Chapter 16
Meereen was a city of many religions, the city had temples of nearly every religion ranging from the Seven, the goat worship of Qohor, the Red God of Volantis and their own temple which held priestesses commonly referred to as Graces.
Daemon Targaryen found himself infront of a Red Temple, this one much smaller and less impressive than the Red Temple of Volantis, and as he stood infront of it, he felt hesitant to walk in, believing that he may not like the answer that he had come to seek.
Yet, as he was about to step in, a voice from behind cut in.
"You seem hesitant to enter the temple," and he looked back and found a priestess standing there, clad in an all too familiar red robe with eyes that glistened with a red hue.
"The Red God is grac..."
"I am afraid I am not here to seek your God's gracity," he replied curtly, yet his tone or his words did little to deter the red woman who walked towards him and began to look at him.
"Then tell me what you seek, Liberator?" she questioned, and he was surprised by that word.
He hesitated for a moment before removing his blade from its sheath. The red woman did not even flinch as he put it forward, though he did not miss how her eyes widened as she saw the red glistening ruby on the hilt.
"Where did you get that?" she questioned, and he did not answer.
"I took it as retribution," he answered, and the red woman slowly reached for the ruby.
"I wish to know how to break a curse cast by the one who once wore this around her neck," he questioned, and she touched the ruby yet quickly retracted her hand.
"Such power..." she gasped out as she looked up at him, though his own gaze no longer lingered on the red woman but was focused on the men of the city guard that had begun sprouting all around him.
They were armed, and his grip over his blade tightened as he pulled the red woman behind her and raised his blade as he looked all around.
"If you are here to kill me, then I can assure you would need more men..." he said as he looked the guard captain in the eye.
"...a lot more men," he answered as he placed both his hands on the blade's hilt.
The captain of the guards smirked as he stepped forward. Daemon knew that the man belonged to the richest family in Meereen, and though they were called the city guards, they were little more than henchmen of the City's ruling families.
"I am afraid that day is not today. I am only here to escort you today. The Masters wish to speak to you," he said, though the guards' hostility told him that this was neither a request nor a wish.
"And what if I do not wish to see the masters?" he asked, and the man's smirk mocked him as he replied.
"That would not be a pretty picture," he replied, and Daemon scoffed.
"I told you, you do not have enough men to harm me," Daemon replied. The man's eyes narrowed as he bared his teeth and answered.
"Who said anything about harming you?"
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JON ARRYN
Jon Arryn considered himself a good judge of character, and he was not shy in admitting that he had underestimated the Prince Daemon Targaryen was neither his father nor his brother. He was much more shrewd and politically astute than either of them.
He also was a good judge of character.
"What were you thinking, agreeing to the duel like that?" Eddard raged at Robert, who sat triumphantly in a chair, sipping wine from a goblet as if he had already won the war.
"What was there to think? I will smash in his chest like I did to his brother and end the war. And then this whole farce would be over," Robert replied, sure of his victory, although he knew that there were few fighters in the realm who could face Rober on even footing, for his martial prowess and fighting sense had no equal.
Robert, with his Warhammer, was deadly, yet Daemon Targaryen would know that as well, yet he still offered a duel as a means to end the war, and that perturbed him.
"Eddard is right. You rushed into the decision without consulting us, without even listening to the Prince's full proposal," Jon chided the Baratheon lad, who shrugged.
"Our numbers are equal and his ships encircle our ports, he has my brothers. If we were to face him in battle, his naval forces would cause much damage to our ports, beggaring our cities, let alone even if we were to defeat his armies, he may as well retreat and hide away on Dragonstone and regroup once more," he remarked once more showing that despite his appearance and behavior Robert had a sharp mind underneath, even though he presented himself as a simpleton, the Baratheons had ruled over the Storm lands for three centuries, a hard task given the geography of the lands.
"You may be right, but you missed the Prince's demands at the end. He proclaimed a claim for our lands if you were to lose, and that means..."
"He wishes to redraw the borders," Eddard caught on, and Jon nodded as he rubbed his temple.
"The Crownlands border both Stormlands and Riverlands, and though you can speak for Stormlands, Lord Tully would not take it lightly that you wagered his lands in a duel like this," he spoke, worrying about the status of the alliance.
"Let Houster Tully wag his tongue. I have not forgotten the prince the old coot demanded for his support. Tell him that he may go and scurry away at that damned dragon spawn's feet if he so wishes. See if he is offered any mercy," Robert thundered. Though Houster Tully's support had come at a great cost, with both him and Eddard having to wed one of his daughters, there was little chance that the old Lord of the Trident would grumble much for Catelyn Stark carried in her womb the heir to the North, cementing their alliance no matter what the man may say.
"And how dare you doubt me. I will not lose to that cretin, he shall die at my hands, and we shall put all this wretched business behind us," Robert roared as he drained his cups and made for the exit.
"I will be in the yard, face me and see for yourself how I will kill that damned cretin for the lies he spouts!" Robert said to Eddard as he left the tent,
"He is confident," Eddard remarked tiredly as he plopped down in a chair, and Jon nodded.
"He has reason to be, the number of people who can stand face to face with Robert in the whole realm can be counted on a single hand, and until about three years ago, Prince Daemon was not on that list," Jon answered.
"But that was three years ago, we do not know how good of a fighter he is today," Eddard vocalised his own fears.
"I fear the same for the proposal came from the Prince. He must be aware of Robert's renown and prowess; he would not have made the offer if he had not been certain of his victory," Jon spoke tiredly.
And there was silence as the prospect of losing the war felt so close, so near.
"Can we not try and summon a Grand Council?" Eddard questioned, and he shook his head.
"A Grand Council would need at least five great lords to have any semblance of legitimacy, and Daemon has the support of three Lord Paramounts. A council is impossible to arrange and call in this scenario," he replied as Eddard sighed.
"Then what are we to do?" Eddard questioned, and Jon looked him in the eye as he answered.
"There is little that we can do now except help Robert prepare for the fight, for all our fates rest on his shoulders now."
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DAEMON TARGARYEN
Daemon was quite satisfied with the proceedings of the parlay, ignoring and riling up the Baratheon Lord, which had been part of his plan and had gone as he had expected. Robert Baratheon had agreed to his terms, and now the war was as good as won.
The last moon had been quite tiresome for him as he tried to maneuver his house out of the hell hole it had found itself in due to the actions of his father and brother.
"Your grace, don't you think that your terms to the rebelling lords were too generous," began Arthur as they sat down in their tent, as the official documentation for the duel and its consequences was prepared.
Daemon glanced towards the Kingsguard, who continued.
"We have the upper hand, and if we reveal the contents of Lyanna Stark's letters, the whole rebel alliance will be blown apart and lose popular support," Arthur was right in his assessment, though he did not know of what his plans were for the rebel lands were after the war.
Daemon planned to correct one of the Conqueror's biggest mistakes through this war. While the Crown had ample land and was based in a highly populated city, it lacked any major fortress to house its army.
And thankfully, there was already a perfect castle for that. Harrenhall, it was a cursed fief and was now heirless as the last of the male Whents had died on the Trident, and now only two remained, and one was the Kingsgaurd, Ser Oswell, and the Lady Whent, who was well past her childbearing years.
"Maybe they were, but you must understand that the rebelling lands have suffered quite a lot over the course of the war unlike the Houses which stand by our side. Stormlands have always been poor, and the North will not survive if it loses another five thousand or so men going forward, and the Vale has its mountain clans which have reared up and are now causing havoc as the Valemen fight here," he elaborated.
"When I win, I wish to preserve some semblance of a balance between the Great Houses. Otherwise, House Lannister, House Tyrell, and House Martell will become too powerful, which is quite dangerous given that the Crown's powers are quite depleted," he elaborated, and Arthur nodded.
The North had always been somewhat obscterised from the rest of the kingdoms because of their religion and if the truth came out it would only increase the division which would be a fatal mistake given what eh knew of the dangers that lurked beyond the Wall.
"This will also help the King show his merciful nature," Ser Gerold said, though he hesitated with his next words.
"This shall be extremely helpful given the actions of your predecessor, your grace," Daemon agreed. He had already shown a glimpse of his martial prowess when he defeated the Lannister vanguard, and now he would prove it once again when he defeated Robert Baratheon in their duel.
"Moreover, I am to be King of the Seven Kingdoms. If my actions cause havoc in one of these Kingdoms, it would reflect poorly on me. And the terms are not as generous as you think. That shall be cleared up soon," he added cryptically as Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"Your grace, you could have named us champions. Why face Baratheon yourself?" Arthur asked slowly.
"I would gladly fight Baratheon a hundred times for you," he added, and Daemon's eyes narrowed.
"It seems that you doubt my prowess, Arthur," Daemon said in a jolly tone, not offended by the man's concern.
"Your grace, Robert Baratheon, usurper he may be, is a great fighter. He felled Prince Rhaegar on the Trident and has won many battles against famous knights," added Ser Gerold from the side.
"And you believe he may defeat me as he did my brother," he said, and their silence was answer enough.
"Well then, I believe a demonstration is in order," he began as he stood up and reached for his sword.
"It has been quite some time since I have sparred with someone as good as you," he said as he left the tent, as they made their way toward the training yard.
"My lord, when do you plan to schedule the duel," Ser Gerold questioned as they reached the clearing.
"Perhaps in a week," he replied after some thought.
"Robert Baratheon is still recovering from the injuries he suffered at the Trident. I wouldn't want the lords of the rebellion to make a fuss about how the man was not at his best. I will face Baratheon at his best, and I will put an end to this whole sordid affair," he said as he took his position. After a glance between them, Arthur stepped forward.
Seeing this, Daemon put down his blade. Arthur frowned and turned towards Ser Gerold.
"Why are you standing there?" he asked as the man looked quizzically at him.
"Your grace...." he was speechless as Daemon pointed towards the position beside Arthur with his sword.
"Join him," he ordered, but the man hesitated before he spoke up.
"Your grace, Arthus is the best fighter in the realm, fighting both of us together would be near im...."
"Just join him, Ser Gerold, and you shall know why I am the best person to face Baratheon," he said, and the man nodded as he stepped up beside Arthur Dayne and began to circle him.
"As you wish, your grace," and with that, Daemon took a deep breath as he held the hilt with both of his hands. A warmth rose up through his arms and spread all over his body as he opened his eyes and felt the whole world slow.
Later, the two Kingsaurds would be sprawled on the ground, huffing and heaving as they looked at their King with nothing but awe in their eyes. Daemon Targaryen stood tall, cutting an imposing figure as two swords lay shattered beside him.
"I believe that shall be answer enough for you."
And on the same night, Queen Rhaella Targaryen would begin her labors, and the news of the duel between Robert Baratheon and Daemon Targaryen to end the war would spread all over the continent and beyond.
0000
The news of the duel to decide the fate of the rebellion and the Crown would spread all around the realm, with missives being sent to every castle so that a respectable number of lords could come to observe the duel and see this historic battle for themselves.
Such a missive would also reach the lush gardens of Highgarden, the ancestral seat of House Tyrell. Olenna Tyrell would read the missive. The Queen of Thorns was an apolitical animal and would quickly sense that there was an underlying secret to this whole affair.
Yet the other implication, the more apparent one, was not lost to her either as she sat with one of her daughters, married into the House Fossoway, a shame for she was a comely girl and would have been well laced to become the next Queen had she been unwed.
"It seems our King is quite a political force," she praised the young dragon as she put down the missive.
"Why do you say that? Mother?" Her daughter, who had a bloated belly and was carrying a Fossoway child, questioned, for while she was comely, she was not the brightest of her children.
"Because he has chosen to preserve the strength of his enemies, and of course, I expect him to gut them and their lands after settling the whole affair, yet still, he has shown himself benevolent and chivalrous while keeping a check on the power of Houses who allied themselves to his cause," she elaborated and at least she was astute enough to see the point once it had been presented to her, unlike her oaf of a son.
"Doesn't he fear that the Houses may turn to the side of the Rebellion?" she questioned, and the question was astute enough.
"Even if it were a possibility, I do not believe it would be so easy. There is more to this missive than we realize. I have an inkling that the Stark girl might be at the center of it all," she remarked, for she had heard from one of her men in the capital that a special entourage had come to the capital, one being escorted by the three missing Kingsgaurd, a Kingsguard which were last seen with Prince Rhaegar when he fled away from the accursed castle of Harrenhall.
"What if the King loses? After all, don't men call Robert Baratheon a demon? I have heard that he killed Prince Rhaegar on the trident with a single blow of his Warhammer?"
"I do not think so. Our King held all the initiative in the war, with the Rebellion forces trapped from two sides, and this whole settlement seemed to be of his making. And from what I have seen and heard of the man, he is not prone to making unnecessary gambles."
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