Edric, Robb and Sam had joined Jon on the bridge. They were watching the Ironborn ship. A small boat had been lowered into the water with three people on board. They had brought the white flag along. Jon used the spyglass he had borrowed from the chief mate.
"It is Yara Greyjoy!" He exclaimed.
"The Ironborn you saved from the pirates?" Robb asked. "What would she want with us?"
"Isn't it obvious," Sam addressed Robb. "The enemy of your enemy is your friend. Jon has successfully attacked Euron Greyjoy. That makes him her natural ally. She will be here to seek his aid. The fact that she survived means she is on the run."
"The enemy of the enemy is your friend? What a strange phrase." Robb repeated Sam's words with a frown on his face.
"I read it in a very old book. It makes sense if you think on it." Sam replied a sheepish smile on his face.
"Let us join the others on deck. Even Ser Gerold will agree that Yara Greyjoy and two lackeys pose no real threat to me." Jon was already making his way down.
"My Lady," Jon greeted her as took her hand to help her on board.
She accepted his hand with a tense nod of her head.
"Your weapons please?" Ser Gerold would not take any risks.
"I do not carry any." Yara's answer was abrupt. Then she turned around and ordered the two men to row back to her ship. "Come and get me when you receive my signal," she ordered them and then faced Jon and his entourage. "See, I come alone and in peace. I trust you will offer me guest rights and not chain me, my Lord?" She addressed her question to Jon, not Ser Gerold.
"Of course, this way please." He showed her to the cabin where they took their meals.
Jon watched her partake of some bread and salt and ate a small piece as well. He saw her relax before his eyes.
He signalled Davos and Ser Gerold to take a seat at the small table. A significant look at Sam resulted in his friend ushering everybody out. They went willingly confident they would get a full briefing afterwards.
Robb, however, stayed behind. "I wish to represent the Warden of the North in this negotiation."
His commanding tone was answered by a small smile from Jon. "Pull up a chair then." At Yara Greyjoy's questioning look he added for her sake. "My Lady, may I present to you Lord Robb of House Stark, son of Eddard Stark, heir to Winterfell and future Warden of the North. I trust you still remember Davos of House Seaworth and Ser Gerold?"
Yara nodded, her gaze lingering on Robb. So this was the foster brother Theon had written about all these years. At first, her brother's letters had described a disgustingly endearingly relationship with the heir but lately not so much anymore. Several moons ago, he had written to her that the Starks had gotten complacent and he was finally able to sneak messages to her when he stayed in Wintertown. Finally, she had received unbiased accounts that weren't read by the Starks before he was allowed to send them to his family. He stressed that he hated the Starks and that they would pay for his captivity sometime in the future. It appeared her brother had stayed an Ironborn in exile. Yara made an effort to refocus on the situation at hand and continued to stare at Lord Celtigar. She guessed he was the dragon rider if the stories were to be believed. At least that way she could explain why a young boy was in charge of this strange mix of characters.
Jon answered her stare with one of his own. He decided not to waste any more time and opened the talks. In a determined voice, he fired his first question at her. "How did you know where to find us?"
"Everyone who has ears heard Euron Greyjoy's frustrated outburst when he returned to Pyke with less than half of his men."
"So we know for a fact he survived the attack." Ser Gerold stated the obvious. "We assume your father was deposed when Euron Greyjoy first landed on Pyke?"
"Uncle Euron killed him. The bastard didn't even have the courtesy to offer him an honourable death. I was not at Pyke at the time so I only heard of it from Ironborn at Pyke still loyal to me. I am not entirely sure whether I got a faithful report or an exaggerated account of their final confrontation. They all describe how Euron Greyjoy acted like a madman and how with a single nonchalant gesture he pushed my father of the bridge separating the two towers of Pyke, all the while laughing like a madman. They told me my father's head got crushed against the foundations of his home before disappearing beneath the turbulent waters. His body was never found." Yara's voice betrayed no emotions. She also waved away any attempts at sympathetic remarks that Jon and Davos started to make. Without further ado, she got back to the business at hand.
"Ever since his defeat at your hands, my dearest uncle makes sure to monitor your movements. I still have loyal men living on Pyke. One of the reasons I came here was to warn you."
"Your warning has no value. We already know we made an enemy who is not honourable and will ambush his prey after sundown. Did you not hear about that from your informants as well?" Jon undermined her negotiating position.
"We could help each other." She ventured neither admitting nor denying that she knew of the ambush.
"How convenient for you," Davos intervened. "And what could you possibly offer us? If you have reliable spies, then you know we defeated his superior force and suffered not a single casualty on our side."
"You can't be everywhere at once. I could tell you where he plans to hit next," she insisted. "Or perhaps what countermeasures he is devising."
"And lead us into a trap?" Ser Gerold decided to voice his doubts.
"Why would I do that? Actually, how would I do that?" She focused on Jon once more. "I figured out how you set that pirate ship on fire from afar."
"Then you know we do not really need any help." Davos objected trying to divert her attention from Jon's role during the attack.
Jon studied her. "Is there some way you could prove your claim that you are on our side?" He realised she was right about not being able to be everywhere at once with his dragons. However, admitting that would not only undermine Davos but also weaken their position in this negotiation.
"You control my brother's fate and you know I want him by my side." Yara tried.
"Not good enough" Jon countered and remembered uneasily that they didn't know where Theon was at the moment. For all he knew, the Kraken was halfway to Pyke running straight into his uncle's arms. Yara wouldn't be pleased to hear her brother could well be about to be slaughtered by Euron Greyjoy. He threw a warning look at Robb. He hoped Robb would not mention that Theon had escaped.
"King Robert controls Theon Greyjoy's fate." Robb spoke up for the first time. "The Starks are only obeying royal orders."
"As if a friend of a dragon is a true friend of Robert Baratheon." Yara sneered. She paused to consider her options. "I could," she faltered then resumed, "I could offer myself up as a hostage."
Jon shook his head. "Would your men still be loyal to you if you did that? Could we still trust the intelligence they would bring you? As far as I know, the ways of your people, if they do not believe you strong enough to lead them, they will look for someone else to follow. In spite of your uncle's recent setback, he is probably the only other candidate they can turn to if you are our captive. You are of no value to us then."
"You forget my brother Theon. The Ironborn could rally behind him. He would vouch for me."
"Now you are grasping at straws. Your brother is not a free man and he has not lived on Pyke for many years. Will they still see him as a true Ironborn?" Jon's hopes of forging a fruitful alliance were dwindling. "Aside from endangering our relationship with the royal family by releasing him, the chances of Theon Greyjoy and me agreeing on anything are rather slim."
Ser Gerold intervened. "We are talking in circles here. I have yet to hear a single reason why we should become allies."
"Is there any useful information on Euron Greyjoy you can give us right now? Anything that is substantial enough to prove you can be trusted?" Davos calm tone was meant to counteract the downwards spiral the conversation was making.
"You mean spill it all without any promises on your end?" It appeared Yara was getting desperate.
"What do you really stand to lose? We already helped you by weakening Euron Greyjoy's position. Technically you owe us this." Jon relished having the stronger negotiating position.
"He is looking at the South right now. He is searching for rich lands that are not so heavily defended." She admitted with apparent reluctance. "I heard him speak of the Reach and Oldtown."
"I thought you came to warn us. Which is it? Will he sail south or will he come for us?" Ser Gerold didn't really see the point in continuing this interrogation.
"Even if he takes part of his fleet south now, he has a vendetta against you, Lord Celtigar. He will keep tracking your movements and strike when he believes he has found a weak spot. But I admit he will be more careful and you probably have bought yourself some time before he tries anything again."
Jon looked at his camp a question in his eyes. Davos shrugged his shoulders but cleared his voice and spoke up. "My Lady, will you step outside for a bit? We want to discuss this amongst ourselves. We won't take long I assure you."
Jon couldn't stop himself from taunting her and immediately added to Davos' request. "Oh, do be careful not to step on my direwolf who is guarding the door from the outside. I believe he doesn't like Krakens all that much."
If Jon expected Yara Greyjoy to be upset by this dismissal and his jibe, he could not have been more mistaken. Yara was looking visibly relieved and did not hesitate to leave the cabin.
A bit later, Jon joined her on deck and called Ghost to him. He escorted her to the port side. Together they watched the crew on the deck of her ship attend to their duties. "You seem to run a tight ship." Jon complimented her.
Yara shifted her position a little keeping a wary eye on the big wolf that hadn't left her side and was even now worming himself between the two of them.
"Ghost," Jon's commanding tone had an immediate effect. The direwolf retreated and curled himself in a peaceful position at Jon's feet. Jon patted his head affectionately.
Yara tried to keep her composure at this blatant exhibition of power by the young Lord. She just threw a questioning look at him.
Jon decided to comply. "We propose to keep in contact as tentative allies. If your help proves substantial we will consider supporting you to take back control of the Iron Islands. No formal promise yet, just a declaration of intent, one with great potential on your side if you deliver on your promise. You can signal your ship now to pick you up." His tone clearly indicated that negotiations were over. This was a take it or leave it deal.
"I'll take it." Again there was no hesitation on her part.
Jon realised coming to them had been a desperate move on her part, some sort of last option with bad odds. He looked thoughtful when she asked. "How do you propose we keep in contact, Lord Celtigar?"
He noticed she had taken out a small mirror and used the reflection of the sunlight to signal her crew. Jon waited patiently until she had finished. He made a mental note of this useful trick. "While we wait we can agree on some code words to disguise the true meaning of our messages. If your spies on Pyke are as reliable as you claim they are, they can tell you where to send them. If one of your messages requires an answer from our side, just use the code to tell us where to send it."
"You will not tell me what your plans are? I cannot fathom what you intend to achieve sailing this far north with two large fire breathing dragons?" Yara was curious. If only she could control those fearsome animals the way he seemingly could, she would have conquered half of Westeros by now.
"All in good time. Let us first wait and see how this alliance will evolve." Jon kept his face neutral.
When Yara was safely on board of her own ship, Jon sought out Sam and Davos. He ordered for a message to be prepared to Lord Tyrell. It contained the warning of a possible imminent Ironborn attack on the Reach. The message further detailed that they counted on Lord Tyrell as the Lord Paramount of the Reach to alert Old Town, the Arbor, the Shield Isles and any other likely target along the coast and the Mander River. Jon urged Sam to formulate a message to his father, Lord Tarly as well. Davos could sign it, but his family needed to be warned.
***
Slowly the little harbour of Sea Dragon Point came into view. This time it was Sandor Clegane who was standing next to Jon at the bow watching the ship approach the shore. "What are we going to do in this godsforsaken place? I can almost smell that ice wall from here." he muttered wringing his cold hands together."
'Not a single f-word', Jon didn't voice that thought but was amused. 'Perhaps years of talking with polite company would slowly change his speech patterns?' A loud curse interrupted his musings. 'Or perhaps not.' He turned to Sandor. "Whatever is the matter, Sandor?"
"I just bumped my knee against this fucking crate trying to regain my balance after that stupid shift in direction." He looked at Jon and narrowed his eyes. "You didn't answer my question boy. What stupid shit are we doing in this cold and godsforsaken place?"
"I hope to receive some messages. Our allies knew this was the next point they could reach us."
"Okay, so don't tell me, I can live with that but do not lie to me boy."
"I'm not." Jon tried.
"But you're not telling either." Sandor didn't relent.
"Sandor," Jon started.
Sandor held up his hand. "In future, just say straight to my ugly face you won't or can't tell anything at the first time of asking. Then I can respect you, boy. You know full well I resent cunts that talk but say nothing."
Jon smiled. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I do expect some messages though."
"Worried about your uncle, boy?" Sandor tried a different tactic.
Jon rolled his eyes at the third mention of the word boy in this short conversation but then his face darkened. "Yeah, it is the longest I have gone without a sign of life from him. I'm very worried."
"It will all be set to rights. That's why we're fucking here anyway." Sandor stated matter of fact enjoying the look of shock on Jon's face. "Don't worry, I won't tell if you won't." He grinned to reassure Jon and sauntered off when he saw Robb approach, Greywind at his heels.
Jon and Robb had spent more than two moons together. Their bond had been tested but Jon knew with absolute certainty that Robb had accepted his new reality and was one hundred per cent on board now. He suspected Robb would have a stern talk with his father though.
He had watched how Robb had made good use of this journey. After seeing Jon interrogate the garrison commander and assess the threats during their first stop at the Stony Shore, his cousin had started to do the same at all the other settlements they had visited next. He now had a full report prepared for his father and had told Jon he was satisfied to know more about the situation in the Kingdom he was destined to rule one day.
Travelling with Jon had made Robb realise that being heir to the North meant taking responsibility and not just giving some random orders from far away. He had decided he would ask his father to let him take an active part in seeing to the welfare of the people of the North.
"Hi," Robb said when he reached Jon. "Why are you hiding out here?"
"I'm standing in plain view, Robb. I particularly enjoy watching a ship enter the port and anticipate the joy I will feel when my feet can touch dry land once more."
"Not really a sailor?"
"Nope, but I realise it can be a convenient means of travelling. I fear you've come to tell me you'll be leaving us soon?" Jon looked at the serious face of his cousin.
"Only if I can't convince you to travel to Winterfell with me." Robb attempted one last time.
"I can't Robb, not yet, I've told you my reasons."
"Yeah, a guy can try though. I hate that we need to part. I hate it even more that I do not know when we will see each other again. "
"I have a feeling it won't be long before that happens, Robb." He sighed and changed the subject. "I worry about the content of the messages that await us. I know it is unrealistic to presume Varys has been able to deflect every rumour of dragons flying around Westeros. I'm anxious to know which version of the story is circulating over there. A lot of my plans will depend on that."
Robb studied him. "It may still be too early to evaluate whether the rumours have done some damage." His jaw shifted slightly. "I know the content of at least one message already." He mimicked his mother's tone. "Robb please hurry home, love mom."
"Let's pray there is one from Uncle Benjen." Jon stared in the distance, his eyes not really taking anything in. Both boys sighed simultaneously.
***
Plenty of messages had indeed arrived, none from Uncle Benjen, but one from Uncle Aemon. Plenty of scrolls from their allies and as expected a message marked urgent from Winterfell addressed to Robb.
The message from the Wall was the first one Jon opened. It contained no new information about Uncle Benjen. His mission north of the Wall was taking longer than expected Maester Aemon wrote. Both boys were disheartened. The rest of the letter contained a request to search for something called obsidian but Jon put it aside for now and was about to ask Robb to read the urgent message from Winterfell at once when he noticed his cousin had already opened the message from his father.
Robb summarised the content aloud to Jon as he read. As expected he was called home immediately. The King had been spotted crossing the border into the North. The messages detailed the route the royal caravan was taking. Uncle Ned wrote he had taken precautions to lead them past Moat Cailin with a guide and had given instructions to the castellan to keep the smallfolk hidden while the caravan passed. The guide would take the abandoned old road where some ruins could still be seen so as not to raise too many questions. The improvements at Winterfell alone would be more than enough to make the Lannisters suspicious.
Robb put the letter down and described the improvements his father had made at Winterfell after Jon's visit when he was twelve. "A second fortified wall has been built that encompasses a large area around the original one that still serves as a second layer of protection to the castle. The new fortifications contain an impressive gatehouse flanked by two slightly protruding watchtowers built at just the right angle to provide additional protection. The new inner courtyard created between the new and the original wall houses several workshops and large stables. To the south, the gap between the two walls widens significantly to make room for extensive glasshouses."
He resumed his perusing of his father's letter. "He also writes about Arya's safe return. Oh, she is taking official fighting lessons with Lady Brienne of Tarth now. I also must thank you on father's behalf for the beautiful sword you have given Arya. There should be a small thank you note from her addressed to you personally included in here." Rob rolled out the entire scroll and a small piece fell from it. "That must be it." He handed it to Jon who tucked it away to read it later. He gestured Robb to continue.
Father mentions that Loras Tyrell is making himself useful and he believes him to be an upstanding young man. He suspects Sansa to have a little crush on him but nothing serious. The boy ignores her so he doesn't worry." Robb falters. "Oh I should have kept that part to myself." A repentant smile flashed over his face before he frowned. "Do not let on you are aware of this."
"Listen to this shocking titbit." Robb's voice betrayed his surprise. "The black sheep Theon has returned to Winterfell of his own volition. He claims he had just left on a short adventure with friends and didn't realise his absence would cause such a stir. Father doesn't know what to make of that but keeps a guard on him at all times now. He is relieved this situation has been resolved before King Robert's arrival."
Robb read on in silence for a bit. Then he put the letter down. "The rest are just some insignificant internal family matters except for one thing. It appears Domeric Bolton, Roose Bolton's eldest son and heir has lodged a formal complaint against his bastard half-brother Ramsay Snow. Apparently this Ramsay Snow has committed hideous crimes against the smallfolk. Domeric Bolton begs my father to deal with this because Roose Bolton doesn't consider it serious enough and just laughs stating the boy is going through a phase. Domeric Bolton petitions the Warden of the North to use his authority over his father. Lord Stark should order his bannerman to protect the wellbeing of the smallfolk living in and around the Dreadfort."
"Does your father write how he intends to deal with this matter?" Jon was appalled by what he had just heard.
"My father explains his options are limited because he cannot travel to the Dreadfort. He is stuck at Winterfell due to the imminent royal visit. He has written a stern letter to Lord Roose Bolton. He will monitor the situation and if necessary will ask the Greatjon or Lord Karstark to pay Roose Bolton a visit. Under no circumstance am I allowed to travel there. My protection detail is too small and the Boltons could well keep me hostage until he allows the betrothal of Sansa to his heir. He stresses once more he needs me at Winterfell and wants me to arrive as soon as possible."
Robb rolled up the scroll and tucked it away. "I guess that means I will arrange for my journey home. I'll alert my houseguard so they can pack their things and see to it that our horses are among the first to disembark." He looked at Jon with a reluctant expression. "And all of this because of a Usurper coming north. I wished you could come along and take the Baratheon King hostage at Winterfell."
"I know," Robb relented when he saw Jon's exasperated expression. "I do know you told me several times why this is not a good idea. A man can dream can't he? Can I ask Edric to accompany me to Winterfell, and perhaps Gendry and Sam also?"
Jon looked thoughtful. His first reaction was to deny Robb's request instantly but was he allowed to dictate all their lives just like that? "You could ask Edric what he prefers to do, I reckon." He hesitated. "Sam and Gendry on the other hand, I'd rather you didn't approach them. I need them with me for one and you would put them in an awkward position. Sam is probably going to leave for Oldtown soon anyway. I am sorry Robb."
"I understand Jon. It was just an idea. I finally found company my own age I can stand to be around. You do realise I have to go back and live with Theon at Winterfell once more?"
"You have plenty of siblings, Robb. If we play the pity game, I win. Do not forget Loras is at Winterfell too, probably counting the days until you show up. You know your siblings enjoy his company at Winterfell. Hells, we only knew him for a bit over a sennight before we had to part ways in the Riverlands but that was long enough to see he could fit right into our little circle.
"Well, if I may call dibs on Edric and Loras, you can have Sam and Gendry." He joked. At Jon's serious expression he stopped his teasing. "Jon, I didn't mean it that way. I'll just issue an open invitation to Winterfell to Edric whenever he feels like it, nothing more and nothing less."
A tentative smile ghosted over Jon's face. "Now if you will excuse me, I really need to scan the other messages from our allies and have a quick talk with Davos. If there is anything of interest in them I will tell you later when I give you the letters I have prepared for Arya and Uncle Ned. I am certain I will need to add a few things to Uncle Ned's letter so let me attend to that first. That way I can make sure I'm finished with the most urgent things long before you are set to leave. I also have to fetch the small gifts I prepared for your family. I wouldn't want Sansa, Bran or Rickon to think I only like you and Arya."He saw Robb's quizzical look and with a teasing smile on his face he continued. "Don't worry, we'll make time to say a proper goodbye and share at least one more meal and then you can have your present. No need to be jealous, I have one for you as well."
Robb nudged his shoulder playfully and Jon patted his cousin's back a few times in return. Both boys hurried to finish their tasks so they could still spend some time together later.
One last time the five boys enjoyed a joint meal. They made a pact to always be friends and to do their utmost to keep in touch. If anyone of them ever needed anything, he had four loyal friends to call upon. Gendry had been touched to be included in this circle. He had slowly but surely become at ease in this little group even though he had been subjected to relentless teasing when he had asked Robb whether there was any news of Arya in his message from Winterfell. He had turned red when he defended himself by saying he just wanted to know if she had arrived home safely.
After elaborate thanks to Jon, Robb had turned to Gendry and praised him as well when he finally received his gift just moments before they were about to leave. Somehow Gendry had found the time at the Driftmark to execute an additional order from Jon. He had made a beautiful dagger for Robb. The handle ended in the same miniature direwolf's head as the pommel of Arya's new sword, only the colour of the eyes was different. On his dagger they were yellow.
Much to Jon and Ser Arthur's surprise, Edric had agreed to accompany Robb to Winterfell for a short visit. Edric had apologised to Jon but explained that the opportunity to meet the fat King Robert and his entourage had been the compelling factor. When Robb and Edric set off, the three that stayed behind together with Ghost had climbed a little rise and had waved until the small caravan taking the heir back to Winterfell was no longer visible. Ghost had whined quietly needing comfort from Jon. Jon surmised his wolf would miss Greywind just as much as he would miss Robb.
***
Walking back to the tavern, Jon made sure to talk to Sam. "Would you be willing to help me with something Sam?" Jon asked.
"You know I will," Sam simply replied. "Ask away."
"Come to my room and I'll let you read the letter I got from Maester Aemon. He describes exactly what I need you to do." Jon opened the door of the tavern and let Sam pass through it watching the boy intently. "Have you noticed lately that your clothes are getting somewhat too big for you?" Jon remarked. "You should ask the maid here to help you adjust them a bit. You're not sick, are you Sam? Do you know why you have been losing weight?"
"Well I am training more than I used to and I do not get dessert when we travel." Sam tried to joke. "I don't mind though, I've never felt better and do not tire so easily. You need not worry about me."
The boys waved at Gendry who had told them he would retire to his room. Davos had found him a book with drawings of all kinds of armour, bucklers and helmets and he wanted to look at it some more.
"Glad to hear it." Jon reacted to Sam's statement. They had entered Jon's room. "Let me find this letter first."
"You get a lot of messages, Jon." Sam studied the content of his bed. "Are these all new ones? I hope you have a filing system."
"Mostly new ones. Things are starting to move fast and we need to communicate a lot. Here, I found it. I scribbled the decoded lines between the original ones." Jon handed him the letter.
"Obsidian? Volcanic glass? I will hit the books as soon as I fetch them from the ship. I will need to look for a place where there used to be an active volcano. I bet there will be lots of volcanic glass on Old Valyria, but don't worry, I'll do my best to find a more accessible location." He looked at Jon. "Anything else you want me to do?"
"Actually yes, I would like you to go to the Citadel and forge your chain. I need a Maester. The Wall will also need a Maester to replace my Uncle Aemon. However, I would vastly prefer you to consider entering my services. Go to the Citadel, be my ears and eyes there and come back to my side once you have forged your chain. The Wall is not a place anyone would volunteer to be at right now. It is the most dangerous place in Westeros."
Jon paused and looked at Sam a serious look in his eyes. "I know it will take you a while to come back but keep in mind that Dragonstone and the Driftmark are not that distant from Oldtown. I will find reasons to meet and I will write to you constantly."
"But my father," Sam stammered.
"What would you do if you didn't have to deal with your father? What would you chose if it was just you deciding your own fate without any outside pressure."
"But that is not the case, Jon."
"Sam, I have some very powerful people behind me. If all goes as planned I will be powerful in my own right. You need not face your father. Lord Eddard Stark can write to him that you are studying at the Citadel on the orders of the Warden of the North. He can formulate it in such a way that your father will presume you are destined to become a Maester at the Wall even if he doesn't write it explicitly. This will buy you even more time to decide whether you really want to relinquish your right to Horn Hill. If you want it to go to your brother, I can draft a decree that he becomes the heir no matter whether you join the Night's Watch or become one of my most trusted advisers. If you want to claim your birthright and become the next Lord of Horn Hill, I can make that happen as well. You can choose whatever you want and we will deal with your father. We can make sure you never need to speak to him again, Sam." Jon looked him in the eyes. "Promise me you will make a decision factoring out your father's wishes and solely considering your own."
Sam took a deep breath. "If I take my father out of the equation, my decision is an easy one. I choose you, Jon. If you or Lord Stark can really convince my father, I relinquish my rights to Horn Hill. I will serve you in any way you deem fit."
Jon hugged Sam. You will make an excellent Grand Maester, Sam." He asserted.
"Grand Maester?"
"In time and only if I get to be King. You have the potential, Sam. Nobody understands and retains knowledge as you do." Jon smiled at Sam's shocked expression.
"Grand Maester." This time the words were uttered with reverence. "I want to see my father's face if ever that happens and he learns of it. It will be priceless."
"You will outrank him." Jon shared his hypothetical triumph.
"So how do we go about this?" Sam asked.
"I'll write to Lord Stark today, Sam. You have until this evening to change your mind."
"I won't."
"Good." Jon looked relieved. "Could you find Davos Seaworth? I still need to go through all these messages with him. And thank you, Sam. I really appreciate your decision. We will make the best team Westeros has ever seen. I hope it will not take you too long to forge your chain. I warn you though, I won't let you leave for Oldtown before you teach me an adequate filing system to arrange my scrolls." Jon smiled.
Sam returned his smile and left the room to find Davos.
***
Jon and Davos secluded themselves in Jon's room and screened all the messages. The most important development was that Varys confirmed Stannis Baratheon had left Dragonstone. He and his household had moved to Storm's End. The King had not yet decreed who was to take possession of Dragonstone. Apparently he hesitated to give temporary custody to Lord Velaryon and let him install a castellan for the time being. The King was still debating which noble house he needed to buy a favour of by granting them Dragonstone.
Then there was the letter from Princess Daenerys informing him of her newly arrived suitor Prince Quentyn Martell. The next one was from Prince Oberyn who warned him once more about a possible conspiracy between Freys, Ironborns and Boltons and informed them he was sailing from Seagard to the Wall with his daughter Nymeria. He also wrote of Prince Doran's one-sided action to send his heir to Essos to betroth himself to Daenerys Targaryen. Although the warning came too late, Jon was sure Prince Oberyn had been ignorant before.
A knock on the door interrupted them. Ser Oswell entered, a tiny scroll in his hand. "An urgent message from Maester Aemon, my Prince."
"Thank you Ser Oswell." Jon's tone clearly implied he would read this as soon as Ser Oswell had left the room.
This short message complicated matters. Davos and Jon discussed at length how to juggle all the issues at hand. The decision made, Jon wrote various messages and dictated some to Davos as well. When most of it was finished, he sent Davos to fetch Sandor Clegane. The three of them would visit his dragons. Afterwards, Davos would have the difficult task to relay Jon's instruction to the rest of their group. They would not be best pleased, to say the least.
A bit later Jon waved at Ser Gerold who watched his Prince leave with Davos and Sandor Clegane. Each of them carried a bag with some provisions. Nothing out of the ordinary if he wanted to stay out all night with the dragons.
Jon and Davos were busy discussing some last moment details when Sandor took two big steps to draw level with them. "What's up? Why did you ask for me to come along when you know I do not like to spend an entire night close to big fire breathing creatures. And what the hells are you two whispering about?"
"I'm sorry, Sandor. I'll tell you when we get there. We're almost there anyway." Jon shifted the bag he was carrying to his other shoulder.
"You plan to stall me so I can get no word to the others to try and stop your dumb plan? You think I'm stupid, boy? You think you can play me?" The three of them had stopped walking.
"No, I do not think that. I reckoned you were probably the only one who would understand and let me go. That's why I asked you to guard me tonight. I made sure you will not have to face Ser Gerold's wrath. I have a written statement prepared for him. Besides Davos will have other instructions that will demand all his attention. He will have no time to take it out on you." Jon reassured his friend.
"I ain't afraid of a fucking scolding. I only want you to swear to me you will do everything you can to come back alive. No hare-brained schemes, you hear."
"I hear you, Sandor, loud and clear. But I have to do this. Maester Aemon forwarded me this small note of Uncle Benjen. Here, read it yourself." Jon handed Sandor a small scroll.
Maester Aemon, We have walked into a trap north-west of the Fist of the First Men. The dead surround us. We are currently dug in and can defend our position for a few days still. Without outside help we won't last a sennight. Only send help if you deem fit. Benjen Stark
"What did Maester Aemon advise?" Sandor asked his eyes still fixed on the small message trying to find some hidden meaning.
"The fact that he forwarded this to me says it all. He just writes what I deem fit, he will deem fit." Jon explained. "The Night's Watch can never reach them in time. Maester Aemon warns me that chances are the enemy keeps them alive to lure reinforcements. The more souls, the more victims they can enrol in their army of wights. I have to go, Sandor. I am their only hope. We know that this enemy can be destroyed by fire. You have witnessed how powerful my dragons are. I can help. Hells, I am the only hope they still have at survival."
"What are you waiting for then, kid? I would come along if I could but I guess I will have to sit this one out. Damn!"
"You could help me with something else. Support Davos. Escort him back as soon as I have flown off. But most of all stand by him if Ser Gerold doesn't agree immediately with the orders Davos will give him on my behalf. Promise me that."
"I'll do what I can, boy. Now where are those fire-hazard pets of yours? Do you need any of these provisions?" Sandor took the bag from his shoulder to show what he meant.
"Actually he does. He intends to secure them on Rhaegal's back." Davos' voice betrayed his doubts about the feasibility of such a thing.
"Well, I sure as hells will not be helping him with that. And I reckon you will not either. Gods, they have gotten even bigger since last I saw them." Sandor exclaimed when he spotted the dragons at the opposite side of the clearing they had just entered. He put the bag he was carrying on the ground. "That's as far as I am going, boy. Better say goodbye to me here." he said uncomfortably.
"Thanks for everything, Sandor. I promise to be back soon." Jon said awkwardly not knowing if a more tactile gesture would be welcomed by the large man.
The dragons sensing Jon's mood met him halfway in the middle of the clearing. Jon petted them and then leaned against Rhaegal, silently communicating with him in images. Then he addressed Viserion. "I need your help once more. One of my kin is in trouble. Will you follow your brother?" Viserion tilted his big head so his right eye could stare into Jon's. Jon felt a strong wave of empathy coming from the dragon.
"I just need to fix something on your back Rhaegal. Will you let me try?" Rhaegal lowered his wing, eyeing the three bags suspiciously.
There was no easy way to attach the bags to Rhaegal's back. Jon decided on another tactic. He attached the strings of two bags and placed them where he would sit, each bag dangling on a flank keeping the other in balance. Jon's own weight would have to keep them in place during the flight. The third bag would stay behind. Jon couldn't attach much weight to his own body. It would hamper maintaining his equilibrium during the flight. He would need his agility to ensure he did not fall off if the dragon had to change course abruptly. He waved goodbye to the two loyal men standing at the edge of the clearing and mounted Rhaegal. Both dragons immediately took to the air.
Davos kept gazing at the sky until Jon could no longer be seen. "What an amazing sight. At the speed he is travelling it won't take him long to reach Castle black. Let's head back. We will need to start making plans. Jon intends to invade Dragonstone." Davos picked up the bag Jon had left behind and handed it to Sandor Clegane.
"About fucking time if you ask me. I have been waiting for this ever since he told me he plans to fight for the Iron Throne." Sandor threw the bag over his shoulder and started to walk in the direction of the tavern.
***
"You two just let him fly off?" Ser Gerold exclaimed a bit later in their small meeting room.
"He gave us an order. We had no choice. Do you think you could have stopped him?" Davos countered Ser Gerold's question with one of his own.
"Do you think the dragons would have allowed you to stop him, is the better question here, Davos." Sandor baited Ser Gerold.
"The Prince and I discussed everything this afternoon. He promised he would be back in a few days. He also devised a strategy to deal with some new developments. He asked us to make the necessary preparations and send out messages in the meantime. He has assigned us many tasks. We will hardly have time to worry about him." Davos checked his audience. Only Ser Gerold had a frown on his face. The others seemed to accept their Prince's decision. "But first let me explain why he left for the Wall."
After Davos and Sandor had finished their explanation Ser Barristan intervened seeing Ser Gerold still needed to be placated. "Our Prince had no choice, Ser Gerold. He would never have been able to live with himself. Put yourself in his shoes. The uncle he has looked up to as a father all these years is in mortal danger. Add to that the fact that he has these two powerful dragons and has a very good chance to save the man's life. How could you even expect him not to try and help? You heard Sandor and Davos. The Prince has vowed solemnly to take every precaution and has ensured them he will come back alive. He will not take unnecessary risks."
"It is out of our hands now anyway, Ser Gerold. Better use your energy to carry out the instructions he left behind." Ser Oswell spoke up for Jon as well.
"This is the first time in seventeen years none of us is around to protect him. Excuse me if I have trouble accepting this. Not only are we not there to protect him, he is rushing headlong into a dangerous situation toward an unknown enemy, without threat assessment or battle plan."
"I respectfully disagree, Ser Gerold." Ser Arthur had seen this coming and was ready to defend his Prince. "There is a firm battle plan in place. He has taken two powerful weapons. We know the weakness of this enemy is fire. Jon's plan is so simple he did not need to discuss strategies first. Trust him Ser Gerold. You surely noticed the way he handled himself when he took on those twenty ships. He adhered to the plan of Davos, did not overreact. He deliberated and reacted wisely to the changed circumstances. You do remember he retreated before all ships were destroyed as soon as he saw the archers nock their arrows?"
"What's done is done." Davos tried once more. "Let's focus on this new development. Jon wants to invade Dragonstone. You will need to hear how he intends to do it."
Absolute silence. Then Sandor interfered. "Come on. It's about fucking time we moved forward with the conquer all of Westeros plan. Admit it."
"Varys sent word that Stannis Baratheon has left for Storm's End and has taken his household with him. King Robert is still undecided on whom to gift Dragonstone to. He isn't leaning towards our proposition of installing a castellan under the supervision of Lord Velaryon. He is making a list of nobles he wants to placate and will probably grant it to one of them. We have a window of opportunity here. We must act and claim the island now." Davos saw several heads nod their assent at his impassioned speech.
"What does our Prince propose?" Ser Barristan was curious.
"He asks us to prepare everything for departure so we can leave immediately upon his return. We need to send word to the Driftmark. He wants at least forty ships to be fully staffed and ready to set out. One ship is to make its way there as soon as possible under the cover of a trade mission. The crew of that ship must consist mostly of people of Valyrian descent. Perhaps even crewmembers we recruited from Dragonstone in the first place. They will mingle among the smallfolk and start rumours of a Targaryen Prince returning home. Jon is sure by the time we land most of them will flock to our side. The ship's crew will also infiltrate the castle and assess the situation there. They will send word back to the Driftmark and if all goes according to plan, we will arrive and bring the rest of the fleet with us. He foresees a peaceful occupation."
"Right now we must also send word to Lord Manderly at White Harbour. Jon has prepared an official order to his Master of Ships informing him of the situation and how he must deploy his ships. A copy of this letter will be sent to Lord Eddard Stark as well. He wants to migrate half of the fleet at White Harbour to Dragonstone. That will mean an additional sixty ships. Lord Manderly must make them operational immediately. The plan is to start moving them after he receives confirmation that we have taken possession of Dragonstone. Each day a convoy of five ships will leave White Harbour and sail to Dragonstone. Once they are all stationed there, we will have over one hundred ships and two dragons at our disposal. Nobody will be able to cast us from the island. At that stage, we can start planning our next steps."
Davos paused but nobody spoke up so he continued. "I have to prepare letters to all our allies informing them of the situation. We also need to get the word out to Prince Oberyn. He is sailing north with his daughter. They will perhaps want to change the destination of their journey."
"Why now in all this haste?" Ser Oswell objected. "King Robert is travelling north. Surely Dragonstone will stay vacant for many moons still."
"Jon fears the situation will escalate now that word of the dragons is spreading. He wants to have a home base that is easily defendable. It is actually a smart move. Can you think of a safer place, in Westeros I mean, once his cover is blown?" Davos defended Jon's strategy.
"As long as the Prince is with us when we travel to Dragonstone, I agree. Has anyone noticed we are on the wrong side of Westeros? We have a very long way to go. Did he mention how he wanted to travel to the Driftmark?" Ser Gerold enquired. It seemed he was willing to heed Jon's instructions.
"Not precisely no. But I think he will want to take the quickest route. Perhaps you can work on a proposal by the time he comes back? You also need to know about the research Samwell Tarly is doing. Apparently the enemy north of the Wall has another weakness. Maester Aemon has written about a material called obsidian. It is some kind of dark volcanic glass that can destroy wights with a single touch. It doesn't matter where you stab them. The Free Folk, or Wildlings as you call them, have a few pieces of it but too few to make a difference if the enemy comes at them with superior numbers. Jon wants Samwell Tarly to try and find more of this obsidian."
"Did he describe this material in more detail?" Ser Arthur asked a curious expression on his face. Then he turned to Ser Barristan. "Do you not recall the time we lived with Prince Rhaegar on Dragonstone? There were some caves on that island, near the beach. The Prince once showed them to me saying all that glitter against the walls could just as well have been more rock. He envied the Lannisters their gold mines. The Targaryens got stuck with mines that only contained some sort of dark glass. It would cost more to mine it than the profit it would yield. The only use he saw for it was to make small ornaments or jewellery from it."
"I never went inside so I can't really confirm this. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have a look. One more reason to go to Dragonstone." Ser Barristan looked at Davos when he uttered his last sentence.
"I'll alert Samwell," Davos promised. "This information could substantially shorten his search."
"Ser Barristan?" Davos used this opportunity to relay Jon's orders to the knight. "Jon wishes for you to depart for Essos when we reach the Driftmark. He wants you to sail to Pentos the same day the others receive the intelligence from our scout ship that it is safe for them to occupy Dragonstone. If all goes well, the Princess will be in Westeros by the time her safety and comfort can be guaranteed on Dragonstone."
"I will be honoured to escort the Princess home." Ser Barristan said truthfully.
"Sandor can you organise messengers and ravens? You can ask Sam to assist you. I want a messenger to make haste and catch up with Robb Stark if he can, or travel all the way to Winterfell himself if he cannot. A raven to White Harbour is also a top priority. This raven needs to be followed by a messenger carrying the official decrees. Furthermore, we need to prepare ravens for our allies." Davos proceed to cite names. "
"Can you write that down for me? The only way to ensure I will do this right and not fuck it up." Sandor complained.
"Excellent idea, I'll do that right away." Davos addressed the entire group now. "Let's all start so we can reconvene before supper.
***
In the meanwhile Jon had made good progress. He was glad he had dressed warmly. Sandor had been right all these years ago. You really could freeze to death if you weren't careful. Luckily Rhaegal's body heat warmed Jon's legs and lower part of his body. If Jon got too cold he opened his mind a bit further and let Rhaegal's warmth flow through his body. The dragon even enjoyed these moments of unity. Rhaegal and Viserion didn't seem to mind the cold, at least not yet.
It was rather dark when Jon landed south of Castle Black. He hoped the dragons could remain undetected until he had a chance to speak to his great-great-uncle. As far as he had been able to make out from high up in the air, all eyes on top of the Wall were surveying the lands north of the ice structure and were not paying any attention to what flew in from the south.
He had to knock on the gate several times before he heard a noise. He saw a small hatch being opened and a guard peak through it. "Who goes there? State your name and purpose."
"My name is Jon Celtigar. I received an urgent message from your Maester. I am alone. Let me in so I can explain in more detail inside." He spoke with an authority that had an immediate effect. Jon heard a command being shouted. Moments later the large door opened slowly. Ten heavily armed men of the Night's Watch watched him enter. 'I am glad they are taking their safety seriously. I must, however, talk to Jeor Mormont about guarding the south at night as well.' Jon mused while he entered.
He noticed Jeor Mormont hurrying towards them. "What is the meaning of all this?" the man's voice boomed over the courtyard. "Why has the gate been opened?"
"A visitor has arrived. He claims he was summoned by Maester Aemon, Lord Commander." The guard who had let Jon enter explained.
"Jon Celtigar," Jon introduced himself. "We met several years ago, Lord Commander. I need to speak to Maester Aemon on business that cannot be delayed. It concerns the scouting party Benjen Stark has accompanied."
Jeor Mormont scanned the courtyard. "Did you come here on foot or did you just drop out of the sky?" Mormont now recalled the strange boy that had visited the Wall when he was just a kid. He also remembered how the boy had been cooped up inside the Maester's study for large parts of his days.
"We do not have time for this." Jon tried to govern his temper. "Do you want the scouting party to come back alive or not?"
"And you will make a difference how exactly?" The Lord Commander asked in a condescending manner.
"Does it really hurt anyone to let me speak to Maester Aemon? I told you before he requested my presence and will be waiting for me as we speak." Jon tried once more to get the man to comply. He was getting impatient. Every moment of delay could mean possible disaster for the scouting party.
"The Maester is probably asleep by now." Mormont really didn't know how much stranger this situation could get. "I repeat: did you come here on foot?"
"Never mind, I can find my own way." Jon swiftly ducked one man and quickly disappeared into the building where he knew his uncle lived.
Jeor Mormont signalled his men to let him be. He would sit back and let the situation unfold. How much harm could one boy cause anyway? The Watch was safe. "Look outside and see if you can find a horse or a wagon. And ask the men on top whether they have seen something suspicious coming in from the south."
Jaremy Rykker hated to give the bad news to his Lord Commander. "Lord Commander, did you forget you specifically ordered all eyes to be directed north?" He hesitated to elaborate how his superior had justified his command by stating the Wildlings no longer scaled the Wall since their tentative pact and the threat to the north was top priority now. He also wanted to be alerted at the first sight of his loyal men returning and to do that they had to watch the north side.
Jeor Mormont sighed at the words of his Master at Arms. He had sent his most experienced ranger, Qhorin Halfhand and a promising young ranger Edd Tollet alongside Benjen Stark on this ridiculous scouting mission to prove that the White Walkers had risen again. He was eager to see his best men return.
Rykker tried to placate his commander. "I will personally scout the area outside the south gate. If there is something out there, trust me, I will find it."
"Take enough torches with you. It is already dark out there. And do not go too far. You can always restart your search tomorrow at first light." Mormont agreed to his request.
Jaremy Rykker, formerly known as Ser Jaremy Rykker a member of House Rykker a noble house in the Crownlands and fervent Targaryen supporter had ended up at the Wall after the Rebellion when the defeat of Prince Rhaegar at the Trident had meant immediate doom for all Targaryen loyalists. Given the choice between death and the Wall he had taken the latter and chosen to live. He had made a life here and worked himself up to Master at Arms. He took a torch in his hand, lit it and exited the courtyard. He motioned the guards to stay back. He would go alone. He would make a half-hearted attempt just to appease his Lord Commander. It was pitch dark outside. The search would be fruitless now anyway.
After a while he decided to give up. The only thing he had noticed was some faint light and smoke coming from the woods more than four miles from the Wall. If the young Lord had hidden his co-travellers there, they would still be there for him to find on the morrow. He memorised the position of the smoke and went back inside.
In the meantime, Jon had reached the door of his uncle's room without encountering further resistance. He knocked and entered not waiting for an invitation. A young steward was reading something aloud and startled at the unexpected stranger that entered. Clearly nobody had heard his knock.
"Maester Aemon?" Jon called for his uncle.
Pyp, leaves us, please. You can retire. I will no longer need your services tonight." Sensing the hesitation of the young man the old Maester added. "Do not worry. This is a good friend who has come a long way to pay an old man a visit."
Pyp rose and smiled apologetically at the newcomer.
Jon introduced himself. "Lord Celtigar. I'm pleased the Maester has such loyal friends. Thank you Pyp." The young man's smile broadened and he left the room reassured the old Maester would be okay.
"Aegon, did you travel here on Rhaegal?" Maester Aemon couldn't conceal his curiosity any longer. "Where did you leave him?"
Jon was taken aback by the sight of his uncle. The man had not aged well these last few years. He tried to keep his tone light in order to hide his shock. "Actually I brought both dragons, Uncle. It is already rather dark outside and nobody was watching this side of the Wall. And yes I did fly here on Rhaegal's back. It is an amazing thing, Uncle to fly through the air like that. I landed and told both dragons to wait for me in the woods several miles south of the Wall. As far as I can tell nobody suspects a thing."
"And here I thought our defenses had improved over the years. I will have a word with the Lord Commander about this." He tilted his head toward Aegon. He had heard the young man settle down on the small stool he had used so many years ago."
"Let me hug you, my boy. It has been so long. I feared I would never meet you again. I've been growing tired lately. I do not know why the Citadel has not sent us another Maester yet. I fear I will have to fake my death in order for them to do so. "
Jon kneeled before the frail body of his uncle and hugged him carefully. "Your letters have been my constant guides over the years, Uncle. I hope you will live to celebrate many namedays yet. Now please tell me what I need to know so I can be on my way. Do you have a map or can you point me in the right direction?"
"But it is dark outside." His uncle exclaimed.
"I can use the fires on top of the Wall to orientate myself and I figure the scouting party will be very visible since they will defend themselves with a lot of fire. They will be easier to spot by night than in broad daylight. I will not be able to sleep tonight anyway. All I can think of is what if we are already too late. I came as soon as I could and I will not lose another instant."
"I understand, my boy. I have a map right there on the table. They are north-west of the Fist of the First Men. If you draw a straight line from Castle Black to the Fist on the map, you visualise the angle you need to fly if you take the straight line the Wall forms as your starting point. Oh and take that piece of glass as well. I put the dragon glass dagger your Uncle Benjen left here for research purposes next to the map. If you happen to come across the enemy, this dagger will do more damage than a steel sword."
"Thank you, Uncle. If you don't mind I'll be off now. Could you do me a favour and send a raven to Sea Dragon Point to let them know I have arrived safely at Castle Black?"
"I will do that tomorrow at first light. Take care, Aegon. I still have a lot to tell you. Be sure to come back." His Targaryen uncle called after him.
"I will, Uncle. Stay safe as well." Jon left the room and hurried across the courtyard. When he arrived at the gate Jon addressed the same guard who let him enter before. "I would like to leave now please. Can you open the gates once more?"
The men on duty were taken by surprise. One of them opened the little hatch and checked if all was clear on the other side. They opened the gate just wide enough for Jon to walk through and closed it again."
Not wanting to lose any more time Jon checked to be certain the gate and the little hatch were closed. He called for his dragons to come to him while he was running toward them distancing himself from the Wall. He could sense Rhaegal flying toward him and knew Viserion would be close behind. It was too dark to see anything. 'Give me a small flame so I can see you', he sent the image to Rhaegal. He immediately saw the flame flying towards him. Moments later he had mounted Rhaegal and they were off. 'Hold on Uncle Benjen, I am almost there', he thought. He flew over the Wall and told his dragons to fly without lighting the way until they were far enough from the Wall.
Little did he know that Jaremy Rykker had seen him leave and had watched him run toward a light in the dark. Rykker wasn't sure what he had seen exactly but he would keep an eye on that young man if he ever came back for a visit. He fervently hoped his eyes hadn't betrayed him.
Interlude 13: A popular Princess
Princess Daenerys made her usual stroll across the colourful market. Once every sennight she would indulge herself and saunter past the many stalls tasting all kinds of fruit or buying a bit of silk. Lately, they had increased her already impressive surveillance. Word had it that the Dothraki were encamped rather close to the city.
But it was not the presence of the Dothraki that bothered her. Two sennights ago, Prince Quentyn Martell had arrived at the mansion, citing they were good-family and it was high time they got to know each other. At first, the Prince had been very charming and polite. Daenerys had been flattered by his attentions. Nevertheless, she had kept her guard up and had tried to ferret out who had sent him to her. Jon had never once mentioned Dorne being in on his schemes. Only Prince Oberyn was a close ally but Jon had emphasised that Prince Oberyn acted separately from his brother Prince Doran. She was extra careful never to betray Jon's existence and had instructed her household not to mention her nephew's existence either.
Prince Quentyn had offered her sanctuary in Dorne on several occasions. When she didn't accept, he kept coming up with reasons for her to live with them in Westeros. Although the conversations became tedious, she always made the effort to be graceful in her refusals. Yesterday however the Prince had dropped all pretence and had formally proposed marriage. She had been in a bit of a bind. She certainly didn't want to be pressured into marrying him. However, there was no way she could tell him that she needed a formal approval of the head of House Targaryen. She had rejected him, citing she had a previous betrothal that needed to remain a secret for political reasons. To her, it was not strictly a lie. It was something she hoped would become true sometime. The Prince had not been deterred. Ever since he had doubled his efforts to find some time alone with her. Daenerys never let him within six feet of her without having her Septa by her side and at least three armed guards. Even during the shortest trip inside her own home, she had at least two guards tailing her. She was counting the days until he would relent and return to Dorne.
Prince Quentyn was not the first suitor she had turned down. Over the years many a rich merchant or impoverished noble had courted her. She, however, had either politely refused them or barred them entrance when they became too insistent.
She was just perusing a book on her favourite bookstand at the local market when she spotted Prince Quentyn coming her way. She looked around to see where her guards were. She panicked when she couldn't find them immediately. It seemed she had underestimated the Prince. He had somehow lured her guards away without arousing her suspicion. The bookstall happened to be next to a small alley. He had planned it well. Before she knew it, he had her cornered at the back end of the little alley. His body sheltered hers from view. She stood in a corner and had only a small space to manoeuvre to her right. When she took a step in that direction he immediately mirrored her movement.
"I hate to do it this way. You can still consent to be my wife and marry me today. If not..." He came closer and grabbed both her shoulders. "I am sure I can think of another way to persuade you."
The sneer on his face made Daenerys wonder how she could ever have thought him charming. Her brain was working overtime trying to find a way out of her current predicament. Without any warning, she let out a big scream. Then she followed it up by a cry for help before he could clamp her mouth shut.
When Daenerys saw a fearsome half-naked man with braided hair approach in answer to her cry for help, she wondered whether her desperate move had not gotten her into even more trouble. Before Prince Quentyn even noticed the intruder, he had been struck unconscious. The savage-looking man grinned at Daenerys. "No cry, safe now."
Daenerys nodded her head in thanks but could not totally lift the anxious expression from her face. She calmed down when she looked in him the eyes and realised he did not mean to harm her. His warm brown eyes expressed admiration but not the calculated and sometimes lusty look Prince Quentyn didn't try to hide from her any longer. The smile on her saviour's face looked sincere.
"Beauty have man, no?" The man really turned on his charm now exposing a row of fine white teeth when he smiled at her.
Daenerys was too stunned to answer.
Suddenly the warrior turned around, some kind of curved blade held out before him. Daenerys saw Ser Jorah and two of her houseguard running up the ally, their swords were drawn.
"Daenerys touched her saviour's arm. "Please do not hurt them, they are my guards." She had just realised he must be a Dothraki. Who else had a braid reaching down below one's waist? The curved blade had been the final piece of the puzzle.
The man who shielded her body from view turned his head toward her, still holding his arakh before him ready to slice at anyone who dared to come closer. "Guards? No husband?" He pronounced these words with a very thick accent.
"Guards," she affirmed. "Friends."
The Dothraki studied her closely before stepping aside. He addressed Ser Jorah. "Keep woman safe for you." He simply stated.
"And we thank you for it, Ser." Ser Jorah bowed to him. He studied the body of Prince Quentyn Martell lying on the ground and checked if the young man was still breathing. Then he looked up at his Princess. "You are not harmed, my Princess?"
"Just very scared I hate to admit. Where were you when I needed you?" She had been worried he had been hurt or worse. But here he was safe and sound. She hoped he had a good explanation for deserting her.
"We got blocked by a cart that capsized before our feet. The streets are very narrow and it took us some time to climb over it. I apologise, Princess, we should have spread out more. That way they would not have been able to get to all of us at the same time. It seems I have become complacent and will take measures. Please accept my sincerest apologies." Ser Jorah explained looking very contrite.
Daenerys didn't have a chance to react because the Dothraki spoke up once more, a reverent expression having appeared on his face. "Princess? You Khaleesi? Me Khal. Khal Drogo." The big man mimicked Ser Jorah's bow.
Daenerys had to admit he did so elegantly for such a large man. She smiled and curtsied in return. "Nice to meet you, Khal Drogo. I am very grateful for your help. Is it your Khalasar that is camped outside of Pentos?" Daenerys was more at ease now. She didn't believe he meant her any harm and besides she had three guards to fall back on. She spotted a fourth one at the entrance of the ally. He was preventing the curious crowd that had gathered there from entering.
"Yes, me big Khal, big Khalasar. Pentos buy horses." Khal Drogo tried to impress her, his dark eyes never left her face.
'Great, one suitor down, another one takes his place', Daenerys thought and had to keep a solemn face to prevent herself from rolling her eyes or giggling out loud at the comic situation. She owed it to him to stay polite at the very least. "Let me invite you to our home to give you proper thanks for saving me from this attack, Khal Drogo." She offered.
"Kay," the Khal smiled from ear to ear now. "You live big thing on hill. I see once."
"Princess, is this wise?" Ser Jorah whispered having followed their interactions with astonishment and apprehension.
She replied in High Valyrian but kept her voice down all the same. "Better befriend him than make him an enemy." She switched back to the common tongue. See to it that Quentyn Martell does not wake up before he finds himself on a boat on the open sea heading back to Dorne."
"Consider it done, Princess." Ser Jorah gave orders to two of her houseguards and handed them money to buy passage for the unconscious man.
They arrived at the mansion without further incident. The presence of Khal Drogo had done wonders to disperse the onlookers that blocked the alley. He had shouted an order to two fierce-looking Dothrakis. They followed him at a discreet distance.
When they entered the strong gates that protected Daenerys' home, a stable boy ran up to take the horses to the stables. Drogo ordered his two companions to stay outside and wait for him there. Daenerys quickly whispered a few words in the ear of the boy. "Find your superior and ask him to find our tallest most healthy horse. You know what I mean, one the Dothraki can appreciate. I want to present it to him as a gift when he is ready to leave." The boy looked surprised but hurried off eager to please the best employer he had served here in Pentos.
Khal Drogo entered the mansion and was inspecting everything he saw. Daenerys recalled how they lived a nomadic life and her way of living must be as strange to him as his was to hers.
"Please sit down. Can I offer you some refreshments? Drink?" She added seeing his nonplussed expression.
"Drink," he affirmed choosing the chair closest to her. He kept observing every little detail. He studied her Septa who had entered the room and acted as a chaperone. When Moelle turned crimson he turned his attention to the three guards that didn't leave the room and the one stationed in the corridor. Then a puzzled expression appeared on his face when he observed it was Daenerys who directed the servant and how the man obeyed her smallest request without uttering a word.
"Woman give orders? Not husband?" he asked perplexed by the situation.
"Yes, they answer to me." She offered him some fruit which he took but the questioning look stayed on his face.
"No husbaaand." He slurred the last part of that word. "Woman obey husband no?"
This was her opening to stop his intentions. A little white lie to protect herself wouldn't hurt anyone. "My husband is across the Narrow Sea. I will travel to him shortly." He looked questioningly at her and she tried once more. "I have a husband he is across the sea. Sea," she repeated and pointed at the shores. Big water. We travel across it by boat. And live where the water stops. Westeros."
She saw he understood. "Westeros no good. Poison waters no good."
"You do not have to drink the water. Just use it to travel across it in a ship."
The Khal's attention was no longer on the water. "Husband good, brave, strong? Khaleesi not like husband then Drogo can kill."
"No," Daenerys stopped him. "I have a very good husband, very kind. He will soon come to get me. We will both leave and travel to Westeros. He is Khal in Westeros."
Khal Drogo deflated a bit but seemed to accept this explanation. "Husband Khal then kay." He rose to his feet and put his breast forward. He was a head taller than Ser Jorah and liked to show off his height. "Khal Drogo leave now." He addressed Ser Jorah. "You guard, Khaleesi safe."
Ser Jorah nodded his assent. "I will, I promise."
Daenerys accompanied him outside where a beautiful stallion was stomping his feet impatiently.
"Please accept this humble offering. It is my thanks to you for saving me." She watched him admire the horse. As far as she could tell he liked what he saw.
After a thorough inspection of the horse, the Khal turned his attention to her. He then sighed and accepted the gift. He handed the reigns to one of his fellow Dothrakis who had entered the courtyard. He executed another awkward bow and mounted his own horse. One last time he stared deeply into her eyes, this time with apparent regret before swiftly turning his horse and riding out of the gates without looking back.
"Are you sure that was wise, Princess?" Ser Jorah asked having witnessed the entire scene. "Aren't you afraid he will try something? He seemed much taken with you."
Daenerys answered him standing her ground. "Now that my debt is paid and he accepted the horse, his honour will prevent him from robbing us or doing me any harm. Yes, I do believe this was a wise move Ser Jorah. I have read a book about their customs and social behaviour. I have paid my debt and he will respect my virtue because he believes I am the wife of someone he considers an equal. A Khal will never steal another Khal's wife as long as his rival is alive. The dishonourable conduct of the Dornish Prince is a greater threat. He was going to rape me. He believed that way I would have no other recourse but to marry him. You should concentrate your efforts on keeping such men from me."
"I will do as you ask, Princess. As soon as I hear back from the men who tended to Prince Quentyn, I will inform you. And I will take extra security measures when you visit the market in a sennight. You will not have to give up your only excursion outside these walls or feel unsafe doing it. That I vow to you." Ser Jorah bowed his head.
Princess Daenerys acknowledged his promise with a nod of her head and went back inside. She planned to write another long letter to her nephew. She hoped the talk of all these suitors harassing her would urge Aegon to move up his time table and let her come to Westeros as soon as possible. As far as she could tell by his written reports, he had the means to keep her safe already. She didn't necessarily have to live on Dragonstone. She would be willing to travel with him. Three fully staffed ships surely were enough to keep her safe? Sometimes she wondered whether he would ever come for her at all.
***
Almost two moons after the incident with Prince Quentyn, Princess Daenerys was quietly sitting downstairs. Her Septa was reading to her from one of Jon's books. It distracted her from her latest quandary. She would soon have to write Jon about the tentative alliance the Tyrells had offered her. She was hesitant, however. Her fear was that her nephew could possibly jump on the opportunity and offer her hand to the Tyrell's in exchange for the support of a prospering kingdom.
She realised her musings had distracted her and she had missed part of the story. "I'm sorry Moelle. My thoughts wandered for a bit. Can you read that last paragraph again please?"
Before the Septa could comply, Ser Jorah entered the room. "Princess, a visitor to see you."
Daenerys sighed. "If it is another suitor, please send him on his way. I had my fill of them for now. Tell him I am already married or use another excuse to get rid of him. If this continues, I will have to up my guard."
Ser Jorah smiled. "I am fairly certain this man is not another suitor, Princess. I believe he will be a most welcome visitor." He gestured the man to enter the room.
"May I present to you Ser Barristan the Bold, former Kingsguard of your brother Prince Rhaegar, currently serving your nephew Prince Aegon?"