Raenna
Laying a trap for a child was not one of Raenna’s proudest moments, but she knew what had to be done. She herself had probably been even younger back when Terroma had taught her how to use a knife. No, she wasn’t proud of it but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it and as such, after having brought the situation to their attention, she knew that she had to be the one to deal with it. “You go on ahead”, she spoke towards the group. “I’ll take care of it”
“Like hell you will”, Ozerog growled. “Nobody heads off on their own out here. We don’t even know if that wildling brat is on her own. Could be a Nightrunner trap” He made a good point there and Raenna had no reply to him aside from a mild grimace. “How are we going to do it then?”, she asked. “You wanna come with me?”
Ozerog gave her a quick nod. “And another one. Rangers patrol in groups of three, so this is how we shall keep it for this entire expedition. You won’t even leave the group to take a shit unless you find yourselves two people to come with you” Raenna rolled her eyes. “Splendid”, she sighed. “So, who’s it going to be then? Our third man?”
“Me”, Mace Crowl spoke up and Raenna knew at once that he would be the best choice. Where the other Northerners moved through this snow-covered forest with just barely less effort than what she would have expected from a Southerner, Mace seemed right at home beneath these trees. The rest of the group slowed him down more than the snow did and, yes, this included Raenna herself who once again had to remind herself how deeply out of her element she was here. Sure, she knew how to move unseen, how to set up an ambush, how to follow a trail, she was confident in her strengths, but never before had she been shivering so badly from the sheer cold. A dragon, even just a half-blood, did not belong here.
“You?”, Ozerog mumbled, before he shook his head. “You’d wish, Skagosi. You’re basically half a wildling yourself and if it were up to me, we’d have left you at Castle Black” He noticed the displeased look on Dag Umber’s face and quickly pulled himself together. “Besides, someone has to look out for that horned beast of yours. You want Saint to hold its reigns while you go with us?”
The other ranger managed to show a nervous smile. “I’d rather not…”, he interjected, just as Mace gave him a reluctant nod. “I can only offer my aid”, the Skagosi spoke. “I won’t force you, crow” Even Raenna knew what this term meant and who usually used it, so Ozerog’s reaction was not surprising. He took a few steps towards him, just as Dag Umber stepped in his way. “Jorn, you go with them”, he ordered, before he shot Ozerog a mild glare. “And you… you’re only here because the Lord Commander sent you with us, so tread lightly. I want my brother back, nothing else matters, so if I ever get the feeling that you’re more trouble than you’re worth…”
He didn’t have to finish his threat for Ozerog to back down. Though Dag was mild-mannered compared to his ferocious brother, he was still an impressive sight, tall and bearded, with his calm, quiet wolf always by his side. “Mormont then”, Ozerog agreed, without looking Dag in the eye. “A good choice. I can respect that” Jorn Mormont saluted in front of Dag. “I won’t disappoint you, Ser”, he promised, which Dag replied to with a quick nod. “I don’t want any more bloodshed than necessary”, he explained. “You will make sure of that, Jorn”
“What if this is a trap?”, Eon Dustin remarked, but this time it was Mace Crowl who shook his head. “A trap would have been more obvious”, he told him. “I was barely able to spot the girl. Erik was with me at the time and he still could not see her. If she means to lure you into a trap, she’d have made it just a slight bit more obvious that she was following us”
Erik Flowers confirmed this with a nod. “That’s not how wildlings act. Especially out here, where the Nightrunners live, we’re much more likely to be ambushed after sunset”, he spoke. “From my time among them, they are more likely to sneak up on us while we’re sleeping. Might be better to confront the girl now, so that she won’t be given the chance to get the drop on us”
“It is settled then”, Dag stated. “We will push on, at half speed for now, so that you can regroup with us later. You go and confront the girl, but do not harm her unless necessary. I wish to spill as little blood as possible out here” Ozerog commented on this with a sneer. “You know the wildlings won’t thank you for your mercy”, he replied, to which Dag merely shrugged. “My brother would agree with you”, he revealed. “But he lets his hatred of the wildlings get in the way of his principles. I have sworn an oath, however, to protect. Make no mistake, every wildling raider standing between me and my brother will met a grim end, but I draw the line at senseless slaughter. The girl will not be harmed unless she forces your hand, not until we find out why she’s following us”
The ranger grimaced at these words, though Raenna found them admirable, to be honest. She was unhappy about having to confront this child at all, though she knew of their concerns. She could even understand Ozerog, who was unwilling to take any chances. After all, she had spent years in the presence of similarly uncompromising men, few of whom she missed. “You’ll see, Ser”, Ozerog stated, as he turned towards Raenna and Jorn. “There are no innocents beyond the Wall”
With these words, he marched on, with Raenna and Jorn close behind him. Saint Strad continued to lead the rest of the group and in this thick forest they were soon out of sight. “You alright with this?”, Jorn asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his gaze fixed on Ozerog’s back, though his words were clearly directed at her. “If this child turns out to be dangerous… I don’t think I could kill her” Raenna shook her head. “Me neither”, she admitted. “But we can’t have anyone follow us out here, not until we know what she’s up to”
“Nothing good”, Ozerog stated, his voice only slightly louder than theirs. “You’ll learn soon. Those wildlings are not some southerners to take pity on. From the moment they are born, they have to fight to survive. It hardens them, makes them cruel. Show them any weakness and they’ll devour you. Lot’s of promising recruits have to find that out the hard way each year. It’d be a shame for you to join their rotten ranks”
Before Jorn could reply, Ozerog placed one finger on his lips. “Quiet now”, he whispered, his voice low and almost swallowed by the wind that howled around them. “If the Skagosi told the truth, she’ll be near. Take cover, wait for her to come. Once she’s close enough, we strike” He had one hand on his sword as he spoke and while Jorn and Raenna were both armed as well, she could see that only he was actually eager to use his weapon. She could only pray it would not come to this.
But for the time being, she did as he told her. On all fours she crawled next to a snow-covered bush, hiding herself among the branches. She never had to hide with so much snow around, but the concept was the same as anywhere else. Try to blend in with the surroundings, try not to be seen, remain patient, strike only when victory is assured. Terroma had taught her a lot after all and no matter the terrain, she knew she could remain hidden from all but the most experienced trackers. Ozerog was similarly skilled, especially for such a broad man, as he expertly climbed a nearby tree, hiding himself among the lower branches. Only Jorn took a second longer and after a moment of consideration, he stepped the farthest away from them, to the other end of their small grove, where a few thick bushes offered ample cover
Their footsteps were a different matter, of course. Usually the snow would have covered them within minutes but here beneath the trees not much of it reached the ground. The thought occurred to her only after she had already gone into hiding, but this could be a genuine problem. Up until this point, the entire group had marched in a line, leaving several sets of straight footprints but here, where the three of them had gone into hiding, footsteps had cut through the snow all over the place.
Before she could do anything about it, she heard something, someone. A twig snapping between light boots, someone trying and not quite managing to move silently through the fresh, crunchy snow. Instinctively, Raenna placed one hand on her dagger, though she hesitated and did not actually draw the weapon. There was a child approaching, the steps only further confirmed Mace’s observation and despite Ozerog’s warning, she could not bring herself to actually ready herself for combat.
And indeed, soon enough the footsteps came closer. Someone who walked with care, but who clearly did not expect an ambush. As she turned her head, she could see a small figure out of the corner of her eyes, readily approaching the spot where the three of them lay in waiting. It was indeed a girl, Raenna could make out some of her features beneath the thick hood.
To her surprise, this person was not a child. A girl, yes, smaller and thinner than most of her age would have been, but with not much younger than her. From afar it would be easy to mistake her for someone younger, but up close Raenna could see a hardened face. Gaunt features, pale, starved eyes and light blonde hair tucked away beneath a heavy hood. She was armed with a spear, which she held casually, a bow hanging over her shoulder and though Raenna had heard her coming, she actually moved with experience and care, her eyes scanning her surroundings.
This changed quite a bit. Raenna had never killed a child, never even entertained such a sickening thought and she never would, but this was essentially a woman grown, even if she was smaller and thinner than the women south of the wall, over a head shorter than even Raenna herself, but that didn’t make her any less of a threat. Still, Dag had given her an order, to kill only if necessary and she intended to honour it.
Her intention was to make the first move, as the girl was slowly getting closer to her hiding spot. One step, then another and then Raenna could attack her, not to kill but to disarm. Reaching for the hand that held the spear, she jumped from her hiding spot just a moment before the girl would have spotted her. The wildling gasped, eyes wide in surprise, but she reacted swiftly. As Raenna swung for her hand, the girl grabbed the weapon with both hands to avoid being disarmed. As she did, she let out a startled scream, but her eyes quickly regained their focus. They struggled for a second, but Raenna quickly managed to grab the spear to avoid being swung at.
Behind her, Ozerog jumped from the tree, landing in the snow and drawing his sword all at once. He let out a hoarsy chuckle. “Typical of the Skagosi!”, he spat. “That ain’t no girl at all, but a grown wildling spearwife” The girl noticed him and her eyes widened. “Crow!”, she yelled, just as Raenna yanked at her spear. Doing the only right thing here, she let go of the weapon, almost sending Raenna tumbling back against the bush. At the same time, she reached for her belt, where a short knife with a hilt made of bone was dangling.
Before she could draw it, Ozerog’s sword was pointed at her throat. Behind her, Raenna readied herself, pointing the spear at the girl’s back. “Put your hands up, slowly!”, she yelled, but the girl ignored her, her gaze fixed at the ranger. Ozerog had a twisted grin on his face now, as he slowly narrowed his eyes. “Say goodbye, wildling bitch”, he hissed, as he reached out for a swing. “Ozerog!”, Raenna yelled, but before she could intervene, Jorn was between him and the girl. “Hold it, man!”, he barked. “We’re not going to kill her!”
The girl spun around, likely trying to use this opportunity to escape, but Raenna wasn’t going to give her the chance. Though a spear was hardly her weapon of choice she had been wielding it before. This one was well-balanced, light and short, easy to handle, yet with a freshly sharpened tip and with one swift strike, she had the very same pointed at the girl’s throat, forcing her to stop. “Your hands”, she yelled again. “Put them up” This time, proving that she was at least able to understand her words, the girl complied.
Behind her, Jorn was still holding Ozerog back. The ranger was struggling against his grip, still trying to point the sword at the now unarmed girl. “What is wrong with you, Mormont!”, he spat. “The deal was we don’t kill a child. That’s a spearwife, a fucking raider. Probably has more blood on her hands than you ever will!”
“We don’t kill unless we have to”, Jorn spoke, his tone stern and sharper than she had expected of him. “Now calm down. Dag gave us an order. Let us find out what she wants from us and then we decide what to do with her” Ozerog shot him a spiteful glare, but indeed, once Jorn let go of him he lowered his sword. “I expected better from a Mormont”, he sighed. “But it’s your funeral”
“We’ll see to that”, Raenna replied, before she looked back at the girl. “Can you understand us?”, she asked, receiving only a stare filled with hatred in return. “Yes”, the girl then hissed. “You… are crow? I did not know they have she-crows now” Her accent was strange, harsh and unpleasant to the ear, somewhat similar to the Ibbenese of northern Essos and though she seemed fluent in the Common Tongue, she clearly lacked practice.
“I’m not a crow”, she clarified, earning herself a distrustful glare from the girl. “He is”, she spoke without looking at Ozerog. “You are not?” She looked from Raenna to Jorn. “If you are not crow and not free folk, you don’t belong here. This land is not for you, Southlander” Raenna shrugged. “I don’t intend on keeping it”, she promised. “We’re here because we’re looking for someone and we’ll be gone once we have found him. But before we can continue we need to find out why you were following us”
“I can tell you why”, Ozerog interjected. “She was going to slit our throats at night or put an arrow through our hearts with that bow of hers” This time, the girl almost looked at him, with only her own spear, which Raenna still pointed at her, preventing her from doing so. “You? Probably”, she spat. “Them? I don’t know” She looked back at Raenna, now a cocky, cold smile on her face. “I saw you after you left Nightfort. Odd group, too many for a ranging party, many of them not looking like crows. You have a wolf with you and a horned horse. Crows don’t have horned horses”
“Perceptive”, Raenna replied. “As I said, we’re not crows. Our leader is looking for his brother, a Northerner who crossed the Wall to join your people” The girl narrowed her eyes. “Northerners don’t need to cross the Wall”, she corrected her. “You are looking for a man from the south. You are probably looking for a dead man”
“We believe he met a man who now works for Horik Half-Thenn”, Raenna replied and immediately, the smile on her face faded. “Then he is dead”, she clarified. “Half-Thenn hates Southlanders. Hates most people, but them… he is from the Ice-Rivers. Eats his enemies. Them, he eats while they still breathe. Roasts them over a fire, digs into their burned flesh, consumes it while they have to watch. If your friend is with the Half-Thenn, pray to the gods he met a quicker end”
“You know Horik Half-Thenn?”, Jorn now asked and the girl gave him a grim nod. “He is strong to his own people, but everyone else fears him. He is the strongest chieftain beyond the Wall. Only Red Ragnar fights against him, but he lost many men to Half-Thenn and to Icebeard” This got Ozerog’s attention again. “Icebeard? You tell me Agmun Icebeard has joined the Half-Thenn?”, he barked, before he spat onto the ground. “The Lord Commander won’t like that”
“Icebeard joins no man”, the girl clarified. “But he hates Ragnar as only Half-Thenn does. They have… how do you say… common enemy” She looked back at Raenna. “Is this what you wanted to know? I followed you because I was curious. Maybe I could have stolen some food from you” Now as she said this, Raenna noticed just how thin this girl was. Underfed, to the point where it had kept her small, perhaps not actively starving but still with hungry, desperate eyes. “What’s your name?”, she asked and the girl’s expression grew slightly more distrustful. “Why do you ask?”, she hissed. “Because I want to know who has been trying to steal from us, girl”, Raenna clarified, earning herself a joyless chuckle. “I would have done more than just trying, Snow-Hair”, she claimed. “If you must know, I am Kaya”
“Great, now you know her name”, Ozerog scoffed. “Surely that’ll make it easier to kill her” Briefly, he glanced down at his sword but one quick look at Jorn seemed to convince him not to attack the girl again, not without an outspoken order. “We’re not going to kill her”, Raenna decided at once, before she looked back at Kaya. “As long as she promises not to harm us” Kaya shot her a crooked grin. “I don’t make promises”, she spoke. “But I know when I am outmatched. It was a stupid idea, stealing from the kneelers and their pet crows. If you let me leave, this will be the last you’ve seen of me”
“Sounds like a deal…”, Raenna began to say, before Jorn Mormont intervened. “We are looking for the Swan”, he spoke and if Kaya’s baffled reaction was anything to go by, she recognized that name as well. “How do you know of her?”, she hissed. “No kneeler does. Few crows do. No one who is not free folk has ever seen her”
“With us is a Night’s Watch deserter who claims to know the way”, Jorn clarified and finally, Ozerog let out an exhausted groan. “Well done, you stupid fuck!”, he snarled. “Now she knows where we’re headed, so that she can tell her Nightrunner friends all about us” Kaya shook her head. “I am not with the Nightrunners”, she stated. “I am Kaya and I am on my own. Have been ever since the fog took my village”
“The fog?”, Raenna asked and for just a second, Kaya truly seemed like a child. The calm, confident facade cracked, revealing a pain that was all too familiar to her. “Not the fog”, she stated. “But what’s in it. People disappear. Have been for decades. The fog takes them, as the elders say. To the north, beyond Thenn, the fog takes entire villages, men, women, children, leaving no corpses, only frozen homes and cold ashes. You should not go there, kneeler”
“I hope we don’t have to”, Raenna stated, but Kaya’s words were sending a shiver down her spine. Perhaps that had been a wildling tale, something to scare children and strangers, but this land was so bleak, so cold and hostile that she could easily believe it, entire villages just disappearing. “We are looking for the Swan because we hope she can help us find our leader’s brother”
“Maybe she can”, Kaya confirmed. “Even Half-Thenn respects her. If she calls for him, he will listen. He will tell you what happened to your friend, how much he suffered before he died. If you want to know, you have to meet with the Swan. Smart plan for kneelers and crows” She glanced at Raenna, then carefully at Jorn. “Why did you tell me about the Swan?”, she asked. “You want something, yes?”
“Perhaps”, Jorn stated, but instead of replying to her he was looking at Raenna. “Look at her, she’s half-starved. Desperate enough to sneak up on a group as large as ours. I want to help her and maybe she can help us in return” Ozerog shook his head. “Out of the question”, he growled. “Leave the wildling rat to starve. Still too good a fate for her”
“You want help?”, Kaya asked and Jorn gave her a nod. “We only have the word of a deserter, a man who broke a sacred oath. Erik seems like a personable man, but I don’t want to put my trust in him unless I have to. If we find another guide, perhaps we’ll now if he intends to lead us into a trap”, he explained. “Do you know the way to the Swan, Kaya?”
The girl bared her teeth at him in something that resembled a mixture between a smile and a grimace. “I would laugh at you, but I am too hungry for that”, she spoke. “Yes, I know how to find the Swan. You want to find her, then we can trade. You give me food and shelter, I lead the way together with your traitor crow”
Finally, Raenna lowered the spear, to Kaya’s relief. “And if it’s too much of a risk?”, she asked, earning herself a quick nod from Ozerog. “Will you try to steal from us again?” Kaya shrugged, though her expression softened slightly. “I have learned my lesson”, she claimed. “Let me go and you will not see me again. I promise”
“Sneaky wildling talk”, Ozerog growled. “We should just slit her throat and be done with it” The girl send him a vicious glare and if not for the fact that Raenna was still holding onto her spear, she would have probably attacked him just then. “You would like that, crow, wouldn’t you?”, she hissed. “Killing free folk is all you’re good at. Husbands and brothers. Women and children”
No, they were not going to kill her. As much as Ozerog wanted it, Jorn was against it and so was Raenna. But she was not quite so sure if she approved of Mormont’s approach. For someone who was so quick to distrust Erik, he seemed naively eager to trust this starved, desperate wildling girl. Yes, she could prove to be an asset, a second guide in case anything would happen to Erik, but she could just as easily prove to be a threat. And yet, Raenna knew that this decision would be up to her, with Ozerog and Jorn having made up their minds already. In the end, of course, Dag would make the final decision, but just taking her to him could be a risk if she truly was with the Nightrunners as Ozerog feared.
[Take her with you] [Leave her]
Ysilla
Yoreen was not playing around, she could see it in his eyes. He had killed Allar in cold blood and he would do worse to Jenelyne if she continued to be stubborn. If even half of what she had heard about him was true, that was not a bet she was willing to take. “Forgive me, princess…”, she mumbled, before she met his gaze. Somewhere behind him, Theon Toyne was now sitting upright, glaring at her like a starving wolf. Yoreen’s gaze however was that of a man, beastly in looks, but intelligent, focussed, careful. “I will tell you everything”, she replied. “If you swear that Jenelyne won’t be harmed. Once father has paid the ransom, I want you to send her with us, alive and well”
The knight narrowed his eyes, only briefly so. “You are hardly in the position to make demands, girl”, he hissed. “Be as it may, I don’t care about your little friend, whereas your information is of great interest to me. As long as you’re honest with me, I will do as you have asked of me. She will be treated well, if not as privileged as you and she will accompany you once your father has paid”
“I wish to speak to her”, Ysilla continued, this time getting an ugly chuckle out of the man. “Don’t push your luck, bitch”, he hissed. “If not for the events that led to Dylar’s death, I’d be humoured by your brazen attitude. Now… make no mistake, one wrong word, one cocky demand and I’ll smash your teeth in before I send you back to Godsgrace. Try smiling then”
She hadn’t smiled though and even before his threat she hadn’t been in a joking mood. “That won’t be necessary”, she assured him and it took her all her confidence not to shiver. She was afraid of this man and he knew it. “Just… please, keep your word. I will keep mine” Once again, she took a deep breath. They’d brand her a traitor for this at worst, a coward at best. But now was not the time for bravery. Allar had been brave, now he was dead. The least she could do was to learn from his mistakes.
“We… meaning me and my brother Theodan, as well as Jen and Allar, we’ve been hand-picked by Absidee of Lys”, she revealed. Theon and Yoreen both recognized that name and so did the Iron Viper, to her surprise. She was the only one who could see the expression on the sellsword’s face, however, for he was standing behind Theon now, his eyes wide with surprise.
“The Yellow Toad’s spymistress…”, Yoreen growled. “So you are spies after all?” She shook her head. “We are scouts, but not in the way you might think”, she told him. “I… don’t know how much you’ve heard from other parts of Westeros. Do you know that we have a common enemy, the three of us?” Yoreen and Theon exchanged a quick glance. “Do you mean the dragonlord?”, the former then asked. “Theon spoke of him when he and his men arrived at my camp”
“I told you it was all hogwash”, Theon replied. “He landed with a pitiful host and is likely to turn north, for he fears the men of my liege. King Argilac, for what it’s worth, hasn’t even sent me any new orders, so I doubt he sees him as a threat either. And your kingdom doesn’t have to worry about him at all. Not even the dornish rats. Harren the Black will flay him alive for challenging him”
“Now, wouldn’t that be a sight…”, Yoreen mumbled, but while Theon was openly dismissive of her words, he had listened carefully and his expression was as calm as ever. “Why did Absidee of Lys take the risk of sending you here?” Ysilla sighed and this time, she focussed entirely on him, as much as he terrified her. One wrong move and she knew he would rip her apart. Unlike Theon, who seemed incapable of such feelings, she knew that Yoreen would smile if given the opportunity to kill her. “Lady Absidee believes him to be more dangerous than you assume”, she revealed. “She’s from across the Narrow Sea. She’s seen Balerion the Black Dread in Volantis and she’s seen what his ancestors did during the days of the Freehold”
“Harren Hoare has a hundred thousand men under his command”, Theon Toyne spoke up. “Aegon Targaryen has three dragons. Even if each of them burns a thousand men before they are taken down, this is a hopeless battle” Yoreen nodded slightly, but to whom she could not say. “Perhaps”, he admitted. “Or perhaps the Riverlords declare themselves for Aegon. It is foolish to put our hopes into Harren the Black, as Absidee of Lys clearly agrees”
“And why should we care for what Absidee of Lys thinks…?”, Theon began, but Yoreen cut him off with one move of his hand. “Why are you here, girl?”, he asked. He leant closer now, no longer caring for the food on his table, his sole attention on Ysilla. “I…”, she began, her voice thin now, meek with fear. “Absidee knows of a man who lives near Oldtown. He’s a Dornishman and a scholar, who has dedicated his life to studying the dragons. He might be one of the only men in all Westeros who know how to kill one of those beasts. Me and the others were sent to retrieve him, so that his knowledge could keep Dorne safe during the war to come”
“A scholar who wasted his life studying dragons”, Theon Toyne spoke, his expression a cynical grimace. “They’re a dying breed, the beasts themselves and those who care about them. This war to come will be won as all that came before them, by men, not beasts. If this is the big plan you meant to tell us, I say you should reconsider her usefulness, Yoreen” The Reachman did not look at his Stormlander companion, instead he was still focussed on Ysilla. “Be glad I am the one who decides on your fate, girl”, he growled. “Theon would kill you and I cannot blame him. Your kind has taken many lives”
Just a few hours ago, she would have replied to him there, probably said something snarky, something stupid. She would have provoked him despite all that she had heard about his horrible deeds. Now, however, she had seen first hand how he truly was. Words did him no justice. The cruelty in his gaze, the casual brutality each of his gestures promised. Ysilla had met many people who had looked down upon her, but none had ever made her feel so truly small. As such, she did not dare to protest, to point out the sheer hypocrisy within his words.
“Nothing?”, Yoreen asked, having obviously waited for her reply. “So be it. I see no lie here… surprisingly so. You should have told me the truth to begin with, perhaps we could have avoided this mess” Now, she grimaced and could not quite contain her words. “Dorne depends on this man. Do you think I would have sold him out so easily?”
Yoreen shook his head, ever so slightly. “No, I don’t think so”, he stated. “You love your brother more than you love your realm. I cannot emphasize nor respect that, but I understand where such a sentiment comes from. Perhaps Absidee of Lys should have sent a more experienced agent across the border, one who’d rather bite off her own tongue than tell me anything” As he spoke, he once more reached for his plate, no clearly in a better mood. With a sickening grin, he pushed a thick grape into his mouth, biting down and sending red juice running down his chin.
“This man…. I want his name and his exact location”, the knight added, before he reached for his knife. With one move, he sliced through the cheese in front of him, impatiently tearing at it and stuffing a piece into his mouth. “Absidee has provided you with that much, hasn’t she?”, he added before swallowing.
“She hasn’t”, Ysilla began, even the thought of defiance gone from her mind. A braver woman would have done just as he had just told her, she would have bitten down onto her own tongue to choke on her blood. Theodan would have done so, Ashara as well. But here she was, putting her life and that of her family above all Dorne. “Only his name”, she added, just before Yoreen could respond, his vicious glare being threat enough. “His name is Laryl Callace. According to Absidee’s information, he was last seen in Oldtown, but even she has not yet managed to find him”
“So she just sent you to find one man in all Oldtown?”, Yoreen replied. “Perhaps she isn’t as smart as I thought her to be” Ysilla shook her head. “She’s desperate”, she told him. “We all should be. You might dismiss her concerns, but if she’s right, just think about it for a moment, imagine what this would mean for Westeros. Not just Dorne, not the Reach, not the Stormlands… imagine if these three dragons are truly as dangerous as she believes them to be. Your kings will send their armies against them, only to find that they have little to stop a fully grown dragon. Thousands will perish”
“I can see that Absidee has you properly scared”, Yoreen agreed. “Doesn’t mean she’s right. She’s Lysene, practically Valyrian herself. Perhaps she wants to spread fear in Dorne, of the Dragonlord and his Black Dread. Weakening you from within with pointless errands when you should rather be gathering your armies. Ever thought about it that way?”
She hadn’t and she wouldn’t. Though Absidee was not a Dornishwoman by birth, she had Princess Meria’s utmost trust and that was good enough for Ysilla. “Absidee is not my enemy”, she spoke firmly. “No matter how big a threat these dragons truly are, it cannot hurt to learn more about them” This time, Yoreen gave her a nod. “It cannot”, he agreed. “Which is why I don’t believe Absidee of Lys just sent you to Oldtown without any knowledge of his whereabouts. Be honest with me”
This sentence was calm, almost innocent in its nature, but accompanied by such a chilling glare that Ysilla couldn’t help but wince. “She mentioned a man who might be able to help us. One of the Manwoodys of Kingsgrave, Dagar the Red Skull”, she spoke, her lips moving almost on their own, her voice thin and hasty. “He lives near Oldtown, in the village of Bullsbridge, but over the years he’s been keeping an eye on Laryl”
“Bullsbridge, that’s close to Uplands. And this Dagar Manwoody… that one sounds familiar. Is there anything remarkable about him?”, Yoreen asked, this time not looking at Ysilla, but at his Stormlander guest and at the Essosi sellsword behind him. Theon gave him a nod. “The Manwoodys have been savages for generations, with Dagar being the worst since the days of Albin the Mad King”, he revealed, his tone firm and his expression grim as always. “He’s a warrior of renown, but he lacks even the notion of principle”
“Guess that only makes him more dangerous”, Yoreen mumbled, before he glanced at the Iron Viper. The sellsword had an odd expression, a barely contained surprise, one hand nervously clenched around the hilt of Faith. Ysilla felt anger rising within her as she had to witness him touching her families sword, Theodan’s weapon. He caught her gaze and a shaky smile flashed across his face. “You have anything to add, Viper?”, Yoreen asked and after a moment of hesitation, the Iron Viper gave him a nod.
“I have met the man, in fact”, he revealed. “Only from afar, I wouldn’t even call us acquaintances, but he left an impression. It was on a battlefield in the Disputed Lands and back then I’ve been glad that we fought for the same side” Now, his smirk grew more confident. “But I have only gained in experience since then. Should Dagar Manwoody prove to be an obstacle, I would gladly champion for you once again”
“You make him sound quite impressive. Almost makes me want to fight the man myself”, Yoreen spoke. “But we’ll see if we even need to approach him at all. I have my own sources in Oldtown and to find this man I’d even use my father’s contacts, if they haven’t soured to him as all men do in his presence” He turned back to Ysilla, a cold, crooked grin on his face. “You have been honest to me at last, girl”, he hissed. “Perhaps you should have told me from the very beginnig, then your friends’ blood wouldn’t be on your hands now”
Ysilla flinched and briefly glanced down at her own hands, freshly cleaned after the bath she had been given. “Would this be all?”, she asked, her gaze still lowered. She heard Yoreen’s hollow chuckle. “Do you expect worse of me?”, he asked. “If it eases your mind, I consider myself a man of my word. You and your brother will be sent back to Godsgrace, alive and unharmed, as soon as your father has fulfiled my demands. Your little friend as well, I have no use for her here”
“And Faith?”, Ysilla asked, realizing too late how harsh her tone sounded. As she looked up, Yoreen was staring right down at her, perhaps surprised, perhaps amused, but to her relief not angry. “Your brother’s sword, yes…”, he mumbled, before he shot the Iron Viper a glare as angry as the one she had expected to receive instead. “Did you recognize this weapon, Viper?”, he asked. “Is that why you asked for it?” The Iron Viper shook his head, taking his master’s anger with an equal amount of patience. “I recognized a well-crafted sword”, he spoke. “I suspected her brother had stolen it from somewhere. No matter though, for I consider it mine now. Do you intend to take it from me?”
“You will be recompensated… generously”, Yoreen confirmed. “If Lord Allyrion manages to find even more coin in that treasury of his. If he’s unwilling to pay for the sword, you may keep it” The Iron Viper forced a smile, clearly not pleased with this reply. “I hope he won’t”, he stated. “But as always, I will yield to your wishes, Ser”
“Yeah, yeah, Essosi twat”, Yoreen mumbled, before he turned back to Ysilla. “Now, what are we going to do with you until then? You still hungry?” She glanced down at her plate, the food on it barely touched despite her growling stomach. While he spoke, Yoreen had reached for another chicken leg, even though half of the first one was still on his plate. His fingers dug into the flesh, tearing a piece out and stuffing it into his maw. “I must have lost my appetite”, she mumbled.
“Suit yourself then”, the knight spoke. “You’ll receive a small breakfast and leftovers for dinner, enough to survive but I won’t starve any of my men for you lot” He pushed himself away from the table. “We are finished here, I got the answers I’ve been looking for. The Iron Viper will escort you back to your tent, where you will remain until called upon. I won’t chain you, but should you leave your tent without my permission I will break your legs. Should you try to escape, I’ll do worse to your brother, are we clear?”
This time, she forced herself to nod. “Perfectly”, she confirmed. His threats were not empty, but she saw a method behind them, a reason. As long as she played by his rules, he would not make good on them. “Excellent”, Yoreen exclaimed. “Now, nobody shall say I mistreat my prisoners. Before you return to your tent, you may meet with one of your companions if you so desire”
Her eyes widened and this brought a smile to his face, not joyful, but relishing in her fear, her distrust of even such a seemingly generous offer. “What’s the catch?”, she asked and he shook his head. “There is none”, he claimed and by now she knew that he was many things, but not a liar. “You have been forthcoming tonight and it is only knightly to reward you for that”
“And… Theodan… can he receive visitors?”, Ysilla stuttered, to which Yoreen shrugged. “He’s out cold as far as I know, sleeping and healing. You might wish to see him so that you can ease your mind, see that he’s indeed still alive”, he clarified. “Your friend meanwhile, that sobbing girl, she’s still at your old tent. A right proper mess you put her in and if you ask me she might be needing some words of comfort. You decide though, family or friend. One visit only. Ten minutes, with the Iron Viper always present. Make the most of that time, for you might not see either of them for a long while”
[Meet with Theodan] [Meet with Jenelyne]