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***
P.O.V. Daenerys Targaryen
Late 297 A.D.
Pentos, Free Cities.
Walking through the seemingly endless streets of Pentos, I was once again convinced that every city of Essos is beautiful and has its own special scent. The endless canals and bridges of Braavos, where the scent of fried clams and spices wafted through the air; the narrow streets of Myr, with its unique bouquet of freshly baked goods and red-hot iron; the labyrinthine Tyrosh, reeking of unwashed poor men and sailors; the giant Volantis, the dark Quokhor, and the heady Lys... each of these cities was imprinted in my memory with its own peculiarity.
Pentos, too, had its own specialty - along with the notes of unique expensive perfume, rare spices, spicy cheese and expensive wine, there were the smells of sweat, blood and filth that were common to any large city.
Wrapping myself even more tightly in a thick gray cloak that hid my small stature, frail build, Valyrian violet eyes and silver hair, which were my pride and the signs that my brother and I were being sought by the Usurper, I quickened my step and soon found myself on the high fortress wall, where I had a beautiful view of the seemingly endless Pentoshi Bay.
"How beautiful..." - I smiled happily, breathing in the fresh sea air and inwardly relaxing. Such rare walks, which I could barely beg from my brother and Master Illyrio, were the only outlet where I could relax and forget about all the worries and troubles. Forget that I was a runaway Targaryen princess, forget that I was dragon flesh, forget that I had to help my brother reclaim our father's throne, forget that in two weeks my "fiancé" would be arriving here, the one they say I sometimes have nightmares about.
«Oh.
«Princess, you shouldn't run so far away. - Jorah Mormont, a large man with a big black beard and a funny bald spot, called out to me. According to him he was an exiled knight from the Seven Kingdoms, my true home, who had traveled long in Essos and knew a lot of interesting things.
Behind him stood three Unsullied warriors with bellies bulging out from under their leather armor, holding spears and shields. My "guards."
«I'm sorry, Ser Jorah. - I apologized to the knight, knowing that the Usurper's spies and assassins were everywhere, and it was best not to let my guard down. - But I wanted to see the sea so badly! After all, we'll be leaving soon for the Dothraki steppe and I won't see it for a long time.
«I understand, Princess. - He smiled good-naturedly, this man who reminded me of a bear from the books and speeches I had once seen in Volantis. - I grew up near the sea myself, and I know very well what it's like not to see it for a long time. You can watch as much as you want. It won't be a big deal.
«All right. - I nodded happily, turning on my toes and once again admiring the shimmering light on the blue mirror of the bay.
The ineffable beauty of the water was mesmerizing and captivating in its impermanence and freedom. In this it was like fire - uncontrollable... captivating... strong and free. For ages I was ready to just stand and admire such different and unlike manifestations of nature.
We didn't stand silently for long. Little by little, Ser Jorah began to tell me where the ship coming into port had come from and how he had realized it. I was interested, so I didn't stop him. For example, he said that the long galley, with triangular purple sails, came from Braavos. It was the only place where it was customary to paint the sails that color. The ships from the daughter triangle could be identified by the same principle: Mir was sky-blue, like a cloudless sky, Tyrosh was deep blue, like a stormy sea, and Lys was bright turquoise, like the color of a sea wave. Ships from Westeros turned out to be very easy to identify, too - the main thing was to look at the flags, where the coat of arms of the house that owned the ship was depicted. So, in the hour we stood on the high ground, one Redwyne galleon, one Velaryon lightjacket, and three rooks with white scythes on their black sails, which Ser Jorah said belonged to House Harlow of the Iron Islands, had arrived in Pentos.
The life of the harbor did not cease for a moment, resembling the swarming of industrious ants in the earth. Until ten black dots appeared on the horizon.
«Dong-dong-dong-dong...
Suddenly, a small bell in the harbor began to chime frequently, distracting me from looking at the graceful swan ship from the Summer Isles moored there. The dots were rapidly approaching, becoming more distinguishable. They turned out to be ships. Strange ships. They could be described in one word: medium-sized. Without the grace of the Swans, the size of the Arborians, the speed of the Braavosians, or the majesty of the Volantians. But they were beautiful in their own way in their minimalism and modesty, incorporating the best features of all the ships I had seen today.
«Tempers. - Ser Jorah said suddenly, making me flinch and distracted from admiring the giants flying on the surface of the water.
«Tempers? - I asked, hearing the name for the first time. Though it seemed vaguely familiar. - Who are they, Ser Jorah?
«One of the richest families in the Seven Kingdoms, along with the Hightowers, Lannisters, and Tyrells. - The knight replied, stroking his shovel-shaped beard. - This is a very young house. I knew their founder, Felix the Bloody Jackal, personally when he was just a simple merchant just starting out.
«The Bloody Jackal? - I was interested in a very strange nickname that sounded like "Kingslayer," which was the nickname of my father's assassin, Jaime Lannister.
«It's a long and not very pleasant story, Princess. Though I'm surprised your lordship's brother, His Highness Viserys, didn't tell you about it. - Ser Jorah said nostalgically, turning his head sharply and looking toward the streets leading to the harbor. - Now we'd better get out of here. It's going to get very crowded soon.
As I followed his gaze, I saw a column of lancers, archers, and knights in red clothing, with the image of a yellow sun with a purple flame burning inside it, running quickly through the central entrance to the harbor. And if the spearmen and the archers who followed them did not cause me any questions, then the fully armored swordsmen armed with heavy swords and shields, accompanied by huge shaggy dogs with withers reaching up to my chin, frightened me very much.
«Temper's Latniks. - Mormont said, picking me up sharply in his arms and whisking me away into the maze of streets. - We need to leave quickly. These are some of the most elite units in their army. If they're out of their warehouses, the cargo on the ships is valuable, and they'll be patrolling the port carefully.
«Valuable? - I asked, not even trying to quell my curiosity.
«If the Lannisters and Tyrells are considered the richest families in Westeros because they rule the rich West and the Vast, and the Hightowers own Staromest, the second largest city on the continent, then the Tempers have risen on trade. - Ser Jorah continued to tell the story without slowing his step, heading towards Master Illyrio's estate. - The porcelain ware and perfume that Mopatis gave you were created in the countless manufactories of Osgiliath, the city founded by the Jackal. Glass, paper, timber, amber, furs, expensive liquor, porcelain, perfume, luxury sweets... The Tempers sell and resell so many things that their wealth is legendary in Essos. And they don't scrimp on protecting their wealth. You've seen the ships, haven't you? They're Ithyans, unique vessels built only in the shipyards of Osgiliath. In their depths, in addition to their gigantic holds, are hidden numerous artballists and scorpions capable of throwing shells filled with Dornish fire, a stuff that cannot be extinguished by water and easily burns the boats of foolish pirates and raiders. And they only travel in caravans of ten or fifteen, constantly avoiding storms and ambushes by pirate barons. Some people think they use magic, since even through Valyria they pass through without much damage.
Slowing down, noticing that we were in the main streets, and lowering me to the ground, Ser Jorah continued on his way, holding my hand and continuing his interesting tale:
«And we fled, Princess, because it was very dangerous to stay there. The Army of the Tempers is not well known in the Seven Kingdoms, for it was created after the Usurper's Rebellion, but in Essos it is respected and feared as much as the Roses, the Sons of the Wind, and the Cat Company, some of the strongest mercenary forces in the Free Cities. I fought them myself while I was a mercenary on Roina, and the memories are not pleasant. - The knight finished, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
«Why? - I was curious and, remembering one moment, added. - And how could you fight them, if they are from the Seven Kingdoms and not mercenaries?
«And you are observant for your age, Princess. - Ser Jorah smiled, adjusting his hood over his head. - The Tempers, in addition to simple trade, sell their army. They have been fighting in the Free Cities for five years now with their iron hand. Their phalanx is hated by the Dothraki, who have never managed to break through it, and their archers are considered to be among the best on the continent, often covering unlucky enemies with a hail of arrows before they can get within shooting distance. I'm not even talking about the cavalry and combat vehicles that their commander is so fond of using. But the biggest nightmare on the battlefield are their laptops. They are already well-trained swordsmen, but they also work well in teams, covering each other's backs. And their dogs..." The sire was silent for a moment, pausing to unfasten the ties on his sleeve. - ... When such a creature comes at you, capable of tearing your throat out with a playful hand, any thoughts other than flight disappear very quickly.
«How do you know all this? - I asked in surprise, imagining what it would be like if such a monster rushed at me. Scary. Very scary.
«I myself barely got away from one of these battles. - The man replied, pulling up his sleeve and showing the terrible scar on his shoulder, where the marks of some very large teeth were visible. - Besides, they have a good sense of smell. If they spot us, they won't lose us for a long time. So let's hurry to Master Illyrio's manor.
«I will. - I nodded in agreement and sped off in the right direction, inwardly promising myself to learn more about such a dangerous and powerful house. And about the Seven Kingdoms themselves. As it turned out, there was a lot my brother hadn't told me.
***
P.O.V. Jon Arryn
298 A.D.
Small Council Hall, Red Castle, King's Landing.
The regular meeting of the Small Council was peaceful and quiet as always. Robert was drinking and cheating on the queen again, old Maester Pycelle was freezing in his chair, wrapped more and more tightly in his robe, Prince Renly, as gallant and well-groomed as ever, was talking to Petyr, who was often looking at his large talmud with endless rows of numbers, and the ever-smiling Stannis and smiling Varys were sitting in their seats, immersed in their own thoughts. Only Ser Barristan was absent this time, training with Prince Tommen.
«Prince Joffrey's twelfth birthday is coming up. - I brought up the main topic of the day. - Robert has decided to organize a grand tournament, complete with prizes and festivities. Prince Renly, will the gold cloaks have no trouble keeping order in the streets?
«Of course not. - Instantly answered this dandy, who not only did not control the guards, but was only in King's Harbor a few months a year, not performing his duties as Master of the Law at all. But he had to be tolerated, and not just because he was Robert's favorite younger brother. No. He was one of the strongest and most powerful lords in the Seven Kingdoms, just a little short of the strongest grand lords. The Storm Lords adored him, the knights of all lands respected him, the nobles also treated the king's younger brother with deep affection. And when you think of his ties to the Tyrells... A fearsome man, though he hid under the mask of a young hustler. Or is he really like that? - The City Watch will be put in the best condition possible.
«As long as Janos Slynt is at the helm, it will never be "at its best." - The voice of the middle Baratheon, still sitting cross-legged and watching the others from beneath his furrowed brow, came in a bass voice.
«Brother, you remember our king's words-'Every guard steals. Better a known thief than an unknown one. Appoint a new one and he may turn out to be worse than the last." - Renly smiled his trademark smile, twirling a black curl between his fingers.
The sound of teeth grinding against each other could be heard throughout the room. Still, the only one I truly respected was Stannis. A man of honor and principle, incapable of treachery and lies. It's a shame Robert never liked his middle brother and exalted Renly, or King's Landing would be the most law-abiding city on the continent, on par with Osgiliath and Lannisport.
«How much money will the crown be able to allocate for the tournament, Petyr? - I changed the subject, knowing full well that this was going to be a most unpleasant moment.
«The tournament that his majesty described would require at least forty thousand golden dragons. - My protégé Petyr Baelish, better known as Littlefinger, answered. The petty lord of the Feathers, who worked in the customs office of Chayach City, had caught my attention years ago with his ability to extract money in the shortest possible time-one of the most important skills for any Master over coin. I elevated him, gave him power and the ability to steal a little, as he believed in secret from me, and in return he and all the money flows of the Seven Kingdoms were in my hands. - As you know the treasury is now in great debt and we can't allocate such an amount.
"Eh-heh-heh... And that's just the way it is, isn't it?" - I thought tiredly. - "The constant drinking and partying of the king, the buying of jewelry and silks for the queen and her children, the maintenance of court idlers, the constant tournaments. The Iron Throne is ruined, and Robert's not going to do anything about it."
«How much do we owe now? - I asked the question I'd been afraid to ask for almost three months.
«Three million fifty-eight thousand to Tywin Lannister, eight hundred forty-two thousand to the Tyrells, nine hundred thousand to the Church of the Seven, two million to the Iron Bank, a quarter million to the Tempers, three hundred thousand to the Tyrosh cartels and the Staromest Bank. - Petyr spoke in a steady voice, making my heart race in horror.
"Seven and a half million gold dragons... Five hundred thousand more than before." - I thought in despair as I saw the same shocked expressions on the faces of the Baratheon brothers and Pycelle. Even Renly, a notorious gambler, had lived comfortably off Storm's End and hadn't driven him into such debt. - Where did it come from, Baelish?
«Two hundred thousand went to the standard expenses and upkeep of the court, but a caravan of Tempers has recently arrived in the city, my Lord Hand. - The Master of the coin replied, adjusting the mockingbird fibula on his camisole. - It was carrying a rare cargo from I-Ti, and the queen, along with the princes and princess, had bought up almost all the jewelry, exotic sweets, ivory, and silk they had brought, leaving nearly a hundred and thirty thousand dragons. Add to that the king's buying back of almost all the alcohol, kitchen purchases of spices, replacing broken dishes, repairing the fleet that had returned from the Steps, replacing windows, restoring the White Sword Tower, and other small things, and the total was about two hundred. And then there were two tournaments, the Queen's birthday and the anniversary of the King's accession to the throne. So we'll have to borrow money again. But the good news is that Lord Tywin Lannister himself will be attending his grandson's birthday party this time. I've already contacted him, and he's willing to lend us another loan at a very low interest rate. (a.k.a. who cries out for too much, remember who Littlefinger is)
«All right, do what you want, but get the money. - I said tiredly, rising from the table and going to my tower. Old age is no fun and I needed some rest. I might even spend some time with my son. He had been spoiled lately and had stopped practicing because of Lisa's indulgence. - This meeting of the Small Council is over for today. You may adjourn.
***
P.O.V. In the third person
298 A.D.
The Master's quarters over the Ships, Red Castle, King's Harbor.
As he signed and set aside another report on the completion of repairs to the ship that had been damaged in the expedition to the Three Sisters, Stannis Baratheon rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild irritation.
Everything was going down in the Blaze, and it wasn't going to stop. The growing influence of the Lannisters at court, Renly's growing estrangement from the family, the Spider's strange movements, Littlefinger's unnoticed theft, Jon Arryn's investigation beginning... And he, a simple Master of the Ships, lord of a worthless Dragonstone and the king's unloved middle brother, didn't know what to make of it.
Whoever the other "players" in this snake bank called Red Castle thought he was, the middle Baratheon had never been a fool. A fool couldn't defend Storm's End for two and a half years, beat the Ironborn at the Battle of Bright Isle, and hold the Narrow Sea together in a way that some of the Velaryon admirals who lived in the golden age of the Seven Kingdoms and had twice as many ships as he did. No, the main reason he was disliked by his brother, the lords, and the common people was because of his principles.
The unbreakable principles he'd followed all his life. To honor and uphold the law, to care for his subjects, to be true to his oaths, and most importantly, not to lie. Not to anyone, not to an enemy, not to a friend, not to a brother, and most of all not to himself. That was what Ser Delwyn Selmy, his tutor and closest friend, now deceased, had willed him, forging the linchpin upon which Stannis's entire identity was built.
«Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock...
A faint knock came from behind the door, and the corners of Lord Dragonstone's lips lifted slightly upward at the frown. Only one person in all of Red Castle could knock like that.
«Come in, Shireen. - If Stannis's subordinates were here, they would be surprised at the softened tone of their lord and master.
The door opened and a thin little girl walked into the small office, densely packed with cabinets, books and scrolls, with a desk occupying the entire center. She wasn't particularly attractive - her father's square jaw and her mother's slightly stubby ears didn't add to her beauty. And the small scar on the back of her left ear made it even worse, especially if you knew where it had come from.
Stannis shuddered inwardly when he remembered how a peddler from the Free Cities had nearly killed his daughter of the Grey Sickness six years ago. No matter how you look at it, he did not have the fertility of his older brother and genuinely loved his only daughter. So when word got out that the girl had been infected, along with a bloody peddler hanging from one of the many dragon statues, a loud cry for help went out across the Seven Kingdoms with the promise of a high reward for whoever could save his daughter. Even Robert came out of his bender for a couple days, sending orders to the Citadel and increasing the reward tenfold from the royal treasury.
It didn't help.
All the maesters, champions of the Seven, charlatans and sorcerers from Essos could do nothing, and they all cried at the same time that the girl could not survive. And the disease was spreading and taking almost all the skin behind her ear, not thinking of stopping.
Stannis was desperate. He had already given up and accepted that he had lost his only child. Until an old blue-eyed man arrived on a small ship, dressed in a good gray chiton and a leather bag slung over his shoulder. He introduced himself as Quibern and said he knew how to heal Shireen, showing an old and dusty book that made Cressen, Maester of Dragonstone, faint.
Banned in the Citadel was a book called Rare Diseases by Archmaester Pilos.
It described a dangerous and difficult method of curing this incurable disease that could kill both healer and patient. Stannis had nothing to lose and, despite the entreaties of his courtiers, he gave this Quibernus a chance.
It was a success. His dear Shireen was completely rid of her gray and hard skin, with only a small scar perfectly concealed by her ear. And Quiburn simply walked away, taking his reward, flashing a sun-shaped fibula with a flame burning in the center.
«What is it, daughter? - Baratheon asked, snapping out of his recollection and looking once more at the child who had entered.
«It is late. You should rest. - The girl replied shyly, fixing her loose hair, trying to cover her Florent ears and the scar she was so embarrassed of.
«Where is your mother? - Stannis asked gruffly, looking out the window, the starry sky having long since spread beyond the panes. He had indeed lounged about, as he always did, absorbed in business.
«Mother had gone to meet the Red Priestess from Essos. - The girl answered and, seeing her father's veins swell at the temples, quickly added. - She said my lady needed to be met urgently and asked me to bring it to you.
As angry as Stannis was, and as cruel as the Seven Kingdoms were, where hitting children was part of upbringing, he wasn't about to raise a hand against his innocent daughter. So after taking a few moments to calm down, he stood up and took his daughter by the hand and led her to his family's quarters, saying only curtly:
«Let's go. It's getting late. I'll put you to bed.
***
P.O.V. Klisa Granaz
298 A.D.
A shepherd's house in the Red Mountains, Valley of the Sunflame.
«Klisa, get ready quickly! We have to get out early if we want to get into town before noon!"-her father's loud shout from outside made her hurry up and make her hands work faster
«Okay, dad. - I shouted back, quickly putting the last round of cheese in my shoulder basket and, rising from the cellar, quickly ran outside. My father was already waiting for me there, holding our five donkeys, with the same basket on his shoulders, and talking to my mother about something.
«Honey, are you sure you're going to be all right? You know how hard the transition is, and Klisa just turned fourteen. - My mother, a swarthy, black-haired woman whose face was beginning to wrinkle with age, was holding the hands of my younger siblings. The oldest, Algro, had only recently turned eight, and he, like the others, didn't want to let the two of us go on the long journey and cried, clinging to my mother's skirt.
«Lykia, you have to start somewhere. - My father, like my mother, who had black curly hair and swarthy skin, smiled, gesturing to me and stroking my head, ignoring my discontent. - What could possibly go wrong? This is the land of the Tempers, not Lhazar, with Dothraki barbarians running around. They'll meet us at the outposts and escort us straight to the Valley of the Solar Flame. Besides, Klisa is a big girl and it's time she saw the outside world. And it's time for her to find a bridegroom, and I can't carry the dowry alone.
A groom... According to my mother's stories, in their homeland, the great sunny Giskar, located across the distant sea, all girls, on their coming of age, were chosen a groom, regardless of their wealth and position. And my father had no intention of abandoning that tradition. He hoped to marry me off to a middle-class craftsman or merchant in the city, with a good dowry, just for the sake of that, I was given such sciences as counting, literacy in Andalos and Valyrian, embroidery, manners, history, and rhetoric.
After saying goodbye and praying to the Great Harpy, we set off on our journey to the city of Osgiliath, four days away. First we had to climb up the slopes of the Red Mountains, leaving our little valley to reach the huntsmen's outpost, and then, accompanied by them, head straight for the city.
My mother and father ran away from Slave Trader's Bay when I was very young. My father was from a small, but very ancient, Giskar family, descended from a side branch. Together with my mother, the former daughter of one of Astapor's wealthy burghers, he traveled to Lhazar and conducted some small exchange trade there. But a terrible thing happened - the ancient Astapor family of the Good Gentlemen of Granaz, to which we belonged, was completely slaughtered, and all survivors were declared criminals and a considerable reward was put on their heads. We had to flee far to the west, first to the Free Cities, and then even further to the Sunset Kingdoms, finally settling in the lands of the local gentlemen... lords with the surname Temper, renting a small valley with the remaining money and becoming simple farmers, hiding from the bounty hunters.
"And that was hard for Father to accept, wasn't it?" - I thought as I continued up the hill, feeling the cold getting colder and colder. It was going to snow soon. - "From a noble Giskar to become a simple shepherd who doesn't even own one slave. Stupid barbaric laws of the Seven Kingdoms. Why aren't we allowed to own slaves!?"?
After only a few hours of relentless climbing, we were not far from the peaks, where it was already snowing heavily and the trampled path was just a memory. The only way not to get lost and not to get lost was to follow my father, who had passed here dozens of times, or to look at the vague lights in the distance, like beacons in the night, pointing to the forts of the gamekeepers.
Huntsmen.
A separate detachment of Tempers whose job it was to guard and patrol the Red Mountains from the Vile River all the way to the Valley of the Sunflame. As the few soldiers who occasionally dropped in for the night because of blizzards or in company with the tax collectors told us, their service was not permanent, and every few years they were transferred to a new location.
For example, one of them told me that he had previously served in a mercenary unit belonging to the Tempest and had fought in every part of Essos, having once traveled to my homeland, beautiful Astapor. However, no matter how hard my mother and father tried to get more stories about their hometown out of him, the Huntsman had little to say - most of the time he and his squad were contracted by Yunkai to fight the Unsullied. According to him, they had slaughtered the Giskar army that had come to meet them with the help of "self-propelled vehicles" and "wargs" and were preparing to storm the walls when suddenly the commander, whom he called "Silver Bestia" for some reason, got a slap on the wrist from the leader of the squad and called them off. It turned out that the Wise Gentlemen who had hired them refused to pay the promised amount and broke the contract, deciding that since the Unsullied under the walls were defeated, they could not pay.
It didn't end well for them - there were still plenty of Euncai slaves outside the walls, easily dispersing the remaining militia and the mercenaries left behind after the Ironclads and Thunderbirds left, driving the Yunkai back to their walls, and the Yunkai trade blockade organized by the Luck Bastard had caused them much distress.
"I wonder what he's like?" - I thought wistfully, remembering stories from my father, who had seen him several times and described him as a true giant, with long black hair and bright green eyes. - "So much to achieve, even though he was a simple graheri (p.a. in Giscoran, a traveling merchant)... I wonder if I could do that? No... It's a silly fantasy. I'm not even a man..."
Under such unhappy thoughts we reached the gamekeepers' outpost in the evening.
"Outposts..." - My eyes widened in shock, showing the extent of my shock. - "Why, they're whole castles!"
The place where the gamekeepers lived looked more like giant towers, their tops touching the clouds, equipped on all sides with the same stone houses and fortifications, from which several pairs of eyes were looking at us.
«Come quickly, my daughter. - My father distracted me from admiring the stone giants and led me with a quick step to the small gate, which had already begun to open. - The blizzard is getting worse.
We spent the night in the fortress. The gamekeepers, when they saw the badge given to all farmers living in the Red Mountains, let us in without question, gave us a room and invited us to dinner in the great hall. The meal was simple - a tasty stew of fresh vegetables, mushrooms and meat, a glass of hot wine with spices and at the end a real treat - a couple of slices of peach in honey, distributed at the end of the meal. As the gamekeepers themselves later told, such a meal in Westeros could afford only the men of the Tempers - the other lords had soldiers fed from their own cauldron. Of course, the lions and roses who were famous for their wealth, or the Arryns or Baratheons who valued their men, often paid their soldiers so much that they could eat more and taste better, but compared to the rest of the houses, it was heaven and earth.
At the outpost we waited three days. All this time, shepherds flocked from all the farms and villages, in great multitudes scattered in the Red Mountains, just as we were going to the coming fair. All these days, I talked in my spare time to the gamekeepers on duty.
There was little to tell a simple shepherd's daughter, so I was mostly a listener, only occasionally asking questions.
The lives of most of the soldiers, the oldest of whom was no more than thirty, were similar-as children, either orphans or refugees from the Rebellion, or as fourth or fifth peasant sons, they came to a military camp and signed a contract that obliged them, after a rigorous training, to serve twenty years in the Tempers' army on full pay, and then to retire with the wages they had earned during their years of service. As Jor, an archer and the sixth son of a small merchant, more or less able to count and write, told them, depending on their places of service, merit or war, they could receive between fifteen and fifty gold dragons at the end! Incredible money that a simple family could live on for ten years without working.
In the camp itself, they were trained from 5 to 8 years, and the first three years were always preparatory - all the Huntsmen said in one voice that they were chased like the Unsullied Dothraki until they "looked like humans instead of fat pigs". And afterward, their instructors would administer an examination, at the end of which they were assigned to one of four squads.
First came the test for swordsmen. Those who could tame a warg, a great beast of war from the far North, and who had the rudiments of talent or persistence with a sword, were taken to be swordsmen. According to the lads, about one in four succeeded, and they were considered the most elite unit in the entire army. Although it was only in words - the swordsmen present in the fortress behaved like everyone else, and the only thing that made them stand out was the presence of a large battle sword, the strongest smell of dog, and the fact that it was from them that the lord's guard was selected.
The next selection was for the riflemen. Their requirements were clear - sharp eyesight, strong hands, the ability to run and hide. A maximum of a third were selected and trained in all types of shooting, from avalanche volley in large battles, to single and group ambushes on foreign soil.
The remaining recruits after two selections became pikemen. When I foolishly suggested that this was the worst unit, the guys just laughed like Dothraki horses. Yes, the requirements for lancers and archers were higher than for lancers, but everyone in the Tempers recognized that the most demanding, toughest, and best teachers were the lancers. Those who joined the Citadel Guards who guarded the Vale were trained by ruthless and inventive female warriors from the distant Hyrkun Fiefdom, who hammered into them the skills of the protazan, shield, and crossbow in the streets of the city and in the houses with iron sticks. And those who served as an unbreakable wall in the main army were trained by those whose martial prowess has been known for millennia, since the days of Ancient Gis - the Unsullied. According to those who served in the fortress, their mentors were not very talkative, but they did their duty - the ability to wield the spear, shield and short sword, and the teamwork instilled in them at the level of habit saved their lives more than once during the battles in Essos.
Essos...
So many of the boys had stories about it. Half of them had served as guards in the Free Cities in the trading branches of the Tempers, having traveled to such cities as Pentos, Braavos, Volantis, Valisar, Seloris, the Three Daughters, Qarth, and the Bay Cities of the Slave Traders. The tale of each of them stretched on for hours, taking me to distant and uncharted lands as different from our little house in the mountains as the sky is different from the earth.
One of them, the silent and gray-haired archer Achilles, had even been to Mantaris, the famous "City of Monsters." As his acquaintance told him after several cups of wine, who had trained with him in the same group, he had been a cheerful and sociable man before serving there, but several trips to the lands of the Monster Swamps, once called the lands of the Long Summer, had not affected him in the best way.
According to him, on the last trip, out of a hundred trained soldiers, with hired guides, a large supply of provisions, medicines and weapons, only a third of them returned after six months. They barely made it to the outskirts of Oros, the second largest and richest city in the Valyrian Republic, and turned back almost immediately. The creatures that lived there, the description of which made my heart sink into my heels, had not torn them to pieces thanks only to the wargs, who had bitten their masters with their teeth for time to flee, and the fact that they had not gone further than the outermost parts of the city.
"According to the stories of my grandfathers, Balerion the Black Terror, the greatest dragon of the former Targaryen kings, could cover entire cities with his shadow alone." - Said Achilles at the end of the evening when everyone was about to go to bed. - "There were hundreds of such creatures out there."
The next day, when the shepherds and their flocks, accompanied by the huntsmen, went to Osgiliath, one of the soldiers told me that after that incident the Tempers had stopped sending their men to Valyria and now used mercenaries and adventurers who willingly put their heads into the jaws of the fatal dragon.
It took nearly a week to reach the Valley of the Sunflame, because of snowdrifts, narrow passages, and mountain beasts that had dragged away two sheep in the night but gave up their skins in return. But when, at sunset on the fifth day, I saw the vast green valley in the setting sun, my breath caught involuntarily.
Ahead and to the left, as far as the eye could see, stretched endless fields and gardens, separated by white lines of aqueducts (!!!), with occasional specks of villages made up of tall and neat houses. And to the right spread out the boundless blue of the sea, a great drop jutting into the earth. And on the shore of that drop stood him.
The white city drowning in greenery that I had been told so much about. A place where dreams come true. As Daddy sometimes joked, "the reborn Giscar on earth." Osgiliath.
«Klisa! Come quickly! - My father called out to me as he started down the path. - We must get to the tavern before sunset!
«Yes, father! - I shouted back, and after another glance around and a moment of admiring the view, I hurried after the others.
We spent the night in one of those villages, renting a room in an inn for one star. As soon as I came in and laid my head on the surprisingly soft pillow, I fell asleep, for walking through the mountains was not good for anyone's strength.
It was only in the morning, when the sun rose, that I stood up and noticed how different this place was from our home. First, there was the smell. A very pleasant smell of freshly baked bread, fresh sheets, and oiled wood. This place was new, built very recently. Secondly, the pillow. It was not stuffed with straw like at home, but with goose feathers and down, so it was very expensive.
«Dad? - I called my father, pointing my finger at the pillow.
«Daughter, I told you that the local lords are the co- or owners of everything in this valley. - Understanding my question he began to answer. - Their head invests in everything on his land and closely monitors its quality.
«Why? - I asked perplexed. Most people don't care whether they sleep on a straw pillow or a down pillow. Why would they bother?
«Reputation, daughter. - Father answered, as he finished dressing and prepared to leave. - These lands have a very special reputation. You'll see for yourself when you look at the city.
«Good.
When we went outside to wash up, I finally saw the village I couldn't see yesterday because of the darkness.
"Beautiful," I thought. Almost the entire village consisted of tall houses of two, three stories, built of gray stone and covered with black and blue tiles. Even though it was early morning, people were already walking along the cobblestone streets, minding their own business. Someone was rolling a cart full of hay for the cattle, someone was carrying buckets full of water inside the houses, and someone was going to the already open benches, from under the awnings of which the smell of fresh bread, herbs, and frying fish was so delicious that my stomach quickly reminded me that I hadn't eaten well in days.
«Let's wash up quickly and go have breakfast. - Said the smiling father, noticing my face reddened with shame.
After rinsing my face in the fountain in the center and eating a giant omelet with cheese, sausages and bread in the tavern, drinking it with fresh fruit juice, my father and I went to the city, which was perfectly visible from the height of the small valley where the village was located.
I did nothing but swivel my head almost the whole way. Boundless fields of pentail (a local name for hemp), with people working on them, gardens smelling of fruits, distant buzzing of hundreds of bees and sometimes passing guards, in armor shining in the sun... For me, who grew up in the mountains and saw little in my life, it all seemed like a fairy tale. A real fairy tale that my mother told me as a child.
And when a huge gray monster with a long nose, white spear-shaped growths and big ears came out from behind the bend in the road, I almost fainted until I realized that it was an elephant. The big, kind animal my father had told me about. They were brought here from the far east three years ago and have been used as big horses ever since.
«Can I pet it? - It came out of my mouth as he came closer to us.
«Of course, girl. - A very dark-skinned man walking ahead of the elephant answered, ahead of my father, who wanted to pull me back. - Jumbo loves affection. Don't you, baby?
Walking up with a stiff step, to the excited face of my dad and the encouragement of the rider, who began to whisper something in the elephant's ear, I put my palm on the rough and slightly damp skin of its neck.
"Great Harpy, how wonderful!" - I thought, while my hand lived its life and gently stroked this big miracle.
I came to my senses only after my father had shouted to me that we must hurry to the town and threw a copper grotto to the good driver.
We were in the city itself only by noon, passing through the majestic white walls, rising almost twenty meters above the ground, and passing through a quick but very qualitative inspection, where the guards, armed to the teeth, almost went down the throats of our donkeys. But in spite of the scorching sun and the unbearable heat, the streets of Osgiliath were full of all kinds of people. And the farther we got from the gates, the more there were.
Acrobats and circus performers putting on colorful and interesting shows.
Common townspeople walking the streets or sitting under small awnings near numerous taverns and drinking cold drinks.
Merchants beckoning to their stores or stalls located right on the first floors of houses.
Patrolling guards, constantly flashing their gleaming helmets in every corner of the city.
Carters, using as harness everything from simple horses to the same elephants, on the backs of which were placed real small houses.
The foreigners were the easiest to recognize - almost all of the Free Cities SS flaunted colorful beards, colorful clothes, and massive gold ornaments. Though my father had pointed a few times to the Giscarians, who were mostly bald and wore elaborately decorated togas of snow-white gold and silver.
But most of all on the streets were the simple artists, creating under small awnings just off the road, and the musicians, playing music so beautiful it made your feet dance.
«Father, are there many craftsmen in other towns, too? - I asked, pointing my finger at a young artist who was painting a portrait of a beautiful lady under a large umbrella, dressed in a closed red robe.
«No, of course not. - My father shook his head negatively, continuing to keep a close eye on us to make sure we didn't get ripped off. As he used to say back home-though the Tempers kept thieves and bandits in a stone fist, the gods protect the safe. - Only in this city do you meet so many craftsmen. And not just artists and musicians. Turn your head to the right. We've just passed the Street of Creators, where the best of the best on two continents work.
"Indeed" - I thought, looking at the long white street, gradually twisting, because of which you could not see its end. Almost all the available space on it, except for the road, was occupied by pieces of white stone, containers of raw clay, freshly carved planks, and a host of other things I didn't know the names of, with people walking between them and doing something with them.
«But why are there so many of them? - I asked in surprise, looking around again and noticing one interesting thing-almost all the houses in the city were decorated with beautiful sculptures, stone carvings, and stucco in the form of vines, flowers, and trees that blended in with the plants planted everywhere.
«Felix Temper, the current head and founder of the family, patronizes any masters of the arts who come to his city. - Father answered, walking around a large group of people in purple robes. If my memory serves me correctly, back home they used to say that's how merchants from Braavos dressed. - Numerous fairs, festivals, and art contests are held here almost every month. If a craftsman has hands and the will to work, he will always have money for food and shelter here. And that's not just for people of the arts. Klisa, have you noticed the boys who often run down the street carrying packages?
«Yes. I'm sure I did when one of them almost ran into me.
«They're apprentices. - Said my father, turning into a wide street and heading toward a large building where shepherds and farmers like us flocked to harvest their crops. - This city, though not as large as Mir, Lys, or even Volantis, I'd heard from a local official that of the sixty thousand people living in the city, three-quarters were craftsmen and all those associated with them. Blacksmiths, jewelers, tanners, carpenters, weavers, tailors, potters, and many others from all over the world flock here, looking for a good place to live.
«But why?
«Oppression by old families, aristocrats, craft guilds or workshops. Many craftsmen, unwilling to bend over, work for a pittance or remain forever in the rank of apprentice, flee here in search of a better life. And the local lord welcomes them gladly. - Said the father and, looking at the exit, walked with a quick step towards a tall swarthy man, with a bald head glistening in the light of the lamps and thick black eyebrows.
«Vakhar! Old fox. I thought I'd never see you again. - He said, and, coming up to my father, embraced him with his muscular arms, as thick as my leg.
«It's good to see you, too, Dunto. - Dad whimpered helplessly. - Let go, you'll strangle him.
«Well, I love you. - The giant replied, setting him on the ground and looking at me. - And this is your daughter? An exact copy of Lykia. Just as beautiful.
«Thank you, Doon. - My father smiled, shaking himself off and heading toward our donkeys while I tried to hide my blush of embarrassment. Words like that hadn't been said to me in a long time. - Let's take care of business first, and then we'll talk.
«I recognize you, you peddler's face. Money first, then the rest. - Dad's acquaintance laughed, flashing a white-toothed smile.
Almost all of the farmers living in the Red Mountains don't sell their products themselves. Instead, they sell them directly to the Temperaments, who always give a good price and don't take taxes from such transactions. Still, as wealthy as Osgiliath was, everyone was well aware of its main problem: food. The valley provided almost no food, mostly growing fruit, honey, and five-leafed plants for sale. Because of this, food had to be either imported from other lands or bought from shepherds living nearby.
The haggling didn't last long - for twelve rounds of cheese, ten measures of wool, and twenty baskets of dried meat, my father was able to get nearly 89 silver reindeer and some copper change. A very good bargain.
«Not a bad bargain. - Father and Dundo smiled at each other with a satisfied smile, shaking hands as the deal was finalized while the local workers took the sold goods to the warehouse. - By the way, I have good news for you. My lord's youngest daughter needs a maid who can read and write. I thought you boasted that your Clissa was educated. Should I recommend her? I've known you a long time, and the children should have been smart enough to go to the--
Before I could even think about what I said and at least a little bit of shock, my father instantly squeezed the hands of the giant, before the giant could finish, almost shouting:
«Dundo, I beg you very much. Recommend.
So, from not quite an ordinary girl living on a farm with her family, I was instantly transformed into a candidate for the maid of the lord's daughter.
Life didn't prepare me for this.
***
P.O.V. Arianna Martell.
298 A.D.
Waters near Osgiliath, the Sea of Dornish.
The light galley, all sails hoisted, swept like an arrow across the sea waves, heading for the lands of Dorne's youngest and most mysterious city. Her sails were adorned with the emblem of a bright red sun pierced by a spear. Even the nobles, who had never left the confines of their cropland, knew who the owner of that emblem was.
The Martells.
Unyielding, unyielding, unyielding.
One of the eight great families of the Seven Kingdoms, on a par with the Baratheons, Lannisters, Tyrells, Arryns, Tullys, Starks, and Greyjoys.
And now the heiress of this glorious lineage, tracing its origins back to the ancient Andalian kings and the great Roynarian Princess Nymeria was very displeased.
«Jin!!! You little shit! Why the hell did I catch you in my maid of honor's bed again! - I shouted, not restraining my voice at all, twisting my 'charming' cousin's ear even more.
«Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi, sister Ari, stop it! I got it, I got it! What was I supposed to do when they were hanging all over me? Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi, ear! The ear! You're gonna rip it off! - In despair shouted this weasel, who, although he was my age, looked at most about eighteen years old.
«Eh... - I sighed tiredly, letting go of this smarmy bastard, realizing that most of what he said was true - unlike his older brother, who had gone somewhere with his cousin Sarella on a research trip, this little lecher had only ever slept with women, using his pretty face, which everyone fell for. Especially the older ladies. That's why Seven endowed him with those mesmerizing black eyes, perfect face, lively personality and that cheeky smile that even I sometimes fall for. - What am I supposed to do with you?
«Understand and forgive? - Making tearful eyes asked him.
«Understand and forgive. - I humbly agreed. - Just please behave normally at the Tempers' feast. I don't want to have to apologize for you later.
«No, no, no!" He waved his hands, surprising me a little. - Elayne or Alaric would have my bones in a knot over any of this! I don't want to! I won't!
"He used to visit the Tempers when he was a boy, while his uncle traveled all over the kingdoms for tournaments. So that's one more helper," I thought, laughing at my cousin's amused face. Next to me I heard the laughter of men and women of my "entourage" sitting under the awning at a small table and drinking cold wine.
Joining me on this trip were my longtime friend Sylva Santagar, heiress to the fully subordinate Santagar family, Ser Andrew Dalt, my longtime friend who was once in love with me, Garin of the Orphans of Greenblood, my milk brother, and the three oldest Sand Snakes, Obara, Nymeria, and Teena Sand, my friends and daughters of Uncle Oberyn.
"I wish he'd come with us," I sighed sadly as I saw a rock with the outline of a castle on the horizon, telling me that we didn't have long to sail. - "Afraid to move away from Aunt Elia. Who would have thought..."
Remembering the worried face of the famous Red Kite, who was running around his pregnant wife like a hen, I put the smile back on my face. Still uncle loved his other half, and the birth of their second daughter certainly could not miss. That's why my father had assigned me to his task. I had to respect the Tempers by attending their second daughter's eighteenth birthday party and at the same time find out what was going on in Osgiliath and how we were treated there.
"My father's interest in suppressing the Vorian Dane faction was a mistake," I thought as I went down to my quarters and thought about what to wear. The entire merchant world of the southern oikumene and the northern lords of Dorne, including the Fowlers and the Jordains, are going to be at this party, so I have to look irresistible. So after only a third of an hour, I stepped onto the upper deck, dressed in my usual airy attire, instantly catching the eye of every man on the ship. Still, presenting oneself properly is a Dornish woman's greatest skill.
While I was away, the ship had already approached Minas Ithil, a fortress built right on the bare rock blocking the entrance to the main bay of the Temper lands. One of the pillars that makes them so impregnable. After all, few can get to the city under fire from dozens of ballistae, trebuchets and scorpions peering out of the loopholes of the castle. A true indestructible castle, sealing the entrance to the Tempers' domain.
"What was Father thinking, giving them land like this?" - I thought annoyingly as our ship stopped at the small dock for the inspection that all ships go through. Even our own.
The Citadel's famous Guardians lived up to their reputation-as soon as we docked at the dock, ten of them, clad in shiny armor, with long protazans (you learn all those names when you live with Obara), small crossbows strapped to their belts, and a buckler hanging on their backs, stepped onto the ship at a steady pace.
The inspection was very quick and efficient - while the chief of them was checking the invitation letters and entertaining us with small talk, the other nine were inspecting the whole ship, even managing to find some small ragamuffin hiding in the nooks and crannies of the ship. And only when everything was over and we began to depart I was surprised to realize that despite Nymeria's presence and mine, this commander did not even look below our eyes. That's very strange...
"I've certainly heard that the local guards are kept in steel gauntlets, but not so much..." - I thought. Our galley, having lowered the sails and paddling, very quickly rounded the rock and came to the entrance to the lagoon.
«Are they kidding?! - Shouted Garin loudly.
«You have lost. That'll be fifty deer on you. - Said Tiena to Obara, who growled in response, snatching the purse from her belt and tossing it into her sister's hands.
«So they did build them..." Nymeria said thoughtfully, tapping her chin with a neat finger.
I understood my friends completely - if the impregnable fortress on the cliff had been known all over the world for ten years, then the huge stone "gate" consisting of two towers connected by a passage and adjoining fortifications, though not fully completed, was unknown to anyone.
"No, I've heard of the Tempers building something at the entrance to their bay, but to have something like this..." - I thought in amazement as we swam through the narrow channel and from below we could see dozens of loopholes through which no small sized spears were aimed at us. - "Braavos in miniature, damn them."
Soon the goal of our short journey appeared - Osgiliath, the White City, with the towering hulk of the Temper family castle above it. While I had seen many castles in my life, the city caught my eye at once.
White, like a blank sheet of paper, with tall two- and three-story buildings decorated with stucco, skillful statues, and ivy. The latter was especially abundant - this city seemed to be drenched in greenery, from the pots of flowers displayed by the windows facing the sea to the tops of the orange and lemon trees I'd often seen in the Water Gardens.
«No matter how many times I've been here, I never cease to be amazed by the beauty of this place. - Nymeria spoke with a nostalgic smile. With the same face, Tiena, Obara, and Jin stood nearby, while Orphan, Freckles, and Smile were not much different from me.
«Agreed. - Cousin agreed. - I don't want it to be like the last time you tried to get into bed with Lyon.
Judging by the smiles on her cousins' faces and Nymeria's wrinkled face, that story didn't end well for her.
A small delegation of twenty Temper Guards, ten servants, a very handsome green-eyed blond man in armor and white cloak, and a woman in her thirties with silver hair and purple eyes met us at the dock. The years had taken their toll on the one they called "White Lily", taking away the innocence and lightness that the bards sang of, and giving her instead the charm and allure of a seasoned woman. The Mistress of Osgiliath and one of Dorne's finest ladies greeted us personally.
«Greetings in the Valley of the Sunflame, Lady Arianna. - She was the first to speak, greeting us with a slight nod and a soft smile. - I hope your journey went well and you had no problems.
«Of course not, Lady Temper. - I replied with a nod of my head as well. - With your prayers our journey has been quiet and peaceful.
«I am glad to hear that. - She replied. - You have not seen each other before, so let me introduce my youngest son, Alaric Temper.
The blond man who stepped forward, his bright green eyes sparkling, did indeed look more like a Lannister than a Temper, though everyone knew he wasn't. But it was fraught to talk about it-the only more guaranteed way to ruin relations with the clan even further was to call their youngest daughter a bastard.
«Princess. - He said, kneeling down gallantly. His voice was soft and disposing. Such a man immediately wanted to trust and tell everything about himself. And if you remembered that he was the head of Westeros's finest guards, whom Garin said all the criminals of Dorne remembered only in swear words, it was a little creepy.
«My Lord. - Without giving away my thoughts I replied, reaching forward with a palm that was gallantly covered with an air kiss. - "And he lives up to his reputation. A true knight. Should I ask Nymeria to seduce him? Or has she already tried?"
«If I may, Lady Arianna, the castle has already prepared quarters for you and your entourage. - Said Eilis, as her son rose from his knees and returned to his seat. - Our servants will take your things, and you can follow us to the castle.
«Of course, Lady Temper. - I replied, nodding to the head of my guard and ordering him to follow, following them in the process. Still, the blacks, even well-trained ones, sometimes show their thieving nature.
Soon we were striding through the wide streets of Osgiliath, surrounded on all sides by guardsmen shrouded in deep dark armor. Ten years ago, when Lord Felix Temper had come for my father's fortieth birthday party, I had seen those two-meter-tall men sparring on the training ground. They moved as fast and smooth as if they weren't wearing ten kilos of steel. And their dogs... a glance at the shaggy monster, at the withers reaching up to my chest (a.k.a. it's not wargs so big, and Arianna is small - her height is 155 centimeters), involuntarily ran down my spine goosebumps.
The Tempers had brought these creatures fifteen years ago from beyond the Wall, in the far North, and had been breeding them for their army ever since. My father, of course, demanded a hundred for himself, but they soon died. As it later turned out, wargs need to be watched very carefully and fed on a certain diet, which we could get, but it would be foolish to ruin relations with one of the strongest and most loyal clans in Dorne because of mere dogs.
So I wasn't worried about my safety - except for the escort of elite warriors, there were twos and threes of guards walking everywhere.
The city itself looked amazing - wide streets that could accommodate fifteen riders in a row, paved with stone and rubble, fruit trees growing near the houses, open workshops, bakeries, shops and taverns with two floors, and gardens. Each house had its own little garden, consisting of a variety of plants, according to the taste of its owner. A very pretty place, with friendly townspeople smiling and bowing when they saw the Tempers. They looked at us too, but without much surprise - we weren't wearing our family crests. Besides, it was now midday and the sun was shining brightly in the sky, so most of the women were dressed quite openly as well. Though I can't imagine how heavy the steel-clad guardsmen are. They must be dousing themselves in sweat by now.
"No wonder they try to keep to the shade of the trees," I thought, noticing that we had already passed a long street and were at the castle gates.
«Here we are. - The matriarch of the Tempers addressed us. - You have arrived exactly on the day of the feast, so you will be escorted to your rooms and invited to the feast. Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to put the finishing touches on this.
«My lady, I must go too. I'll see you at the feast. - The blond nodded and left after his mother.
As an heiress, I have visited many castles in Southern Westeros, from the impregnable Storm's Edge, the luxurious Highgarden, the graceful Celestia, the windswept Sandstone, and the ancient Starfall. But even so, the Tempers' castle was very different from them, even at first glance-the wide marble corridors, with high ceilings, windows several times my height, and lots of paintings, decorative statues, and the same plants made it seem as if it were not the castle of a lord of the Seven Kingdoms, but the home of a magistrate of some Free City.
"No," I thought as I entered my quarters, which were not unlike the rest of the castle in style - lots of white stone, with elegant reliefs, inexpensive-looking furniture (if you didn't look closely, you might not notice that it was made of expensive milkwood), and stained-glass windows that gave a beautiful view of the garden. - "There's a lot more gilding and gaudy decorations that make your eyes ripple. I like this castle better for that."
«Sis! - I heard a shout from the doorway, just as I sat down on the couch and stretched out my legs. A small, black-haired whirlwind quickly burst into the room, immediately rushing into my arms.
«Tristan! - I stroked the wet, long hair of my younger brother, who had been sent to Felix Temper as a pupil three years ago. - Why are you so wet?
«I've just come from the baths. - The ten-year-old answered, pressing himself even harder against my belly. - We had a training session with Lord Felix the other day. When he heard that you had arrived, he sent me to wash so that I could see you sooner.
«I'll be sure to thank him when I see him at the party tonight. - I said, running my fingers through my damp curls. - How are you?
«Great! - My brother replied, his eyes rounding amusedly. - I like it here very much. Lord Felix tells me so many interesting things and teaches me how to wield a sword. Although I don't like to read books, he says that a man should not only train his body, but also his mind.
«That's right. - I smiled as I listened to Tristan's rambling story. I missed that black lump of joy and laughter, without whom the Water Gardens were twice as quiet.
We finished in the evening, sitting in the common room of the guest quarters, drinking tart Dornish wine and telling interesting stories, mostly about the owners of this place. The more I learn about them, the better.
«My lady, my lords. - A pretty maid (and they didn't keep any others here) dressed in a simple green sundress and leather corset addressed us. - The feast will begin in an hour and a half. I apologize if I disturbed you.
«Good. - I got up and went to my assigned room. I had to take a bath, do my hair, put on makeup, put on perfume, and pick out an outfit. I would be representing House Martell at the feast, after all, and I couldn't afford to be a slip of the tongue.
The great Tempers' palace was impressive. The same white marble with gilding, high ceilings, windows three times my height, expensive furniture made of rare woods, and beautiful lighting, achieved by a system of mirrors that made it seem like a sunny day instead of a dark night.
A discreet and modest luxury.
I don't know how it came to be, but if you remember that the castle, as well as most of the city, was designed by Felix Temper himself, then anything is possible. He has long been renowned as a skillful architect, diplomat, merchant, patron of the arts, ruler, and the like.
"No wonder the others can't stand him," I thought, sitting down at the indicated seat at the table, which happened to be very close to the master's. - "The lords hate him because of his wealth and origin, and the common people hate him because of his quick rise and out of simple envy."
Of course, in some ways I agreed with them, and I thought the Tempers had gotten too high, gaining power and authority they were not entitled to. But my father and I had always been humbled by the ship that came to Sunspear in the middle of the year carrying the taxes of the family. The chests filled to the brim with silver stags, golden dragons, pearls, and gems were captivating in their own right and helped the Martell family to fulfill their plans for revenge against the Lannisters. To ruin the people who created gold out of thin air was a very foolish idea.
Taking a sip of the white wine, bubbly, produced in the local distilleries and called sparkling wine, I began to scrutinize all the arriving guests and the more I saw, the higher my eyebrows went up.
"The Fowlers, the Wylies, the Dondarrions, the Manwoodys, the Blackmonts, the Carons, the Jordains..." - All the major houses of eastern Dorne and the Dornish marks were gathered here, at a simple birthday party for their second daughter. That was yet to mention a number of big hand merchants, representatives of the trade guilds of Staromest and Sunspear, ambassadors of the Free Cities, and even a representative of the Iron Bank. - ''Yes... Seeing those gathered truly makes one realize who the second most powerful in our region are
«There they are. - I heard Jin's voice and turned around to see the main faces of tonight's event entering through the main entrance.
"Seven people were lazy when they created this family," I thought, remembering that my father, when I asked him to find me a consort prince, had given me a choice of grooms, half of whom had long since lost their manhood and the other half had it buried under a layer of fat. B-r-r-r-r...
«Lords and their ladies. Friends and comrades. Princess Arianna. - Rising on a small pedestal Felix began the usual greeting, at the end of which he greeted me separately, which was pleasant enough. - Thank you for attending this modest celebration in honor of my beloved second daughter's eighteenth birthday. May the Old and New, good and cruel, true and false gods be favorable to her.
"Well, compared to the rumored feasts at Red Castle, it is indeed modest" - I thought as I looked at the brunette who stepped forward and gave her little speech to the guests. Thick black hair, snow-white skin, sharp chin, sensual red lips, and snake-yellow eyes. Fiora Temper, dressed in the traditional Dorne black bodice, airy trousers and numerous jewelry, was not inferior in beauty to her stepmother and sister in the slightest, nor was the heir absent from the feast.
"Pretty damn good," I thought with a grin. - "There's Nymeria looking at her lustfully. Though she reminds me of someone... I just can't figure out who..."
«Let the festivities begin! - I was taken out of my thoughts by the voice of the castle owner, after the words of which soft and unobtrusive music poured out of the inconspicuous niches in the ceiling, and identically dressed servants began to quickly make the tables with dishes and distribute snacks and glasses of wine throughout the castle.
«Princess Arianna. - Discreetly, almost making me wince, Felix Temper approached me, leaving his family to entertain the guests. - It's good to see you. You've grown even more handsome in the past three years. No one will be able to challenge you for the title of most beautiful girl in the Seven Kingdoms.
«You flatter me, Lord Felix. - I stood up and bowed to the master of the house, as tradition dictated. - Lady Elaina is still far from me. And your daughters have taken after their parents.
«Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha... That's right. - This giant, who towers over me by almost half a meter, laughed with sincere laughter. - How is your esteemed father? I hope the medication is working?
«Unfortunately, no. They only keep him out of pain and keep his body in shape. - Like my father said, one thing Felix Temper had going for him was sincerity. If he was interested in someone else's health, he was genuinely interested. If he said he would help in any way he could, he really did. He very rarely lied or pretended, preferring to show his real emotions. And as a man of wide and kind soul he had them very light. And that had a certain appeal.
Very much so.
«That's not good. - He said, stroking the ring on his left hand with his thumb. - I'll send Quibernus again. He recently found a rare Valyrian work on medicine in the Seloris library. I hope he can help.
"Don't let your guard down, though," I thought, remembering my father's admonition and making the usual small talk. - "Anyone who climbed this high has blood on his hands, and he can't be a fool."
The feast passed habitually, like many hundreds of others before it. Talked and flirted with some of the lords and ambassadors of the Free Cities. Danced a few dances with the castle master and his son. Enjoyed some pleasant music. Tasted delicacies from all over the world. All in all, I had a pleasant time.
Though most of all I remembered the conversation with Alaric, where the green-eyed blond man asked me carefully and unobtrusively "Princess, why aren't you married yet?". In response, I only told the already well-known story about the proposed suitors in Sunspear, and asked why none of the four Tempers' children, the youngest of whom was seventeen (!!!), were engaged or married. The boy didn't hide anything either and told me the main reason at once.
Position.
The position of a young family with only two generations of nobles behind them is too uncertain. On the one hand, everyone realizes that the Tempers are as strong as the Fowlers, Jordains, Daines, Estemonts, or Freys. But no one wants to officially recognize the family of upstarts. The lords of these houses are too proud to admit that someone in twenty years has gained the same power that their houses have gained over centuries, if not millennia. Except for the Freys. "The Ancient Ferret," as Alaric had called Walder Frey, had long ago flooded his father's desk with engagement proposal letters and still hadn't stopped trying. So all they could do was wait. But he didn't say what to wait for.
Another oddity I found was the birthday girl herself. No, Fiora Temper behaved like a lady-with small talk, dancing, turning down intrusive suitors-but she spent most of her time by the small fireplace, just sitting and looking at the fire. It was strange enough.
As I left Osgiliath the next day, I realized that I had managed to complete my father's task. The Tempers were still loyal to the Martells - that much was clear from the warm welcome I received. If our relations had cooled even a little, it would have been noticeable. But the clan of Dorne's finest merchants were preparing for something. It was clear from the large number of important guests at the rather insignificant feast and the number of warships seen in Gray Harbor.
"I just have to figure out what it is," I thought as I made myself comfortable on my cabin bed and drifted into a deep sleep. A new day would bring new answers and thoughts, and I needed to be focused when I returned to Sunspear.
***
Two days later, the ravens from Red Castle flew into all the castles of the Seven Kingdoms. They carried the news that most would be saddened to hear: Jon Arryn, the Old Falcon, Lord of the Eagle's Nest, Guardian of the East, Hand of King Robert Baratheon... The Pillar of Tranquility, as future generations would call him, had died in his bed in a fever, never revealing the secret to his apprentice.
In the future, the twenty-second day of the third month of the two hundred and ninety-eighth year would be considered the beginning of a new era. An era of terror, death and betrayal. An era of discovery, upheaval and rebirth. An era of insight, development and magic. Planethos was entering a new milestone in its history.
But for most people alive today, it didn't matter. Merchants still traded, artisans still created, and peasants still plowed. Only for the lords and rulers was this day different from the rest.
A new round of everyone's favorite pastime had begun, when the weak could rise to the top and the strong could become even stronger. The true Game of Thrones had begun.
***
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