sip from his cup. - The former has the entire Lannister and Kingsland army on his side, totaling forty thousand men. But they are now trapped in Harrenhal and Maidenpool by an army of Northerners. Twenty-five thousand Ruse Bolton and Edmar Tully are holding all the important crossings in the Riverlands and preventing them from moving to intercept Stannis Baratheon's army. He, after killing his younger brother by sorcery, has the entire army of the Stormlands and parts of the houses of Spaceland at his disposal, and is now marching towards King's Landing. And Balon Greyjoy has sent out all his ships to plunder the undefended west coast of Westeros. And while he's had some success with the Vastor, he's gotten a stiff rebuff in the North and West, having already lost dozens of ships. This news is two weeks old, so things may have changed, but I don't think they have. So, my lady, if you arrive in the Seven Kingdoms now, you will be awaited by the armies of the great lords, though battered, but hardened and angry as dogs. Who, unlike the Gardaners, Hoars, and Durrandons, are well aware of the danger of dragons and know how to fight them. And Dorne will not be spared, either - Prince Doran, after your older brother's antics against his younger sister Elia, disliked dragons as much as he disliked lions.

I was both pleased and saddened to hear such news. Glad that when I arrived in Westeros I would be met by the weakened and tired armies of the Lannisters and Baratheons, whose houses I had never thought to spare. But according to Temper's words, none of the Great Houses will support me, for they have long since chosen their side and are unwilling to fight for the true rulers of Westeros.

«But the other lords will support me, won't they? - I asked, remembering Willem's stories of the many lords and brave knights who had followed my brother during the Rebellion.

«All the men who were loyal to your house either died in Baratheon's Rebellion, defected to the victor's side, or went into exile on the Wall. As for the houses truly loyal to the Targaryens, those were only the houses of the King's Domain, Maiden's Pond, and Darry. But you can't count on them - the only survivors of that battle were the weak and cowards who ran straight to Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister to bow at the knees. Now, with Ser Barristan gone from King's Landing, I can't name a single man who will be truly loyal to you, with the exception of Prince Leawen Martell. After the war, he left House Martell and traveled to Essos, founding a mercenary unit called the Warriors of Memory. There, the few lucky few who managed to slip away from the hands of the royal assassins who remained loyal to your kind have gathered there. He will gladly join you, giving you nearly fifteen hundred well-trained warriors.

«It is not enough. - I sighed sadly, realizing how things really were. All of Master Illyrio's words were lies. No one was waiting for me in Westeros, and there I would be just another conqueror, not its rightful ruler. Of course, there was still the possibility that Temper was lying to me, but Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah, standing next to me, nodded silently at my questioning glances as I spoke, confirming that most of what he said was true. - I need more men to take my father's throne.

«Then you have only two ways to go. - Temper smiled, placing his empty glass on the table, which was immediately refilled by a servant. - The first is to Astapor. Impeccable, trained there, perfect warriors, ready to serve their masters to the death. The only drawback is that they are trained for war in Giskar, and for them to be effective in Westeros, you'll have to spend a lot of money to outfit and retrain them. The second is to Volon Therys. That's where the Golden Swords are staying now. Founded by Eigor Rivers, they have ten thousand hardened warriors and twenty-five war elephants. They'll gladly follow you if you promise them land in Westeros, but first you'll have to buy them back from the man who caused them to break their treaty with the World and go to Volon Theris. In both cases, you need gold to pay for the soldiers, which you simply don't have.

«But you do. - I said, causing Temper to look at me in surprise. This idea came to me suddenly, but if it works out, it will be one of the most successful meetings of my life. - Although I don't know much about the houses of the Seven Kingdoms, even I know of the incredible wealth and power of House Tempera, only slightly short of the great ones. - I'm certainly being a bit flattering here, but if my idea succeeds, it will be worth it. - And I have no doubt there'll be enough gold in the holds of your ships to hire both and there'll be plenty left over.

- Don't overestimate my abilities, my lady. - Sitting up straight and completely serious, Temper replied. - It would cost eight thousand gold dragons to hire the entire Golden Swords for one month. The same amount will be spent on providing for them, feeding and foraging. Unsullied are bought permanently and cost twenty gold marks. Or fifteen gold dragons. To go to war against the Seven Kingdoms you would need at least nine thousand Unsullied. Or a hundred and forty thousand gold dragons. That's a lot of money, My Lady. Give me one good reason why I should give it to you.

«When I take the throne, your family will still be alive. - I replied with all the grandeur I could muster.

«Without an army, you cannot conquer Westeros. So my family will be safe, too. - It didn't work on Tempera, but who says there's only one reason?

«My gratitude. - I said, smiling my best smile. - When I ascend the throne House Tempera will be showered with favors and lands. And if House Martell does decide to oppose me, then your house, Lyon, may well become a grand lord and repeat the Tyrells' success.

There was a tense silence, the only sound in which was the creaking of wood from the light rocking and the dragons climbing on the stern. All the while, Temper stared at me, as if searching for something to help him make a decision. I, realizing that I had nothing to lose from this conversation, sat quietly on the cushions and sipped the drink poured by the helpful servant.

"I'll have to ask for a keg or two," I thought, savoring the wine. - "I hope they don't refuse me."

«Lothar, bring me a quill, paper and wax. - Temper finally said, breaking the silence, which made even the always calm Mormont start to fidget and put his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging on his belt. For the next five minutes he wrote something on the sheet he had brought, then sprinkled sand to remove excess ink and sealed it with a seal of yellow wax.

«I will give you gold. With it, you can hire an army and go to the Seven Kingdoms. - After he said that, I had a hard time keeping a calm expression on my face. Judging by the red-eyed man's smile, the men behind me did not succeed. - But I will have two conditions. First, you and your men won't tell anyone where you got the money from. After all, I am a merchant, and merchants must remain neutral. Do you agree?

«Good. - I nodded, accepting the condition.

«Second, you will go to Astapor to buy an army. - Seeing my eyebrow raised in mute question, Temper continued. - As I said, the Gold Squad are mercenaries. They need to be paid constantly, so the money you've been given will only last you ten months. The Unsullied are more preferable. At least they don't leave behind a scorched wasteland and a sea of tortured and raped corpses like the mercenaries and Dothraki.

«I agree with that, too. - The Dornish's arguments sounded sound, though I sensed he was understating something.

«Excellent. - Temper smiled, standing up and holding out the newly sealed scroll to me. - My sister is now in Slave Trader's Bay. Take this letter to any of our factories there. She will help you contact Prince Lieven and arrange a meeting.

«Very well. - I agreed, rising to my feet and wondering inwardly if I could read the letter without breaking the seal. - It's a pleasure doing business with you, Lyon.

«You too, my lady. - The blond grinned, stepping closer and kissing my hand courteously. How hard it was for me to keep my face straight, even I don't know. - Or rather, the queen.

Two hours later, when three monstrous chests full of gold bars and two begging kegs of peach wine had been loaded aboard the Ballerion, I was watching the ships sail away from Qarth and thinking about what had happened today.

Why had Temper agreed?

Why didn't he capture and deliver him to Westeros for a bounty?

What was his family's attitude? As I'd learned, his father had been the main reason for Rhaegar's defeat at the Trident, and at the same time he, along with Ser Barristan, had saved my father during the Twilight's Rebellion. It didn't add up.

I knew too little about the Seven Kingdoms and the houses that lived there. There was only one way out.

«Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan. - I addressed the knights still standing around me.

«Yes, Your Majesty.

«Khaleesi.

«Tell me everything you know about the Seven Kingdoms. About the Great Houses, their bannermen, their kingdoms, their orders, their history, and so forth. And most importantly, tell me all about House Temper. After today, I'm going to have to reckon with them whether I want to or not.

***

«Sir, are you sure? Your father wouldn't approve.

«That's all right. That money was my personal savings anyway. It won't affect my father's plans. But we can use a safety net in these troubled times.

«Thank you for your explanation, sir.

«Another matter. Were you able to recruit anyone in her entourage?

«Yes. The captain of that big ship was very cooperative at the mention of his children and wife. He's all ours.

«Well done, Lothar. As soon as we get back to Osgiliath, you'll be promoted to gold commander. We can't let Amira relax and work too hard.

- Thank you, sir. May the blessings of the Old Gods be upon you.

«You too. We're gonna need it where we're going.

***

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